I remember that every couple of days a group of men dressed in green spotted suites would come by the neighborhood after I had taken my breakfast in the morning. I would ask my momma: “who were those people and what were they doing around the place”. My momma would respond to me: “they are just men taking care of our poor neighborhood”. I perceived that wasn’t true because my momma couldn’t stop looking strangely at them and she constantly reminded me when I went to pick up water that I should keep myself away from those people. I did as momma told me but I was curious to know the truth though I couldn’t just go there and ask those men what they were doing here.
On a Thursday afternoon, I was collecting water in the Turkwel River near my house in the outsides of Lodwar, Kenya. I saw the pack of men arrive near a house that was three houses away from mine. I was curious to know what they were doing here at this time of the day because they usually came in the morning. I decided to stay where I was and see what would happen, until suddenly one of the men abruptly took two children out of the house and locked them in a huge truck which had the same pattern as their clothing and was located behind a leafless tree. Overwhelmed of the scene I had saw, I ran nervously to the house, but before I could get there, I felt someone pulling my arm so hard it hurt and it felt like they had dislocated my clavicle. I was so afraid I couldn’t even scream for help. Suddenly, I noticed I had been locked in a smelly used truck where the other boys had been locked up too. I became more fearful because I didn’t know if I would ever see my momma again and because I didn’t know where the cruel men were taking us. The youngest kid in the truck cried himself to sleep while the other one took care of him. I, in the other hand, couldn’t go to sleep because I was afraid something would happen to us and I wouldn’t notice because I fell asleep. Besides staying vigilantly awake, the rocky road made me uncomfortable to be able to go to sleep.
After hours of driving and no sleep we stopped in a place full of tents and loud noises. The loud noises made the place scarier and I wondered what caused those terrible sounds. I felt kind of relief when I saw more children besides the three of us locked in the truck, but I asked myself: “what were so many young children doing here?” I followed the guy who had almost pulled my arm off my body. We were forced to establish in a smelly, old, dirty tent were twelve other kids were already established. Then, the man handed us two identical changes of clothes: dark green suites, 2 pairs of black socks, and a pair of black shoes. I wore the suite and set off to dine with the other kids with whom I shared the tent. We ate smashed potato, which tasted more like salt to me. It was time to go to bed but I obviously couldn’t fall asleep because the same fear with which I had arrived lasted all night.
The next day, we woke up at the same time I normally wake up: 5:30. My roommates and I walked to a huge field. There they showed us how to use huge guns. It was hard to learn how to fire because my weak arms would slide up. We worked on firing different types of guns all day and past my regular bed time. So tired I slowly ate my salty smashed potato and headed to my tent. A man passed near my tent and I quickly asked before he left why we were learning how to handle guns and a young age. He responded me in a monotonous tone that we were being trained for the African army in Kenya and that I should go to sleep because tomorrow would be even tougher. Concerned about his response, I went to bed and my mind couldn’t stop repeating the man´s words. I tried to sleep, but once again I couldn’t.
The monotonous voiced man was right. The next day was even tougher. They were testing our physical condition. We ran up and down, jumped through old tires, climbed ropes, lift extremely heavy weights, and crawled in the muddy ground. The physical condition practice took longer than yesterday´s practice with the guns. My body was sore of so much exercising. I was exhausted and extremely hungry. I devoured my smashed potatoes and went to bed with my dirty clothes. I immediately fell asleep.
The next four weeks were the same as the two days before. We were practicing firings guns Mondays, Wednesday, and Fridays and on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays we were testing our physical condition. On Sundays we usually cleaned our clothes and tents or if it was necessary we practice a few hours on what was needed the most.
Starting the fifth week, our “coaches” as they liked to be called, combined our gun practice with the physical condition practice by making us fire guns in motion. It was not easy to carry a gun while running around the field trying to hit targets. Most of the kids including myself couldn’t hit as many targets as were supposed to hit. For that reason, we were forced to practice a few hours on Sunday and the following week.
It was time to go to sleep and I wasn’t that sleepy as the others days, though I needed some rest because I was awfully exhausted. I first said good night to my three best friends in the campsite. They were Kalu who was two years older than me and the boy whom I traveled with, Emmanuel who was a year younger than me and Kalu´s brother, and Taye who was eight years old like me. Then, I started to realize how my body was growing. I possessed larger arms with muscles and popped out veins. I was developing a body similar to the men who trained me every day. I had little muscles that were starting to pop out of my abdomen. I looked like a “big young man” as my momma would tell me every time I was turning a year older. As I was remembering my momma, I started to cry. I was missing her horribly. I couldn’t stop thinking about her dark eyes, her dry hands that caressed me to sleep, and her long lips that would kiss me right before going to bed. I started to cry like I have never cried before until I finally fell asleep.
My life in the campsite is exhausting in the day because the exercises are non-stop and it is depressing at night because I start to miss my mother. Sundays is the most pleasant day of the week, if we don’t have practice because I would clean the tent with my friends and help each other around. We would joke among ourselves. Sundays are great days to forget about the pain and bring back the happy days we used to have in our homes.
My life has changed a lot in the campsite because I am now used to the hard work of every day. I´ve become more independent. I am extremely strong and my physical condition is abnormally powerful for a fourteen year old. During the last six years I have been in the campsite I´m thankful for the different things I´ve learn like being able to defend myself in any situation. I now understand why they kidnapped me. My country needs help and I´m glad I´m able to help it but I believe they captured me in a very early stage of childhood and therefore I am deeply sad I didn’t have a normal childhood. Fortunately, my hard work has been rewarded. I am able to visit my mother frequently when it is necessary. I still keep thinking about my mom at night but luckily I am able to see her. Also, I am thankful for friends who support me in the hard times and for having my back in the dangerous ones. Therefore I am willing to serve for my country because I am now a soldier of the African Army; I am now soldier Thwala, Somen Thwala.
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