Brothers

Some of us are lucky enough to have one. This is Echumu, Andrew and Awatchi. Brothers. Seeing them in town, you'd have no idea they are related. It's only when you lower your head to stand with them, awkwardly inside the tiny shack where their mother drunkenly rages, that you see the common origin, the forces that make grave their youthful eyes and drive a fault line of necessity through their family.
Here they lie on the pile of wood that- with the help of neighbors, two lead carpenters, a gaggle of imperfectionists sharing one hammer, the moral support of their lazy but always affable father, time and a bit of determination- we hope, will become their home. We built the place. Painted it. Even put beds inside. But they've never known what a home looks like, or how it works. We'll find out what happens when we come back next year. A year off of the street. A year away from their mother. A year to explore their bond under one roof.