….my Albino children 
Today I would like to tell you about the children with albinism in Uganda, because their lives are much harder than most people imagine, and they rarely get the attention they deserve.
Albinism is a genetic condition in which the body produces little or no melanin, the pigment that colours the skin, hair and eyes and protects them from the sun. In a country where the sun is strong all year round, this means that these children are vulnerable from the very first day of their lives.
Their skin burns easily, and without protection it can develop sores, lesions and, over time, skin cancer, which sadly takes the lives of many people with albinism in East Africa while they are still young. Most of them also have poor eyesight and are very sensitive to light, so reading the blackboard at school or simply walking outside in the middle of the day can be a real struggle.
The medical needs are only half of the story. Children with albinism are often treated as different, strange or even cursed. At school they are mocked and given cruel nicknames, other children refuse to sit next to them, and sometimes their own communities keep them at a distance. Some mothers are blamed or abandoned by their husbands simply because they gave birth to a child with albinism. In parts of the region there are still dangerous superstitions about people with albinism, which means that some of these families live with real fear for their children’s safety. A child who has done nothing at all except be born looks a little different grows up feeling that the world does not want them.
What these children need is not complicated. They need sunscreen, hats, long sleeves and sunglasses, regular skin checks, help with their eyesight, a place at school where they are protected and respected, and adults who love them and stand up for them.
That is why I want to thank, with all my heart, the people who take care of children with albinism: the parents and grandparents who keep them close despite what the neighbours say, the teachers who move them to the front of the class so they can see, the nurses and doctors who check their skin and treat it in time, and every person who has ever sent a bottle of sunscreen or a hat across the world. You may never know how much you protect them, but they feel it.
When I look at these children, I remember something very simple that I believe with my whole being. Every living being, without a single exception, wishes to be happy and does not wish to suffer. A child with albinism wants exactly what every other child wants: to play, to learn, to be loved and to feel safe. The colour of their skin changes nothing about that wish, and it should change nothing about our wish to protect them.
This little one is called Isa Chencal. Danjela, I hold you in the highest reward!
