The Child from Mali

In President Mattarella’s office, there hangs a drawing, a simple vignette.

It shows a boy sitting at the bottom of the sea, reading a book.

It was inspired by a true story. The story of a small body found on a Mediterranean shore.

That body was brought to Milan, to a special laboratory that tries to give a name to these poor, nameless remains. It arrived in a small bag. From its weight, they understood it was a child.

He was a 14-year-old boy from Mali, who died in the Mediterranean Sea.

Inside his jacket, sewn perhaps by his mother, they found his school report card, with beautiful grades.

Mali is far, very far away.

To reach Libya, where the boat had departed, the boy had travelled 4,000 kilometers; almost like walking from Naples to the North Pole.

He faced a terrible journey, risking his life. A life he eventually lost.

This boy wanted just one thing: to go to school.

He wanted a chance.

What we, in this small and lucky part of the world, so often take for granted.

Today, in the world, only one child out of five can go to school. Four out of five cannot.

Four children out of five wake up every morning and must fight just to reach the evening. Against hunger, drought, wars, coups, the chaos in their countries, climate change, and a life filled with suffering.

To study is to have a chance. Don’t forget it. Sometimes it will be hard. Sometimes you’ll want to give up. And yet, many nights you’ll stay awake. Simply because you want to learn.

Know that you’ll be doing it also for that child.

For that child from Mali.