«They have gone,» says John my taxi driver as we reach one of the main intersections in the Nigerian capital. Looking around I have no idea whom he is talking about. «The children who ask for money. They come from across the border in Niger. Yesterday they were here, today gone.»
Abuja is normally heaving with beggar children, with smooth brown skin and huge doe eyes, walking through the traffic, arms outstretched pleading for money while rubbing their stomachs.
The men who try to sell mobile phone cards, fake watches and, bizarrely, small, plastic toy cameras are still here though. But whenever they break cover they are almost immediately warned off by police. There’s no doubt this city is trying to put on its best face while the world watches.
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