I was heartened this week when a friend who works in a project to support AIDs patients in Addis, told me about a recent initiative. It was called ‘peri-urban gardening’. The head of each household was taught how to transform a small patch of ground by clearing away many stones and breaking up the thick, sticky soil. They were shown how to remove the soil to a considerable depth then add manure, charcoal and egg shells for nutrients. Further instruction was given about composting and making a simple fertiliser. During the final meeting a hoe was brought in. They were all so pleased and began talking about how expensive hoes were and whether they could set up a rota to share it. Those running the project then told them that they would be given one each. That was beyond their wildest expectation and they were delighted.

Back in the UK I was comfortable with the fact that there were degrees of wealth. Our property in Sandridge was fairly modest when compared with friend’s houses in St Albans and Harpenden. However when I thought about the ‘poor’ I somehow thought of them as a single category. But what is poverty?

Seble (our house worker) kindly entertained us for a meal for Easter, we also shared a meal with Lemma (our guard) and his family. Both of these lovely friends live in houses with firm mud walls and some decoration, although neither has running water or a flushing toilet inside their homes.

Meet one of our Yetesfye Birhan girls. The only substantial part of her dwelling is the door which is secured with a padlock. The remaining construction is corrugated aluminium and plastic sheeting. They family sleep on cardboard.

But I wonder how this family compares to the plethora of people around that have no dwelling at all? For them security is a problem. I have seen some scaling a wall to leave a bundle of belongings on top of a tin roof out of sight and reach. Phil has seen a similar bundle being hoisted into a tree. Some prefer to sleep on the central reservation to improve their chances of safety while they rest.

I’m no closer to defining poverty, but I'm learning it isn't a single thing - it's multi-layered. Living here makes me feel both humbled and so thankful for the security our family have been privileged to know and grow up in.