Manyano School was a scary place, no kidding. The fence had holes big enough for a grown man to run through. And grown men did. The walls of the buildings were thirsty for paint. The buildings themselves looked scared. The schoolyard was full of weeds and rubbish: broken bottles, out-of-shape cans, skins from long-ago-eaten bananas, mango pips and things you could no longer tell what they had been before they all came and got vrot there. We never played in our schoolyard. Too scared of what might happen. And a lot happened in that yard ... and most of it wasn’t nice stuff. Until ...
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