Children's home

The children nearby came to our secret garden
Gazed at our mansion in disbelief
Either said they wished they lived there
Or that this was the den of the thief
But it was our Narnia of food fights at midnight
Wet flannel battles in the halls
Fire extinguishers that lose their heads
We had nothing to lose – nothing at all

But the rattle of rules and keys,
Broke the magic – we all knew it couldn’t last
The alarm bells rang and rang and rang
In Emergency Break The Glass
And it’s no fun any more in here
The keys in cupboards, slamming security doors
Each child slowly retracts inside their self
Whispering ‘What am I being punished for?’

We’d been given booby-trapped time-bombs
Trigger wires hidden, strapped on the inside
It became a place of controlled explosions
Self-mutilation, screams and suicide
Of young people returned, return to sender
Midlit dorms of midnight’s moans
We might well have all been children
But this was never a children’s home.

by Lemn Sissay

It's been closed for years and I know nothing about its history or reputation. Children who can't remain with their families, for whatever reason, are now looked after in different ways that don't involve large institutions.

The poet Lemn Sissay was fostered with a family as a small child and lost touch with his mother and his roots. When he was 12 he was ejected by his foster family and spent the next five years in children's homes. When he was 17 he started writing poetry and searching for his mother. Aged 21 he found her, and discovered his Ethiopian ancestry. He also published his first book of poetry.

Since that time Lemn has been tireless crusader for children in care, a writer, broadcaster, chancellor of the university of Manchester (2017) and OBE (2019) for services to literature and charity. [It would  have nice if he'd turned that down.]

Lemn is also active in the campaign to repatriate* valuable and culturally significent treasures looted by the British, and others, from Ethiopia in the 19th century.
See his blog and The Scheherazade Foundation. 

(This is a cause close to my heart because in 2006 I myself sent home  to Ethiopia an old  family possession. I blipped the story  here but be warned, it's very long.)


* Return to the fatherland.  Should it be 'rematriate'?  Is there a non-gendered alternative? Yes - return home!