Bibi (which means ‘grandmother’ in Swahili) begins the conversation with the ‘emotional thermometer’ – a therapeutic approach used by our project workers to encourage families to express their feelings using a traffic light system. It’s a simple way to break the ice and gauge the emotional state of the caregivers and children we work with.

We’re sat beneath a tree in Bibi’s vegetable garden, taking refuge from the midday sun. A few metres away is a constant stream of cars, motorcycles and bajajis speeding to and from the ferry port. The surrounding patchwork of greens offers a soothing respite from the bustle of the city.

Jenny, a project worker who has been supporting the family for 10 months, tells Bibi there are two reasons for the visit – firstly, to find out how her grandchildren are doing, and secondly, to see how her vegetable growing business is progressing.

“I’m very happy you’re here and you have come to see my work,” Bibi says, gesturing towards the garden behind her. “This is my employment and I’m very grateful.” She goes on to say that although she has worked in gardens before, this is the first time she’s had her own plot to grow vegetables.

To help Bibi provide a stable home for her grandchildren, Railway Children supported the family with an agricultural grant and business training so she could start growing and selling vegetables.

Almost a year later, their life has transformed, and the garden is thriving. “Over there are sweet potatoes, and over here is spinach and lentils – this year’s harvest was good,” Bibi says proudly, pointing towards different beds of sprouting leaves.

“My dream is to get an even bigger plot of land that I own, so I can provide more for my grandchildren.”

As Bibi is speaking, Adin emerges with a big smile on his face. He joins us under the shade of the tree, and with encouragement from Jenny, introduces himself using the emotional thermometer: “My name is Adin. I’m green and I’m feeling good.”

Life seems hopeful for Bibi and Adin, but it wasn’t always this way.

Before receiving the agricultural grant, Bibi was barely earning enough to support herself, let alone three grandchildren. She was doing manual labour for very little money and couldn’t afford everyday essentials like flour to make ugali (an everyday Tanzanian meal, a bit like porridge) or provide school materials for the children. She would often have to leave her accommodation because she couldn’t afford to pay the rent. On one occasion, heavy rain caused the mud hut she was living in to collapse, and she injured her back.

“My back still hurts from the accident when I work too long in the garden,” Bibi says, “but I’m happy now that I can afford my rent and have my own vegetables, so I don’t have to rely on others. I can buy more flour to make ugali and sometimes, I trade vegetables for fish at the market, so my grandchildren have more variety in their diet.”