Ms. Deng Xiao Ping plants trees, schoolchildren also plant trees, the nobel prize winner started a project to plant a hundred thousand plants here, and since then trees are planted on every official occasion. People love trees. I’m not so sure it that’s the case in Nairobi, after all they hardly ever see them. The school plants a tree. Not that I’d so much like to take a photograph here. But I still just dare to photograph a tree, though to the kids scurrying around and acting bored it seems silly to waste an image for a tree, if there isn’t a person in it. They’d gladly be in it, they say, if I’m taking a photo, they’d stand in so that the photo would make sense. Then they even grab hold of the tree, and it doesn’t look like they had planted it, more like they’re touching a tree for the first time. The trees are small, and they grab hold of them like your grab hold of a goat. Maybe. I never held a goat, but they hold onto the trees as if they could run away. It’s too bright. I can’t see the images on the display. Together, we form a sort of tent, and they see themselves as small shadows next to the shadow of the tree.