My final days

We stayed with the traveling company for another week before we came to the city Nyala. There, we split and headed our separate ways. By some miracle, mother found us a home to live in. We had to room with three other families which meant that living space was cramped and vile. I had two meals a day consisting of shai (tea), chicken in a strong broth, beans,adaas, and for dessert, hoshab (a sweet made of bananas, figs, and raisins). At night, mother and I slept on the floor with one blanket to cover us both. There was no bathroom, instead we used a ditch in the back of the house. Life was very boring, and with no kids to play soccer with, I usually daydreamed or slept. The sound of gunfire could almost always be heard in the city, and I began to get used to the r'attata of the guns.

After a while, mother got a job working with leather goods. Soon, I was all alone and one day, I decided to try and find something to do. Walking out of the house, I scanned the surrounding area. The main road was very dirty and covered in trash. People were slumped against walls looking tired and lost while a group of women were chatting in a small group and washing laundry. But the thing that caught my eye was a group of boys playing tag close bye. They all wore long pants and collared shirts. A couple even wore stylish hats to protect their heads from the sun. In my opinion, the boys looked much better than me in my full tan "body suit", as I liked to call it. Nevertheless, I decided to go and talk to them. As I walked over, one of the boys shouted at me "الذي يكون أنت".-Who are you?

I replied "أنا حميد [كهليد] ، الذي يكون أنت" as I took a step closer to the group.-I am Hamid Kahlid, who are you?

The boy answered, "اسمي [إيمن] سمير ، وهذا صديقاتي" as he spread his hands out indicating the group around him.-my name is Imen Samir, and these are my friends. Slowly, me and Imen began to bond and before I knew what had hit me, he had invited me to go with him and his friends to "have some more fun," as he put it.

"Where are we going" I asked Imen as we started to walk to the outskirts of town.

"You'll see" he said with a sly smile. Soon, we arrived a place full of sand that reminded me of a little dessert. "Now, just follow what I do," he said and with a great leap he sored over a small ledge and landed on the sand below. "C'mon" Imen shouted as he waved his hand towards me.
Without thinking, I jumped and flipped over the ledge onto the ground. I can remember how I never would have done this if I had never left my home.

I was with that group that rest of my time in Nyala. We were always together and sometimes my mother would tease me about it.

I was Lucky. I never had to witness anything as bad as some of the other people in that group. One time, Imen told me how his parents were shot in front of him and how his baby brother was beheaded because he had cried at the wrong time. I remember that I cried all night for him and his family. I had never cried that much for anyone I had never knew. Lady Luck again was with me when mother got us visas out of the country so I can now tell my story to everyone.

I don't ask for people to give up their lives to help Darfur. No, instead we must all do something little. If many small voices come together, they create a large voice, that can be heard by all. I also ask for people to become educated. Try to learn as much from other people's mistakes as you can, so that you don't commit the same error as them.