Our Trek for the Children of Morocco will take place in the awe-inspiring landscape of the Sahara Desert. […] This is a great opportunity to set yourself a physical challenge; to fundraise for UNICEF and learn more about our work in the field; and to visit an amazing part of the world! UNICEF is working in a number of areas in Morocco to protect child rights. One such right is the right to experience a childhood, one where they are cared for and safe. However, for many children in Morocco this is not a reality because they are either forced into child labour, are sexually exploited or suffer violence in schools [1].Indeed, a 2004 report by the BBC’s Pascale Harter noted that Moroccan mothers were forced to send their five-year-olds to work with tailors and carpet weavers - where they would be fed. Children as young as seven were hitching illegal rides to Europe with the consent of their parents, who were ‘simply to [sic] poor to provide for them.’ The situation for single mothers is made worse because sex outside marriage is not recognized in Morocco, whatever the circumstances – poor sex education, rape, footloose fathers-to-be…none holds much mitigating sway. In 2009 the New York Times quoted Claire Trichot of 100%Mamans, a charitable organization that helps Morocco’s single mothers:
“It’s illegal to have sex outside marriage, so single mothers have no rights,” she said. The mosques ignore them; families sometimes throw them out; the police usually think even rape victims are lying; the hospitals often treat them badly.All of this is serious, as are all the attempts to do something about it, but more important than any of them for the moment is Michelle Boshoff, a fantastic human being of untiring compassion, who’s become so accustomed to getting involved that she’s not particularly aware of the value of her actions most of the time. She represented UNICEF rather well with a gig in Brighton two weeks ago, raising money (just over £400) towards her joining UNICEF’s Trek for the Children of Morocco this November.
I found them on the train, on their way into Brighton: Michelle, and her friends Aimi and Nathalie. With them were two silver packages like the covered takeaway trays you get, only with UNICEF logos on them, and also a large bag or two. Michelle was in a good mood I thought, still talking about all sorts of things happily – not over focused on getting the evening right.
The evening was being held in the Hope, and once there Michelle instantly switched on. I walked into the venue room. It had no lights, a DJ setting up, and a couple of band members putting carry cases down in the middle of the floor. Michelle’s voice was heard: ‘but I wanted to be here before the bands,’ mumbled reassurances, requests to put the start back. Doors at 6.30? (this was 5.28) - no way. Never mind, Michelle recoils and rebounds off it. She gives two polite then two drill sergeant requests for someone to turn on the lights. Bags are opened ‘cupcakes for the bands’ (she made cupcakes, for the bands), posters thrown over the stage and White Tack handed to Aimi and me: ‘don’t mark their walls.’ Up went the UNICEF flags to make it legal and legit - as well as all the literature about Michelle, Morocco and posters of various Third World countries (Morocco just about among them) that UNICEF had supplied.
The thing had started. Momentum, pressure, whatever, were all running at a constant now. It started to show on Michelle, who was clearly weighing up what was going right and what was lagging behind. She’d been planning and organising everything with her friend Toy since April. The two of them finding out everything for themselves, having to work with competing businesses, industries and venues - who know their trades and all the usual letdowns for answering atypical requests - and they’d got them to co-operate.
Michelle makes a lot of mistakes, but then Michelle constantly charges through everything she needs and wants to get done. For every mistake she’ll make in front of you there are about 30 successes happening simultaneously. As we were waiting for the balloons to arrive she was starting to get upset at some of the elements around her. The bands were taking longer than she expected. Max’s drum kit needed to be set up. Max wasn’t there. The bands were waiting to sound check. Michelle had also just heard one of the staff at the Hope complaining to the manager about her. ‘Yes, but she’s going to hell because she doesn’t care about the children,’ Aimi rightly pointed out. The line went right over Michelle; you could tell there was going to be no solace until the bands started playing.
But Michelle’s dad and brother arrived with the balloons, and when Toy came she was pleased with how it all looked. The bands set up the kit themselves, with Chris Terry from Dead Empire telling Michelle that everything was running normally. She had done everything that she could, and it was up to the bands now. We sat down and had a drink - Michelle did too eventually. I got a small UNICEF t-shirt to wear while on the door, and we waited for everything to start. Our very good friend Shane had arrived by now, as had the photographer, Ajit.
On the door Shane, Aimi and I marked band members’ hands - or whatever they proffered (upper body only) - for future reference. We let in a few people who didn’t mind hanging about while everyone was sound checking. The nice, normal people - people with un-band-branded clothes and girlfriends or boyfriends - were politely asked to stay downstairs and enjoy the bar. Michelle and Toy had done it; we had people milling about downstairs, we had a couple sat on the floor in front of us reading the UNICEF posters, beer in hand, and, as Dead Empire fired up, there were people everywhere and the cash box was getting filled.
When an older gentleman arrived and paid his money to get in everybody got quite excitable, but he had an ulterior motive. A little later Michelle came out of the gig venue: ‘the old guy’s going to play.’ As soon as I saw him - a grey haired man in a suit, playing the harmonica to a room full of people expecting The Fallthrough’s Hardcore, sing-along Punk - I had a funny (haha) collection of thoughts. I’d actually managed to meet him before, and seen him play…I think (there are a few quirky old musicians out there on the open mic trail).
Ajit was snapping, or digitally beeping, away during all of this of course. He is good at what he does, but in between taking shots he’s a hell of a strange beast at a gig. It was during the Fallthrough set that he started jumping on people’s backs during a wall of death, all devil horns and thrashing about. He’ll hurt someone one day, and I only hope he films it well. But then everyone had loosened up by now, most deservedly Michelle. Tequila was needed and had, pretty people were chatted with, and of course her family - and extended family - were now present to offer her support and behave badly.
There’s something incredible about the things your friends get you into. No - there’s something incredible about being on the verge of pissed in a tiny UNICEF t-shirt, hearing a band belting out its numbers in the next room, while the thing that everything is in aid of sits on posters all around you. The brilliance of taking live music and its ability to amp up people’s sociability, affecting nothing of the audience’s experience of that, and making it all generate aid for people who live in a world that operates on very different priorities. You keep each realm, the event and the charitable fundraising, distinct, and it benefits both.
The Last Carnival offered a kind of bridge between the two by playing a nursery rhyme for the children of Morocco as well as their own songs. They also did a Little Richard cover that the parents, but by no means just the parents, enjoyed. The evening just steered itself now, with people coming in and out. For Michelle, the highlight was seeing everybody dance to No Town Like Motown. And who wouldn’t dance to them? Well, me and Aimi heading for the last train for two, but we caught their first song. Once No Town’s set was over the DJs played on - while everybody cleaned up the venue, and Michelle’s little brother stuck around to make sure she got home in one piece.
So where are we now? Nearly up to £600 raised, and four months left to go. There will be more events to help reach Michelle’s needed target, and all donations are welcome. Before I repeat hers…thank you, Michelle. You’ve done it yet again. I don’t know what you deserve, but you earned it years ago. The world gets you now.
Michelle would like to thank Toy for helping her put the night together; the bands: Dead Empire, The Fallthrough, The Last Carnival and No Town Like Motown; and the DJs: Alex and Jim. All photos: Ajit Dutta
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[1] ‘Trek for the Children of Morocco: The Sahara Challenge,’ UNICEF, <http://www.unicef.org.uk/regions/products/index.asp?product=96>
Ajit Dutta Photography: http://www.logdes.com/lnet/
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