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Face
to Face with Modern African History: Former Child Soldier Ishmael
Beah Visits Upper School
by Jeffrey Stanley
Author Ishmael Beah spoke to the Upper School on March 11 about
his book, A Long Way Gone, Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, an
account or his experiences as a child soldier in Sierra Leone in
the 1990’s. Child soldiers are a human rights issue in many
conflicts in the world, but the Sierra Leone civil war in the 1990’s
drew particular international attention due to the warring factions’ widespread
and systematic transformation of kids into killers, perpetuating
the war for years.
Students in Ed Herzman’s Modern African History class had
read Ishmael’s memoir and an invitation was extended to the
New York-based author and lecturer. After speaking to the Upper School
student body, reading from his book and answering questions, he stayed
afterwards to chat with the Modern African History students.
Ishmael was born in 1980 and grew up with his family in a relatively
normal and stable community. “At the age of 12 a change happened,” he
told the enrapt Upper School students. He described a program of “forced
indoctrination” in which rebel factions brainwashed some kids,
making the rebel group their new and itinerant family. “Usually,
child soldiers become homeless because other soldiers have destroyed
their villages and/or killed their families,” explained Ed
Herzman after the lecture. “They are often drawn into war because
they have no other place to go and they desire revenge against those
who’ve put them in this situation.”
Ishmael’s own parents and siblings were indeed killed by
militants and he was drafted into a rebel group for whom he fought
for two years. He was eventually rescued by UNICEF workers and placed
in a rehabilitation center in Freetown for eight months, he explained,
after an uncle who could care for him was found. In 1996 Ishmael
and some other former child soldiers were chosen to come to the United
States to speak of their experiences. It was on this initial trip
that Ishmael met Laura Simms, who later adopted him and became his
American mother. He returned to the States to live here permanently
in 1998, attending the United Nations International School (UNIS)
and graduating with a degree in political science from Oberlin College.
Among his first frustrations as a high school and then college
student in the United States was how little Americans seemed to know
about the Sierra Leone conflict. “The war had been going on
for seven years. And when it did start to emerge in the media here,
there was a sense that it was finished, that it had always been violent.
I wanted to show that there was hope, that recovery was possible,” he
said. “In my book I wanted to created that necessary human
connection.”
He told the students that he hoped his book kept alive in people’s
minds that child soldiers are still being used in the world and that
they are not beyond help. “There’s a sense that they
are finished. I want to show that the human spirit is wonderful
and that recovery is possible.” He credited UNICEF workers
for their patience and relentlessness in helping him and his cohorts
return to some semblance of healing and normality after their experiences
as drug-addicted, heavily manipulated killers. Many would have written
these young men off as “finished,” beyond recovery and
suitable only for a life behind bars, Ishmael explained, but that’s
not always the case.
Ishmael Beah is a charismatic speaker and his story, grim as it
was, contained moments of humor and hope. He reminded students that
the transition to Western life was in some ways less difficult than
they might imagine. “We had been a British colony and I grew
up reading Shakespeare,” he said. “The educational system
in Sierra Leone was very strong. I also grew up listening to hip-hop, “back
in the ‘80s when it was still good,” he said. “From
hip-hop I learned words like clandestine and soliloquy.” He
also talked about stepping off the plane in New York and seeing snow
for the first time. “I knew the word snow from Shakespeare
and Christmas films. I thought, maybe it’s Christmas all the
time here.”
During the Q&A students peppered him with questions. Ishmael
stayed late to continue answering them. “I’m always eager
to talk to young people because they’re so much more sincere
and they don’t sugar coat questions,” he said. “I
like that.”
“What was the worst place you had to hide?” asked one
student.
“Actually the worst place was in Guinea, next door to Sierra
Leone. When you’re a refugee in a country that doesn’t
want you, you ask for something in English and they raise the price,” he
said. “Also you have a fear that the police will arrest you
and send you to the refugee camps where nobody wanted to be at all.”
“Can you explain the conflict?” asked another student.
“I didn’t start because of diamonds,” he explained,
contradicting the popular conception of the conflict. “It started
because of political corruption. The RUF started the war but then
began attacking civilians, doing the same thing as the government.
Different factions started springing up. Then the violence became
a way of life. If someone has a gun and you don’t, they can
take your food.”
“What did you think of the movie Blood Diamond?”
“I liked it but I have an issue with it. In the end the father
finds his son and shakes him a few times and says, ‘You’re
good, you’re my son!’ and then the kid is fine. It creates
this perception that all you have to do is shake a child soldier
and tell him you love him and he’ll be cured, and that if he’s
not cured then he’s finished. If someone had tried that on
me and then given up when it didn’t work I wouldn’t be
standing here right now.”
He said he hoped with his book to instill in the students a desire
to learn more about the world. “We don’t need to wait
for a conflict to happen in order to learn about that place. If we
learn about them before that then maybe we can mitigate the conflicts,” he
said. He placed much of the onus for change on academia. “At
Oberlin we didn’t have to wait until 9/11 to learn about Middle
Eastern culture,” he said as an example.
He left the students with a parting thought on war, a twist on
the truism that in order to turn soldiers into killers one must teach
them to dehumanize the enemy. “In war,” he said, “You
don’t dehumanize the enemy. You must dehumanize yourself.” |