He had shone his shoes to a sheen with the residue of polish, excited to be returning to school.
Some of his friends bragged about their holidays.
He quietly still savoured the taste of vegetable soup. It had been a while since he had eaten a decent meal.
He loved school, but it was not only because of what he learnt.
He dreamt about food.
He was the last to climb into the bus.
He was the first to be hauled out amidst those haunting screams.
The bus– barely recognisable on its side, smouldering after the fire.
Twenty lives taken!