The Lions Den

ONCE UPON A TIME IN SOMALIA

 

 

It all began in the early hours of Tuesday morning, as the news of the enemies’ encroachment filled the atmosphere like dew, pouring down from the sky, in a chaotic and nearly non-governmental nation in the horn of Africa, known to be the home of the world’s best contemporary pirates, a nation where civil war, drought, anarchy and chaos where the order of the day. The rebel group which controlled much of the south was few villages away from our location as the news of their advancement caused panic and great fear among the people of Marca, Port city, southern Somalia.

Leaving the city for safety and forfeiting the purpose of coming to Africa was difficult but the only option we had to stay alive. So we had to bury him in the most obnoxious of ways, which was unethical and a taboo against the tradition of the people. A sensible man would want to abnegate such act as unprofessional but believe me when I say that it was the only option we had to avoid becoming victims ourselves.

After burying him in the most disrespectful way which I find difficult to explain because it was really dehumanizing to begin with, we took to the road as quickly as possible in an attempt to elude the enemy from catching up with us. It was very difficult leaving the city because of the crowd which attempted travelling along side with us and also those on the way, taking to their heels by foot, causing heavy traffic. Men, women and children trying to find their way far from the enemies reach to the north which was a bit safer.

You could see the tears; you could feel the tension and perceive the fear from the heart of the people as they stumble upon each other in an attempt to escape the enemies’ wrath. As I watch from our moving convoy, mothers running helter-skelter with wrappers falling from their waste, children crying helpless on the floor and groggy granny’s log-jamming their way through the heavy crowd, I couldn’t hold back the tears of sorrow flowing from my eyes like rain drops from the deep blue sky, as I wept bitterly for these helpless ones. I could see the effect of war; I could feel the anguish emanating from the heart of these Somalis, I could see the importance of peace and countless reasons why we should seek it.

 

After we were able to maneuver our way through the heavy crowd, we travelled along the desert path from Marca, port city, southern Somalia towards Mogadishu which was 75km southwest. As we travelled along, I saw fathers and mothers, both old and young, and their children travelling by foot in the hot desert land without food, water or even shelter to protect themselves and their children against the wrath of the scorching sun. So many falling and dying by the way side due to the burning heat, thirst and starvation.

More than 800,000 Somalis had fled to refugee camps in neighboring Kenya and Ethiopia and an estimated 1.5million Somalis – a quarter of the nation’s population were currently displaced from their homes because of the war, severe drought and poverty. These problems where as a result of a failed state, a country without a government for over 22years. With the threat of the al-Qaida and the rebel militia, aid was not being delivered effectively. Humanitarian agencies were not able to access the south, the region hardest hit and some 500,000 famine victims remained trapped with the risk of being affected by other disease spreading in these areas or death from the hands of the militias. Among these were the exodus I saw travelling by foot, falling and dying by the way side in an attempt to reach Mogadishu for safety, water and food.

Somalia is more or less a desert country with less rain. There are two rainy seasons experienced in this region. The first occurs between the month of April to June which is called ‘’GU’’ while the second spell of rain occurs between the month of October and November which is called ‘’Dayr’’. There is another spell of rain that occurs in the month of July and August called ‘’Xagaaye’’ but it’s experienced in the areas of Kismaayo and Mogadishu. As a result of this drought, the people living in the northern part of Somalia finds it difficult to grow crops and rear animal’s because the area is considered to be the hottest place, around 78oF during winter and 105oF during summer, so those living in nearby villages and towns of Kismaayo and Mogadishu, have to travel to these cities in search of food and water which was not still available in much quantity to quench their hunger and taste. So many Somalis believed, the drought and starvation experienced in these critical times of their lives, was a sign the land had been cursed by the gods, because of the countless bloodshed.

As we travelled, I watched in fear for those travelling by foot because of the wild animals in the desert. These people were without any form of weapon or skill for defense or protection if when attacked by wild beast and would sever as an unpalatable meal to these animals, who would find them too skinny and very bony. As we continued our journey, we made several stops to help bandage wounds of helpless Somalis, those lying by the way side, victims of animal attacks, persons beaten either by a snake or survivals of lion attacks. This humanitarian aid slowed our movement and race for safety. It was a bit safer during the day for these foot travelers but under cover of darkness, it was a different story.

As we provided the little aid we could along the way, we took precautions so as not to be mobbed by these desperate travelers who appeared very hungry, thirsty and tired from their grueling journey, desperados who would do anything for a drink. With the little help from the military escort moving with us, danger was averted. Among the people we helped and the aid rendered to these helpless victims of war, poverty, drought and animal attacks on our way to safety was a little child of about 2years old, whose mother was been eaten alive by scavengers’. The scene was so touching and heartbreaking; the experience was very irritating that we were forced at this very sight to make a stop. We rescued this little lad who was crying helplessly on the floor close to the mother, watching and waiting to be rescued as she was been torn apart piece by piece, eaten alive by these vultures while Sergeant Rahmo one of our military escort, who was greatly disturbed as we were by the scene, came down from the truck and shot the mother on the head to the amazement of all, claiming his intent was to relieve her from her misery. The convoy was not happy with Rahmo’s action because we felt she could have been helped to a point but Rahmo who thought otherwise, felt killing her was the only possible option we had and the best way to set her free from her misery. At first I blamed him for his action but later saw reasons with him as we travelled along, that there was nothing we would have been able to do to save her rather than to cause her more pain.

Somalia was truly a hostile place to live, bitter cold, thin air, relentless wind hovering the air and the likes of hunger, drought, civil war and anarchy which was the order of the day. Faced with trials like these, how could anything survive here, let alone flourish? Only the most resilient of men could live here, those that could meet the challenge of elementary extremes of drought, flood and fire. A place that was once known to be the land of the living was now a land for the dead.

As we travelled along into the dawn of the day, I was forced to ask Rahmo who was sitting at the back of the truck I was in, how far we were from Mogadishu. I could see the smiles on his face as he answered with ecstasy

“We are 10kilometers away, Dr. Lewis”

When I heard 10kilometers away, I felt a little bit excited and peaceful ‘’thank Jesus’’ I said with great relief, knowing that we were just few kilometers to safety.

As we journeyed along, about 7kilometers away to safety, I heard a sudden blast at the front of our convoy. The truck, two vehicles ahead of mine carrying five passengers, all military men given to us as escorts by the security agency of Somalia was blown to pieces by a rocket launcher. Panic raid the air, fear gripped everyone and our convoy came to a halt.

‘’ What is happening out there? Rahmo’’ I asked in fear

‘’we are been attacked by the Al-shabaab militia group’’ he answered, “everyone get down!” he exclaimed

‘’get us out of here!”I pleaded in anguish.

As we tried maneuvering our way pass the truck in front of us that was already on flames, we heard another blast from behind.

This time it was the truck carrying food, water, some supplies belonging to us and some Somalis we helped on our way, those that sustained injuries in the exodus to Mogadishu, whose majority were women and children, blown to pieces by another rocket launcher. Among these persons was the two years old child we rescued on the way, whose mother was been torn apart by vultures.

Two minutes after the blast, we heard gun shots, bullets flying from every direction towards our convoy. As I lift up my head to watch, I saw in front of us three vehicles charging towards us in high speed, in a triangular shape with men on board heavily armed with machine guns, caliber: 7.7 *55mm SR, Capacity: 30round clip, Fire modes: fully automatic (450 rounds per minute), shooting ceaselessly towards our convoy. The other escorts of our convoy who survived the bomb blast jumped down from their trucks, coked their guns and fired back in an attempt to protect us but this proved futile because of the heavy animation of the opposition force and their numbers. Out flanked and outnumbered, we were forced to surrender.

The bravery which was displayed by our escort who survived the blast, taken out five of the enemies finest in the brawl which lasted for about 20minutes before the surrender was unbelievable. These men of courage were never going to surrender if not that they were out of Ammo. They knew what the enemies were capable of and were determined to defend their line before the call for backup arrived but luck ran out of us because of lack of ammo. It became a surrender or die affair and dying was not part of the plan neither was it a thought to be considered.

We were captured and taken hostage by the Al-shabaab group made of seventeen men led by their captain Hussein Borow Mohamed a grumpy psychopath and born Somali who spoke both Arab and English. He joined the insurgent group after the death of his father, Mohamed Borow Mohamed, one of the leaders of the Al-shabaab insurgent group, a loyalist to the former al-Qaida leader Osama bin Laden. His father was killed by the then government of Somalia in his home town of Baidoa, southern Somalia. Due to his hatred towards the government of Somalia which was as a result of his father’s death, Hussein and his twin brother joined the insurgent group of Somalia.

Surrounded in the form of a circle, stripped naked after been seriously beaten by these militias, the soldiers amongst us, men from our convoy that survived both the bomb blast and brawl were set on stage in a gladiatorial combat against each other to the death, with knives as their only weapon of defense while the five of us, who where civilians were made to watch these men slaughter themselves to death, in order to stay alive.

The first fray was between captain Abdikarim, captain of our convoy and sergeant Abdi Ibrahim Rahmo. Abdikarim refused the fray, standing his ground not to fight with his fellow soldier and countryman after hit several times with the head of one of the rebel’s gun. This very act of stubbornness led to his flesh ripped from his bone piece by piece with the use of a col-moschin knife of extreme ratio by Captain Hussein, captain of the lead rebel group. Abdikarim was ripped beyond recognition as he screamed in pain, bleeding almost to death. It was a horrible experience, as we watched in tears, a human being pealed like a piece of banana. These men were really brutal, demons in human flesh without conscience, beast craving for blood to quench their taste, dogs sent from the afterlife. It was a terrible scene, as I plunder within my heart in question “why did I make this trip to Africa?” Africa is a wonderful continent; blessed by Mother Nature with lots of resources and beautiful landscape. The problem was just that I was in a good place at the wrong time. A place where civil war, poverty and anarchy were the order of the day, a place where soldiers are formed out of kids and promising youths, a place where the hope of humanity gradually fades because of the quest for power and wealth, a place where the most resilient of men could live, those that could meet the challenge of elemental extremes of drought, poverty, flood and fire.

These men had to fight; they had to kill because they needed to stay alive. Killing your fellow soldier, countryman, best friend, brother and squad mate was the only ticket away from the land of the dead. They had to do it, they had to obey or suffer the same fate with Abdikarim. Soldiers given to us by the security agency of somalia for safety reasons on our arrival became soldiers in captivity, faced with one option, ‘’kill’’ or ‘’be killed’’.

The second fray was between Sergeant Asad and Rahmo. At first Rahmo didn’t want to fight, he was willing to share in the same fate as his captain but was forced to, by the very words of Hussein the rebel captain

“ you are proving stubborn aren’t you?, I will peel the skin, piece by piece of everyone of your men and then that of these white folks and I will make you watch as I rape this young lady, if you refuse to obey my command”

“Now, bush monkey, Fight! Or watch as I do what I have said”

This very words of Hussein, prompt him into action. The fray began and Asad didn’t last five minutes. His neck was broken at his first charge towards Rahmo and died instantly. The third and last fray was between Corporal Dalmar and Corporal Ghedi. These men fought life out of themselves with bruise and deep cuts all over their bodies to the amusement of the rebel soldiers who guffawed in Arabic at every cut these men lashed on themselves. The fray lasted for ten minutes before Ghedi was finally killed, leaving Dalmar seriously injured.

“What a brilliant show!” Hussein exclaimed with an applaud

Turning to the five of us tired down on the floor with hard ropes, sitting at a corner by one of their trucks, he asked

“What are you white folks doing in Somalia?

Dr. Ratliff spoke up, in an attempt to give a simple reply to his question

“My name is Dr. Jonathan Ratliff; I am a pediatrician from Baptist memorial hospital, union City, Tennessee, united state. I am an American………..

As Ratliff spoke, he was interrupted with a gunshot on his right arm by Hussein

“I asked a simple question, what are you folk doing in my country? I don’t care to know where you are from…. So I ask again, what are folks doing in my country?

In agony, bleeding from his left arm, Dr. Ratliff replied in pain and with a distressful cry

“We were here to bury my father-in-law”

“Good” Hussein responded with a wicked smile on his face.

Releasing several shots into the air, he started speaking Arabic violently. Immediately, we were grabbed by his men, forcefully blind folded and dragged into one of the trucks like animals to the slaughter. They did some display, as I could hear in the dark, the chanting of the men shouting in Arabic, shooting into the thin air, as we moved in circles for few minutes before finally driving away. The call for backup was a waste of time. Were they to come hours after our distress call, they would have met with us and probably, we would have been rescued but hey! They were nowhere to be found. Were they scared? Were they afraid of the rebels? Or was it away they intended to use to draw the attention of the American government to the crisis in Somalia? These and many others question went through my mind, as I thought in the dark.

We travelled for hours and made several stops. They were tough, rough and brutal with every word and with every touch, hitting us with their weapon, speaking Arabic violently whenever we were been dragged from the truck at these stops. After few minutes of rest, we continued our journey. As we journeyed along, our truck suddenly stopped again. At this stop, few minutes later, I could hear gunshots, men shouting in Arabic, jumping down from their trucks to engage in what seemed to be a fire fight. I couldn’t see but could only hear the sound of bullets hitting the truck I was in and men I believed, shot to death.

After the raid which lasted for about fifteen minutes, we were finally rescued by another group. At first I thought they were men from the Somali government when the raid was still on but only to my amazement, after been released from the back of the truck were I was tired with my head down alongside my friends, I discovered that they were kids. Where I stood amazed and confused, a young teenage girl carrying a machine gun walked to me and asked

“Do you want to live?”

I nodded my head in fear, not knowing what to say, nor how best to respond to her question. And then she responded to my gesture

“If you want to live, please get into our truck, for the enemies reinforcement would be here in no distant time. One of their trucks during the fray escaped and believe me, they will be back in great numbers’’

I didn’t know what to say nor do than to obey her instructions. Dr. Ratliff who was losing a lot of blood due to the injury he sustained on his arm and I entered the same truck with this young teenager, while Mac Peterson, Fathia Ratliff and Dr. Stephaney Evans entered one of the other trucks. I stayed with Dr. Ratliff, at the back of the moving truck to help apply pressure on his wound in order to stop the bleeding because he had lost a lot of blood during the period we were held hostage by the rebels.

“Are you a doctor?” the young teenager asked

“Yes I am……. My name is Dr John Lewis, I am an oncologist (a cancer doctor) but you can call me Lewis’’.

“I prefer Doctor” she replied offering me a hand shake as she continued

‘’ Nadifa! My name is Nadifa!”

‘’A pleasure Nadifa’’ I replied, as I received the hand shake.

“You work for the united nations? She asked

“No I don’t” I answered

“So what are you doing in Somalia? She asked

“Actually, we are here because of Fathia Ratliff. We came in three days ago, all the way from the united state to bury her father. Her father died a fortnight of cancer back in the state at Baptist memorial hospital, Union City, Tennessee, were I work. And we had to come down because Fathia and her husband Jonathan are my very good friends, we are like a family. We came in three days ago with his corps to his homeland at Marca, and this morning while we were preparing to bury him, we got information that the rebel group were advancing towards our location. So we had to dig the ground in a hurry and dump him in there, in an unethical manner, to make haste before the enemy approached but we ran out of luck, as we were ambushed on our way to safety and taken hostage by the rebel group. We were actually headed for Mogadishu before the inception by the rebels, losing almost all of our men…… and then you came” I answered.

Looking straight into my very eyes, she said

“Lucky you,”

“Thanks!” I replied shivering

After a few minutes of silence, I asked

“So what’s your story?

“Save it for another day’’ she answered with an obnoxious look on her face towards me

Taking a deep breath, I responded

“Okey-dokey”

“So where are we headed?” I answered out of curiosity

“Somewhere safe for now, until we get help” she replied.

“I’m much obliged to-to you for helping us” I responded

We travelled for hours into the night and then made a stop by a pine tree to rest, and made camp. Arale and Samatar, young teenage boys of age fifteen, forged into soldiers of war grudgingly by the havoc committed on their people by the AL-shabaab militia group, killing every member of their family, except the two of them who were lucky to escape and later joined this group, fighting for survival, were made to fetch the woods we used to make fire, to warm ourselves and to serve as light in the dark as we sat around and made the ground our beds were we lay, sleeping there for the night.

“Will you be kind enough, to tell me Nadifa, where we are headed? Forgive my curiosity; I would like to know.” I asked

“We are heading towards Jowhar, northeast from here. It lays 90kilometers along the major road pointing north of the national capital of Mogadishu’’ she answered

“I thought Mogadishu was that way, were we are coming from?’’ I asked, pointing to the southwest

She smile at my question and said

“Somalia is a desert place. If you are not use to these lands, you get lost easily”.

Opening a map, she pointed to me our present location, which was east of Somalia. I was stunned on how we had got there, all the way from Port city, forty five miles southwest of Mogadishu before the inception. Taking a deep breath, I hummed.

“So are you ready to tell me your story now” I asked

“You never give up, do you? So what are you waiting to hear?” she answered with a question

“If you don’t mind telling me everything” I answered with a smile

“You mean the story of my life or that of Somalia?” she asked laughing

“Let’s start with you” I answered

“o.k.” taking a deep breath she continued

“As you already know, my name is Nadifa. I am from Afgooye district of the lower shabelle region here in Somalia where I once lived, four years ago with my family, when warlords assaulted our home, demanding for my hand in marriage. They tied my father to a chair and raped my mother to death as they made him watch.”

She pursed for a while and then continued, with a sober and sorrowful tune

“They butchered my twin brother Nadif and our new born baby Awa, piece by piece like animals and fed their bodies to their dogs. I couldn’t come out from my hideout because I was so scared, as I watched these bastards tear my family to pieces, feeding their bodies to their dogs’’

She pursed again for a while, wiped the tears off her face and then continued

“After they left, I came out from my hideout and ran out of the house. I kept running until the fall of night when I fell asleep by a dune tree. Lonely and afraid of the noise and cry of wild animals, not far away from where I lay with one eye closed, I covered myself with falling leaves from the trees as a disguise from both creepy, crawling and walking dangerous creatures of the dark. My heart beating fast, wishing and praying that the breaking of dawn might come speedily before time, but hey! The more I prayed and wished, the longer I waited for a never dawning day. Finally at dawn when I woke, walking back and forth, I couldn’t find a single living soul. It seemed as though the people of the entire district had been completely wiped out from the face of the earth by a mystical force because the entire region was as quiet as the graveyard and filled with dead bodies, lying all over the streets”.

“Without food and water, I walked for two days in the streets of Afgooye and then I finally passed out, only to be revived days later and given a place I now call home by Labaan our leader”.

“Where is Labaan?” I asked

“He is dead” she answered and continued

“He was killed in a fire fight two years ago, by the Al-shabaab militias. He taught me everything. How to fight, how to stand and how to survive! I learnt everything from him………..

“I can see you learnt well”, Peterson said

“Yes I did! I was second in command and very close to him” she replied

“How do you guys get weapons and ammo? I asked

“We get supplies from some government bodies when Labaan was still alive” she replied

“Government bodies, you said! I exclaimed

“I rather not talk about that’’ she answered

“Wait a minute, if Labaan is dead and you were second in command when he was still alive, that make you the leader now, right? Peterson asked

“Yes! She replied

“Wow! That’s big. How old are you? Stephaney asked

“I’m seventeen.” She replied

“Whoa! Did you say seventeen? Peterson asked, with a stunning look

“Yes! They found me and took me in, as part of their family when I was only fourteen. I did a lot, to win respect and gain favor from our leader. At his passing, he made me the leader”. She replied

“Apart from the men you killed earlier today, in an attempt to rescue us, how many men have you killed? Peterson asked out of curiosity

“I think over fifty men, in counting. She answered

With his mouth wild open, turning towards me, Peterson whispered

“Did you just hear that? She is only seventeen, a kid! And have killed more than fifty people in counting. Did you hear that? In counting………. Wow! I better get some sleep, goodnight.”

He lay down, and turned his back at us to sleep. She smiled and then responded to Petersons words

“We kill not for fun, but to defend ourselves. We kill the bad people, enemies of Somalia, enemies of peace, in order to stay alive. But they kill for fun; they kill for power, position and pride. Killing innocent people is not away to freedom or a way to prove a point, neither is it the will of Allah! These men are but vigorous beast. They kill our fathers; rape our women to death both old and young. They butcher our brothers and sisters like animals. They are the most dangerous of beast in the face of the earth. Anything on their path run, fly or die”. They should be stopped and we gradually doing that’’.

“Is it by killing over fifty men, in counting you are intending to put an end to this menace? You don’t stop violence with violence, do you? Peterson asked turning towards us again

She smiled again and answered

“This is not America where you live in skyscrapers, eat hotdogs and dance to good music. This is Somalia, the horn of Africa were only the most resilient of men live, those that can meet the challenges of elemental extremes of drought, flood and fire.

“Only the mother hen knows what danger lurks ahead when tempted to sleep on the ground at the fall of night.”

“You can only but imagine what would move a man to take the life of another man for no reasonable cause. We wouldn’t sit, fold our arms and watch others slaughter us to death, but stand and defend ourselves.

“If you believe Dr. Peterson, that killing these men is wrong, then what is your believe towards their actions? What is your believe then towards the children who watch their parents, raped, beheaded, slaughtered and shot dead for no just cause? What is your believe towards Somalis who are been chased out from their homes into the wild, hopeless men, women and children walking to distant land for safety, shelter, water and food because of the fear of death in the hands of these rebels?

“I don’t care what you believe Dr. Peterson or whatever you call yourself. I lost my entire family to these wicked creatures, believe me I would rather see them all dead!”

“I understand how you feel, I know he goofed in sounding the way he did earlier, please forgive his foolishness” I replied in a courteous manner to rebuke Peterson’s obnoxious remark

She lifted up her head, gave a smile and then responded to my apology

“Tab ‘an, the man that killed my family, his name is Tab ‘an .He is a warlord and a faithful servant to the Al-shabaab group. He is the second in command to Hassan, one of the most dreaded leaders of the Al-shabaab militias creating havoc in the south. Do you remember the captain of the militias that held you guys hostage before the inception?

“Yes! I do. Hussein I guess? I answered

“Yes! Hussein. He is the twin brother to Hassan the butcher of Baidoa. That is what he is called by his people. That man wiped an entire village, killing everything that walked, ran and flied.”

As she spoke Peterson interrupted her

“You see what I meant, we are dead already. You guys heard what she called him, The Butcher! That guy is going find us and kill us…………………

“Be quite Peterson! Whispered Fathia, in rebuke

“You were dead the very first day you set foot on these very soil, so stop the self pity and man up” she responded, looking towards me she asked

“What is goof?

“Excuse me? I answered with a question asked

“I mean what is the meaning of goof? She asked again

“Oh! It means to make a stupid mistake. I answered

“What about curiosity, what does it mean? She asked

“It means a strong desire to know about something”. I answered

“You are quite good in English, how did you learn? I asked

She laughed and then answered

“I don’t think I’m that good. My mother’s tongue makes it sound like shit.” She spoke with a smile

“Well I was thought by my grandfather, who is late now. He used to be an English teacher in one of our local schools years ago in our village before the massacre. Every evening under the moonlight sky, he sits in his usual chair at the front of the house, with children from various homes gathered all around him and teaches every one of us. He was a good man”

“What happened to him? I asked

“They killed him five years ago, on his way back from school where he went to teach, and then I was just twelve years old” she replied

She went on and on as she spoke of all her bitter experiences, the rape, killing, forced marriage and even the beheading of women at the hands of the Islamic militias who have overrun much of the country, most especially those cities of the south. She told of millions of Somalis who had fled their homeland and taken refuge in neighboring countries and distant places, millions more living within the country, displaces from their homes, living in terror and in very difficult circumstances and conditions. While thousands each year, in great danger of pirates and the treacherous sea, trying to cross the sea for safety to the countries to their north. She also told on how she used to be very timid and afraid of the dark but now fearless and brutal. A seventeen year old girl, leading an army of 13 men and 39 children, all heavily armed with machine guns and local barrels. It was really mind blowing.

We talked into the dark of night, until we finally fell asleep. The following morning we set out on our way to the camp she told us about at Jowhar northeast of Somalia. We drove for hours, till it was mid-day. The weather was so hot and windy that we could hardly see what was ahead.

“How far are we? Peterson asked

“We are ten minutes away” Arale answered

He looked towards Nadifa and asked

“So what’s your plan to help get us out of the country?

“I don’t know for now, when we get to a safe place, we will make plans” she answered

Ten minutes later, we arrived the camp and drove in

“Are you sure we are at the right place, because I haven’t noticed any movement? Peterson asked

“Oh! My God, Fathia exclaimed

“What happened here? I asked

Everyone was stunned and confused in fear, moving slowly with precaution, watching around as we all moved, and spread all over.

“Awa! Awa!! Awa!!!....... She called, running helter-skelter screaming in tears, the name Awa! Were I stood, watching in a sorrowful mood, here she came weeping bitterly as she walked towards Dr. Peterson and the four of us clustered together watching. Carrying a little child on her arms, she wept in words as tears of sorrow flowed down her cheeks

“She is but a little child. What wrong did she commit to be butchered in such a way…what wrong did these helpless ones lying dead on the ground commit? Here you stand, judging my actions and asking how many men have I killed. What do you now have to say about this? Are you now without words, Dr. Peterson? I have not begun! I will see them all sent to the afterlife………….she lamented

As she walked away, she turned to Peterson again and said

“The next time you judge my actions, I promise to make it your last!

“Nadifa, I know how you feel and I am sorry-am sorry for what I said”. Peterson replied

“I think we should get out of here, this place is not safe”. Stephaney commented

“We are not going anywhere, until we bury these bodies”. I responded

She walked pass by, gave me a nudge and whispered “thank you Dr. Lewis”

“You are welcome, now let’s get to work! I replied

The twenty eight of us went into work. We dig holes and buried the bodies of those we could and burned the others that were butchered to pieces, bodies whose parts couldn’t be identified and that was difficult to bury because they were scattered all over the place in pieces. The total numbers of persons buried and burnt were about a hundred and fifty two, whose majorities were defenseless women and children. It was a terrible and horrible scene, one that could only be carried out by heartless maniacs. Men void of conscience, dead at heart and darkened in soul, villains and beasts from Hades. These were the very work of the rebel group. They burnt the entire camp, did away with the little food, water and gasoline that sustained the people, killing these defenseless men, women and children.

After the burial, we had a minute silence in respect of the dead and then we hopped into our trucks and drove off.

“Here, have some candies”. Peterson offered

“No thanks, I am not hungry. Nadifa replied

“It’s sweet and taste good”. Stephaney said

“Ah! Sweet, Here in Somalia, nothing is sweet. When you feast long on pain and sorrow, as we all have, it becomes difficult to recall sweeter taste.” She replied and continued

“Do you know that there are people in this country that profits a lot from this war? All the common people seek in Somalia is peace, but how can it be found in a country that have only known war for more than 21years?

“My diseased father once told me while I was growing up that this war began in 1991 when a coalition clan-based armed opposition group ousted the nation’s long-standing military government. From that period till date, it has been one out break or the other. Lots of fighting has flared up with little warning, kidnapping, murder and other threats to foreigners like you occur unpredictably. Parts of the north have been relatively peaceful including much of the self-declared Republic of Somaliland….. Can you imagine a self-declared republic, not by the government?

“Wow! Isn’t it amazing, Dr. Peterson? Does this happen in America? She asked

“Many things happen in America, but not this one”. Dr. Peterson replied

“Welcome to the real world! I exclaimed

After travelling for about an hour, I was forced to ask

“Where are we headed now?

“Thank God! I thought you would never ask”. Dr, Peterson responded

[She chuckled], looking at Dr. Peterson with a smile, turning to me she replied

“I don’t know for now”.

“What! What do you mean, you don’t know for now? Peterson asked

“We have been travelling for hours and yet you have no idea, where we are going? This is unbelievable”. Peterson responded again

“Stop the truck! I exclaimed

She spoke in Arabic ordering the driver to stop the truck. The other two trucks behind us came to a halt at our stop, with the occupants wondering while we had made the stop. The six of us in the truck I was in, came down from the truck and when other occupants of the other trucks saw us coming down, they followed.

“What’s happening? Lewis” Dr. Ratliff asked

“We need to have a plan on how we are going to leave this country. We have been driving for about an hour without knowledge of our destination.

“Nadifa, kindly help me with the map”. I asked

Placing the map on the bonnet of the truck, with everyone surrounding the map

“Where exactly are we now Nadifa on the map” I asked

Pointing to the map, she gave a description

“If jowhar is that way, where we are coming from, it simply means we are about 70kilometers or more from the national capital of Mogadishu”. She answered

“If we are to go through the major road leading to Mogadishu, how are we expected to elude the enemy? Dr. Ratliff asked

“You are right Ratty. Are there no other routes we can pass through apart from the major road? I asked

“There are, but we can’t really tell what danger lurks ahead in those routes. She answered

“So what do you think, Lewis? Peterson asked

“Mm-hum, well I think we should take the major road. It will be safer than the jungle or shortcuts and I-I also think we should be prepared in case of any eventuality” I answered

“Prepared for what, are you nuts? Peterson asked with a stunning gesture and then continued

“It seems to me that you guys have all lost your minds. You want to prepare for those maniacs, with what if I may ask? A dagger, a pistol or these old riffles used for hunting. You call these guns or do you want to face them with these kids? Men who are dead at heart, willing to die at any opportunity, whose souls have been sold to the devil”.

“Stop being a sissy” Stephaney replied

“I don’t care if you call me a sissy. We are doctors Stephaney, doctors! Not soldiers, we treat people not kill them.

“Come to think of it Stephaney, have you ever held a gun? It’s not the way you see it in the movies sweetheart, this is real, and this is Somalia, the horn of Africa”.

“You are talking complete rubbish Peterson…….” Ratliff responded

“I am not talking rubbish Ratty.

“Take a good look at the five of us;

“What are we for Christ sake?

“I am a cardiologist, Ratty! You are a pediatrician, fathia! A nurse, Lewis! An oncologist, and Stephaney, a bloody rheumatologist, you think this is the hospital?

“This is not Tennessee guys; if you are deep asleep; you better wake up because we are in the bloody desert of Somalia hunted by rebels. Peterson responded

“So what’s your point, what do you suggest we do? Fathia asked

“I don’t know. He answered with a funny look on his face

“Get in the truck guys, we are taking the major road” I responded

As we journeyed alone the major road towards Mogadishu, Nadifa tuned on the radio, and on one of the stations a man was speaking Arabic. So I asked

“What’s he saying?

“Lead us on the road of jihad and martyrdom, in the footsteps that our martyr Osama bin Laden has drawn for us” she replied

“What! Who the hell is this guy? Peterson asked

“His name is Ahmed Abdi Godane known as Mukhtar Abu Zubir, leader of the Al-shabaab. He calls his soldiers the “Mujahedeen brothers” she replied

“Who is he addressing? Stephaney asked

“He is addressing the current al Qaida leader, Al Zawahiri”. She replied

“Wow! You know a lot little girl” Peterson exclaimed

When I heard from the radio, the comment of the Al shabaab leader made while addressing the current al Qaida leader in Arabic, I felt the clouds in Somalia was getting ever thicker and more darker by the day for those helpless men, women and children trapped within the very walls of Somalia, victims of famine and droughts, which has swept almost across the entire region, in the very horn of Africa.

We traveled for hours into the night and then made a stop to rest for that night. We traveled slowly and with caution, making several stops on the way because of the unknown dangers lurking ahead and also because of the people we traveled with that needed medical attention. We traveled with less food and little cans of water that wouldn’t be able to take us into the next day if we were unable to make it to Mogadishu before noon the following day. Getting to Mogadishu was a must journey but difficult one to be taken with proper care and caution. So we made camp that night in other to save fuel and energy for the journey ahead.

It was less stressful and cooler to travel by night because of the temperature and the less consumption of water that wasn’t available in much quantity but safer and wiser to travel by day though with lots of energy consumption.

Under cover of darkness were we laid closely together that night we made camp, looking unto the heavens Stephaney asked

“Are we going to make it?

“I can’t really tell,’’ I answered reluctantly

“It’s my entire fault! I wouldn’t have allowed you guys come down with me to Africa for my father’s funeral”, Fatima exclaimed

“Hey sweet heart don’t say that,

“We are glad and honored to have accompanied you down here; it’s not your fault.

“We are your family and we will make it out of here together, I promise you” Stephaney comforted with a hug

“Yeah,

What rubbish Fathia, we are family and this is what family do, so stop blaming yourself, he was like a father to us all, although I barely knew him before he passed on but the few weeks I spent with him at the hospital and advice I received from him on how to go about winning Sarah’s heart was enough to call him father” Peterson replied

“What! Ratliff exclaimed with a stunning look on his face as surprise as we all were

“What’s-what?

With his hand widely spread

“Yeah he taught me how to win Sarah’s heart, is there anything wrong about that? Peterson replied

And then everyone [chuckled]

“No peter, it’s just that you never told me’’ I responded [chuckling]

“Ha, ha, very funny……. [He Sighed]

“Must I tell you everything? He replied

“I am your best friend peter” I answered [still chucking]

“Yeah I know but this has nothing to do with it” he replied

“Stop being a coward peter, I don’t see any reason you shouldn’t have told us” Ratliff responded

“Hey, who brought this guy along? Peterson asked, making a joke

“I did, he’s my husband” Fathia replied with a joke [everyone chuckled]

As we chat and made fun of ourselves as deep darkness fell, I was asked the strangest question of my life

“Are you married? Nadifa asked

“Sorry? I replied

Pretending I didn’t hear the question

“Are you married? She asked again

“No-no I am not, I replied

“Why are you not married? She asked

“Work, I answered

“That’s the dumbest answered I have ever heard in my entire life….” Peterson responded with a slap at the back of my head

Meanwhile the others had all fallen asleep, just the three of us were awake, keeping watch

“Do you have a girl friend? She asked

“I-I used to have but not anymore” I answered

“So what happened? She asked

“She left for another guy,

“Can we please drop this, I am getting a little bit uncomfortable with this topic’’ I replied with a smile

“Alright, it’s just that I noticed she likes you” she replied

“Excuse me? What are you talking about?” I asked

“Goodnight Doctor Lewis, she replied

“Wait a minute; you can just do this,

“Do what? She asked

“You can’t just say a word and place me on suspense, without completing your statement, this is serious……

“Can we please drop this; I am getting a little bit uncomfortable with this conversation” she replied

“Whoa-whoa, I get it, you are trying to get back at me,

“Ha, ha, funny [I sigh]

She turns as she lay to sleep; uncomfortable I sat, inching to know who she was referring to, I drew closer whispering into her ears, I asked,

“Hey! Am sorry for sounding the way I did,

“What you were saying earlier, who were you referring to?

“Who is the She?

She turned towards me and whispered to my face

“Hey! Goodnight”

And then she turned to sleep. I was so frustrated by this very act of hers, so curious to know who she was referring to, I turned to Peterson who was still awake and was a part of the conversation to ask whispering……

“Who do you think she was referring to?”

“I don’t really know,

“They are six young women here, she might be referring to anyone of them” Peterson replied

“Why are so curious? He asked

“Nothing, lets drop it like she said” I answered

[Thunder clapped]

“It seems as though it’s going to rain, the weather is a bit chilly’’ I spoke

“Rain; in the middle of the desert, you must be kidding me” Peterson responded

We talked and talked as we whispered about life in America, the food we missed, the fun and all the goodies, including our loved ones with the hope of returning to them again in one piece, until we talked ourselves into sleep.

The following morning we were awake by the honking of the truck horn

“wakey –wakey,

“Get up; it’s time to move on,

I heard in my wake, the voice of Stephaney and Nadifa

“Were we going to? Peterson asked, rubbing the sleep off his eyes and stretching as he yarns

“We are going home” Ratliff replied, loading the sleeping bags on the truck.

We all entered the trucks and then moved. As we drove along the way, I still was very disturbed and anxious to know who Nadifa was referring to in her statement she made the night before, so I was forced to ask her again

“Hey, how was your night….? I asked whispering

“Fine, she answered and asked

“How was yours?

“Good? I replied

“You slept well? I asked

“Yes’’ she replied with an astonishing look on her face

“Why did you ask?

“Nothing, just curious… I replied

“Good, how about you? She asked

“What? I responded

“I mean did you sleep well? She asked

“Oh! Not really I replied

“Why?

“Well Mm, I kept wondering who you were referring to last night, when you said you think she likes me”

[I chuckled] and then continued

“I am curious, sorry

“Mm-hm, don’t bother, I am not going to tell you anything, yesterday has past” she replied

These very words of hers dealt a great blow to my heart and killed the hope of me ever getting to know this secret admirer of mine. I felt very stupid at this point in my life to have allowed such discussion the night before to end the way it did.

Who might this be? I kept plundering and asking these questions in my heart, hoping and praying it would be the one I have come to love so much before we ever attempted making this journey to Africa.

A friend I so cherished and loved in my thoughts without a spoken word to her because of fear of rejection and comments by people. One whose heart belonged to another, a man i so respect and called friend amongst friends. If it were to be true, what would be said of me by my folks back in the state? Would I still be known and called friend or would i be known as a traitor and betrayer. I couldn’t think clearly. I was tormented in my thoughts, anxious to know who my secret admirer was. To make matters worse, Nadifa refused to tell.

We drove for about an hour in the desert road and then suddenly the truck in front of ours stopped

“Whoa, why are we stopping? Peterson asked

“I don’t know,

“I think it’s because the truck in front stopped” I replied stunned

As we spoke, the driver and others in the first truck came down, so we had to come down too, to verify what might have been the problem

“Why did we stop? I asked

“The truck is bad” Nadifa replied

“What!

“No, way not today

“This can’t be happening” Peterson responded

“What’s seems to be the problem with the truck? I asked

“We don’t know” Nadifa replied

“Is there gas? Stephaney asked

“Yes there is, it just stopped” Nadifa answered

“Can we fix it? Stephaney asked again

Nadifa walking towards the bonnet to open it, she answered

“I don’t know, until we figure out what the problem is…..

“So what do we do now? Peterson asked

“You guys should move along,

“You take the wounded along with you using the other two trucks,

“I will stay behind with Nadifa and four of her men until we get this truck fixed,

“We promise to catch up with you guys…. I replied

“Are you nuts?

“I ‘m not going anywhere without you Rambo,

“We are going together” Peterson responded

Turning towards me Nadifa said

“Hey, you can go….

“We will catch up,

“We will be fine

[I chuckled] and replied

“No, I am not going anywhere, I volunteered to stay

“And I am staying, I have told them we will catch up with them, you guys can go, and I will be o.k.

They all entered the other two movable trucks, except Peterson and Stephaney who were never going to leave without me

“Stephaney please, you need to go with them, I will be fine

“We will catch up with you guys, I promise…

As though my words held no weight, falling on deaf ears she walked closer to me and replied, with tears on her eyes

“I am not going any were without you, save your breath……

“End of discussion” she replied as she walked passed me towards the bonnet of the truck that was broke down,

I turned towards Peterson

“Peterson? I called

“You heard the lady; I’m not leaving without you” he answered

I felt so hopeless in my attempt to convince them to leave without me, so we all came to an agreement they stay behind but insisted Ratliff and Fatima go along with the wounded victims and other survivals but to their amazement, Fatima refused to go.

“He is injured, he should go,

“I am staying behind and I am not leaving without you guys” Fatima said

I was not surprised at her discussion because I expected it to happen, I was only afraid of the consequences that would follow. Ratliff who was stunned by the sudden decision of his wife became very unhappy with her and opposed her decision of wanting to stay behind; he was injured and expected she would be with him but her decision of wanting to stay behind sent the wrong message, making Ratliff very sad. As she tried to kiss and embrace him in comfort, sending a message that she will be fine, he walked away without saying a word into the truck as they moved.

Here she stood sobering and weeping, regretting- I thought -her decision of staying behind wasn’t a good idea but never wanting to change her mind because it was already made up. As she wept, Stephaney went close by and embraced her with comfort. Walking passed me,Nadifa whispered

“I told you, she liked you.

“What! I exclaimed in great amazement and shock

Her whispered words made me more confused and uncomfortable, so I walked to Peterson

“Could I ask a consideration of you? I asked

“Yes boss, anything” he answered

“Could you help he confirm from Nadifa, who the lady she talked about the other night was?

“Why? He asked as he looks towards Fatima’s direction

“Oh! My God” He exclaimed

“I can’t believe this,

“You are in love with her” he spoke in amazement

“Love with whom? I asked

[He chuckled]

“I can see it written all over you eyes,

“No wonder she wept when she looked at you,

“You are one sick bastard, [He chuckled]

“So you are in love with her? He asked

“Yes I am and I can’t explain why, so don’t border asking”

“Have you told her? He asked

“No I haven’t” I replied

“There are two kinds of people in this world, those that make things happen and those that watch them happen,” he said as he looked at me with a smile and then asked

“Which do you want to be Lewis?

“I don’t know,

“I think I am scared” I answered

“In love there is no fear,

“The older we get the more precious we are, you are not a kid, you just have to tell her how you feel” he replied with a smile and a tap on my back as he walked away towards the truck that broke down.

We spent hours working on the truck without being able to detect the fault; we worked and worked until the night came gradually

“What do we do now? Peterson asked

“I don’t know but we can’t stay here? Nadifa replied

“What do you mean? I asked

“Hassan will not be far behind now; he might have been tracking use for long,

“Trust me; you don’t want to be found by him” she replied

“You mean the butcher of Baidoa? Peterson asked

“Yes, the butcher” she replied

“Whoa, great- so what do we do?

“You guys heard what she just said; the butcher is behind, probably tracking us,

“Great! Great!!

“So what do we do Huh? He asked

”We move on,

“Get all our belongings” I responded

“What!

“But how? Peterson asked

“We travel by foot” I replied

“Foot, on the desert

How great!

“You heard the man, get your belongings

Wonderful!” he murmured as he walked towards the truck to get his bag

Fatima walked towards me and asked

“Are you sure we will make it on foot?

“It’s getting dark; and I don’t think it will be a wise decision

“I understand but I am not ready to take any chances staying here, you heard what Nadifa said,

“The butcher is not far behind” I answered

So we packed all our belongings, the truck battery and head lamps of the truck and set off on our way to Mogadishu by foot. We walked for hours before we finally got to a point where we made camp to rest for the night. Where I sat close to the fire, Nadifa came and sat close by

“Are you ready to man up? She asked

“What? I asked stunned by her question

“I mean are you willing and ready to tell her how much you care about her? She asked

“You mistake intentions,

“She is married for crying out loud and the wife to my best friend and moreover I don’t have feelings for her” I whispered

“Married? I never knew she was” she replied

“What do you mean?

“Who are you referring to? I asked as I wondered

“Who do you think am referring to? She asked

“Fatima”, I replied

“Are you sick? Fatima is married, why should I think she desires you” she replied with an obnoxious look on her face

“Thank God,” I responded with great relieve

“For once I thought you were referring to Fatima as my secret admirer” I said

“Not at all” she replied

“Then who were you referring to? I asked with curiosity

“Stephaney,” she replied

“Wow, you mean she likes me? I asked

“Yes, and I know you share same feelings with her

“Yes I do, the problem is, I don’t know how to tell her” I answered

“How do you mean? She asked

“You wouldn’t understand,

“Sometimes, when you are overcome by the power of love, you become speechless

It automatically turns you into a mute” I replied with a smile

She turned towards me, hit a wood on my head and said with a smile on her face

“You should be ashamed of yourself,

You mean you cannot tell a woman to her face you like her?

“It’s not that I can’t tell a woman to her face I like her, is just that this is different,

What I feel for her is different, I have never felt this way before” I replied

“So you are in love with her” she asked

“Yes, I think so” I replied

“You think so? Or you know so? She asked

“Sorry, I know so” I replied

She lay down and looked upward towards the heaven and then said

“I was once in love,

“Sorry?” I asked stunned

“Are you surprised? She asked with a smile

“Yeah, I am” I replied

“You don’t have to be,

I fell in love when I was fifteen years old with a man old enough to be my father,

It was a beautiful experience, one I prayed never to end or ever let go but as time went by after his death, I was getting further and further away, from all that I ever was. I felt lost, chasing a ghost I might never find but what I found I wasn’t prepared for. Everywhere I looked; there was crime without punishment, hunger without food, and thirst without water.Every night was a struggle, and every meal a gift,

How could anyone love in such conditions?

But yet I fell in love,

I couldn’t see the war, I couldn’t feel the hunger nor was the thirst, and all I could feel was love and all I could see was my lover. But here you lay with the woman you love, cease this opportunity or forever be the fool’’ she said

I really felt stupid after the conversation I had with her. A seventeen year old lecturing me on how to become a real man, it wasn’t fun to begin with. As we kept chatting about love and its beauty, she brought out a picture from her left pocket, stirred at it for few minutes and kissed it, in tears.

Are you alright? I asked

[Chuckled] she answered, of course am not. How can anyone pretend to be alright in such conditions? She asked, Are you alright Doctor?

No I am not but am just trying to be positive. Maybe believe we could get out of here alive [chuckled] I answered

Is she a relative of yours? I mean the little girl in the picture, I asked

She gave me the picture, still with tears running down her cheeks and chuckled

It’s my daughter Awa. She answered

What! Whoa! am so sorry, I didn’t know you had a daughter.

Is she the little child you carried back in the camp?[stammering as I asked]

Yes she is. She answered

And I loved her as much as I loved her father La’ban

Oh! La’ban,

Your leader? I asked

Yes! He was the love of my life. He saved my life so many times even at the expense of others. She answered

I understand your pain. There is always that special one in every one’s life. Go to sleep now, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow. I said

We both said goodnight to each other and went to sleep as the night came to an end.

In the early hours of the morning when I woke up, I found dead bodies lying on the floor. Nadifa, Stephaney, Peterson, and Fathia were all gone. At first I thought I was dreaming. I was so confused and disturbed of what might have happened to them all a night before. I had no noise, there were no gunshots that could have awaken me that night to it all but yet blood and dead bodies lying on the floor. Bodies of the four men that Nadifa ask to accompany us when our truck broke down, with bullets everywhere. I was bleeding on the back of my head and at the left side of my belly, wondering how I got shot but yet never felt the pain until I was awaken to such tragedy. I struggled to hold myself because I could barely stand up right, walking towards these dead bodies, checking if any was still alive. I saw tracks of vehicle tires all over the place and wondered why I didn’t hear anything the night before. Was I drugged or something? I asked myself countless times without having a clue of what the answer could be. The air was so empty and sad, the cloud looked angry and thundered loud, the wind that blew was harsh and unfriendly, filled with death in its wings. I couldn’t see clearly but yet I knew I lived and survived somehow. But how did I survive? That to me was a mystery.

I tried to stop the bleeding by applying pressure on it but couldn’t remove the bullet from my belly because I had not the equipments to carry out such operation on myself. I had to tie the surface with a piece of rag, torn from one of the clothes worn by one of the deceased men on the floor and used his machine gun that was out of bullets as a wage to support my movement, which was very difficult to do. As I stood for few minutes, contemplating what to do, I hard a distress call coming from the east. It was a female voice crying afar for help. I rain as fast but helpless as I could towards the direction the voice was coming from, in getting there to my amazement, it was Fatima bleeding all over her body, lying helplessly on the floor, struggling with death. I quickly held her up, tied the area she was bleeding from and applied pressure on it, in order to stop the bleeding. I ran around, checking empty cans in search of water but found just a little from one of the can’s laying beside one of the deceased men and ran back to where she lay, to give her a drink.

[Coughing in pain and sobering] thank God you are alive! She said

I don’t understand, what the hell happened? I asked

[Coughing again] it happened so fast like a flash of light, within a twinkling of an eye

[Sobering] they came so fast, with gunshots everywhere

Who are they? What are you talking about Fatima? I asked

Hassan! The man they called the butcher...She answered [coughing]

Where is Stephaney? I asked

They took us away and threw me off the moving truck because I was struggling with them [coughing] they shot my leg and left me to die here, then drove off with Stephaney, Nadifa and Peterson... She answered

What happened to me? I asked amazed

Nadifa hit you with the head of her gun the very moment you woke and quickly shot you on your belly. You blacked out... she said

What! Why will she shoot me? I asked

To save you I guess [still coughing],

The moment we were captured, we all thought you were dead. They left your body because they thought you were one among the four victims of the cross fire.

She probably saved your ass I guess [coughing and smiling]…

She dropped something inside your pocket during all this and kissed your head... she answered

I quickly put my hand in my pocket to see what it was and discovered that it was the picture of her little daughter Awa, the little girl that was butchered back in the camp, days ago. I burst into tears bitterly, holding Fatima fist to myself and cried out loud like a little child

It was so hot and windy, I could barely see. I prayed the gods to help me but yet they mocked me with sands all over my mouths and feet’s. Fatima was dying; we were at the desert with no water or food to eat. The night was coming, deep darkness embraced the sky. It sounded as though the clouds where angry but yet it didn’t cry at all. I had to carry her as much and as far as I could but as I walked and stumbled, I noticed that she was dead already.

Bitter and rage filled my soul, I was mad at every point and cried at every thought that crossed my heart. I had no tools to dig; I had no clothes to bury her with. So I had to cover her up with heaps of sands so as to prevents her body from been eaten by scavengers or wild beast.

After I did that, I set out on my way to the north, not knowing where I was going or coming from. All I wanted was to see myself in Mogadishu or embassies were I could get help for my friends that were kidnapped by the insurgence. As I walked, losing strength and lots of blood, I saw what looked like trucks from afar charging towards my direction. I couldn’t see them clearly because I was so weak, dehydrated and hungry. The people in the trucks seem to carrying weapons, shooting to the air. As I attempted running back towards the direction I was coming from, I fell down on the ground and passed out.

 

 

 

 

 

Impressum

Texte: Evans Egualeona
Bildmaterialien: google
Lektorat: Persian Khushi, Evans Egualeona
Übersetzung: Evans
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.09.2014

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To God Almighty and all the Children that were victims and used as soldiers of war in Somalia...