We look after the two ends of life.

For most of our children the government school is the only institution that will ever be built for them. When there is no library, when forty children share eleven desks, when a computer sits locked in a room because nobody was trained to use it — a generation is lost quietly, and nothing about it looks like a crisis.

So we work on the ordinary things a classroom actually needs: a shelf of books, a bench that does not tip, a working computer, a cricket set, a health check before the exams. And for our elders — the parent who has outlived their income, the grandmother alone in a rented room — we visit, we take food and medicine, we fill the pension form, and we come back next month.