From Dangerous Experiences to Good Life

by Jok Mabior

I was born in 1980, the decade in which civil war broke out in Sudan; I faced the challenges of “the tragic life” of the war-torn country. The period of eighteen years civil war is historical to me in particular because it has depicted some dangerous experiences in my life, which are unforgettable. This long endless war erupted in 1983 like volcanic mountain and spread quickly through out the entire land like wild fire in the desert. Its effects are both shocking and devastating.

Autobiographically, I’m the son of ‘the unshakable pillar of the society, a determined man who stood at nothing, but his own ground to achieve his objectives.’ I was born into a family of thirteen where I was the seventh born among the twelfth. Being the middle born, according to the Dinka tribe culture, meant that I have no right to inherit any family property. Despite this custom, my father loved me so much that he promised me to succeed him as the next chief. For six good years, I enjoyed parental love in Anyidi Village where I grew up.

Life is not smooth as I though of it when I was with parents. Someone describes it this way, “life is a few drops of happiness, but a whole bottle of misery.” I experienced this and it is true. My expectation was upside down when things reached their ‘boiling’ point in my country in 1987. The enemies destroyed my village. It was almost at dawn that Arab soldiers invaded my village. ‘The red people in green uniforms and with heavy weapons dragged me away from my family, killing some members on the spot.’ They bombed us and burnt all the buildings in the village. Death missed me by an inch when the enemies held me upside down, “This is the last day of black people in Sudan,” they shouted. I could only hear the ‘peep peep sss’ sound of the bullets narrowly touching me in all directions. They mercilessly killed even the infants and aging. Consequently, the situation became intolerable for the survivors.

It was unexpressable to me how I got out of that ‘extreme point beyond death.’ How would I found myself on the ay to Ethiopia dumbfounded me up to now, but one thing I should know is this: safety is the presence of God, not the absence of danger. The Great Trek to Ethiopia was the beginning of separation with my parents which is one of the worst things a child can ever face in life!! What kind of life can anyone imagine beyond this point?

Frustration and depression began taking front seats in my life. Things became darker and darker when I, together with other “minors,” as we’re referred to, trekked to unfamiliar land for safety. The long walk over 3,000 miles took us four to five months. I was only six by that time. The trip was not only strange and tiresome, but it was also dangerous. On the way, wild animals such as lions, tiger, hyena, and others, stalked us. Thirst and hunger were immeasurable. Furthermore, we ate nothing, but leaves of any green tree if found. Passing through that desert was like crossing the Red Sea.

Experience is a great teacher. Not only does it reveal character, but it also portrays some feelings. In the ‘Night of Silent Walk,’ the day was gloomy and nervous, It was as if the sky would fall over us; the heavy dark cloud gave birth to showers and the whole sky became darker and darker. All of a sudden, the ‘peep peep’ sound of the bullets were heard and everyone remained speechless in the fear of being kidnapped and killed. We tiptoed over the thorn trees unconsciously, I thought that would be my last day on Earth. However, since life is a ‘God hidden treasure,’ I’m still speaking now.

Misfortunes usually come in chains. Although we reached Ethiopia by the end of 1987, the land was not secure as expected. The outbreak of fatal diseases such as cholera, typhoid, tetanus, and tuberculosis worsened the situation. In addition, the hostility of the local people, especially the Anyuak tribe, made the situation unbearable. It was as if we were in a salty lake, now way out. However, out of this hardship comes the foundation of my future life, which is education. This foundation will not fade from me because it is rooted in ‘strong will’ that purified by the fire of hardship and disaster. Education will always take the third priority after God and my neighbor respectively.

From the frying pan to the fire, said the old proverb. The trek did not end in Ethiopia, instead, things got worse and worse, but the going continued. The 1991 Civil War in Ethiopia compelled us to cross back over the border over the Gilo River. “The big crocodile infested river opened its wide mouth and swallowed the strangers.” Simultaneously, the Oromans opened gunfire at us while drowning. The majority of the “Lost Boys” perished in the River Gilo and the going continued with some ‘left over’ which included me. Those remnants reached Kenya in 1992.

Insecurity became the business of the day when we were in Kakuma Refugee Camp in Kenya. Criminals were found everywhere whether the country is stable or unstable. In fact, there were professional criminals. I cannot tell exactly whether those who attacked us at Kakuma were professional or unskilled.

It was at the dust that they attacked us at the Episcopal Church compound, killing one pastor on the spot while we were singing. They shot one evangelist who sat closer to me at the desk and paralyzed him with the kidney bullet. In the meantime, they rushed inside the fence with big torches and guns at their hands. One bullet missed me at the left ear by an inch. Consequently, I became unconscious lying down as if I was dead. They kicked me while shouting in Kiswahili, “Toka nje, utakufa sasa,” which mean, “go out or you will die now!!” It was not known whether I was alive until the next morning when I was found beside the fence.

The most recent tragedy was the one on February 10, 2001 at 8:00p.m. Two gangsters appeared before us while eating dinner with some of my relatives. Within the twitching of an eye, I found the gun at my right shoulder. With great amazement, we remained speechless. At the point of a gun, the two gangsters took the radio cassette, which was in my hand and spared my life. Thank God! What the horrible day was!!!!

However, out of hopeless condition, came a good life!! It was 2001, that the U.S. Government with its agencies offered the chance to “The Lost Boys” of Sudan to come to the United States. Consequently, I found myself relocated to Tucson, AZ with other 52 “Lost Boys.” The first shocking experience in my new world was the differences in the way men and women behave, and the equality that exists between them. First, the girl’s clothing shocked me when I landed at Tucson International Airport. I saw girls wearing very shorts skirts looked like underwear, and small shirts that covered breast and allowed parts of the body uncovered. Beside, they would kiss one another, which almost shocked me to death. I couldn’t understand the ways boys and girls relate and choose marital partners. They seem to spend most of their time together. I could not imagine how I would acquaintance with my adapted country; food was very strange to me and people too, all white. Nevertheless, in Tucson, AZ, I feel secure, no night dreams from enemy any more. 90 percent of Americans are very friendly to foreigners. In Tucson, there is plenty of food to eat. Best of the all, I have got the most precious one, Education! Now I have a hope for the future since education is the key to making life better around the world.