Our History - The Long War How We Became Lost Boys

Long Walk

Religious persecution and marginalization continues to be a large problem in Sudan. Sudan is a diverse country with a large Muslim population in the north and Christian and Animist in the south. The persecution is not only against the Christians but also against the African Muslims in the northern Darfur area.

Because of the war, over two million people have been killed and four million either internally displaced or have become refugees, seeking asylum in other countries. Because of the bombing and burning of the south, there is little infrastructure in place for the redeveloping of the south. There are limited schools, clinics, clean water, roads, transportation, etc. Like the rest of the south, the people of Duk Padiet have fled to displacement camps within the country or have sought safety in refugee camps, many in UNHCR camp in Kakuma, Kenya. When the north aggressively began to bomb and burn the villages, and sent the army by land, that was the time when parents were separated from their sons and daughters, husbands from wives, and friends from each other too!

How We Became Lost Boys

In 1987, we fled from our homes in Duk Padiet when the Northern government army attacked our village. The normal custom is for young boys, ages six to seven, to leave the village and take the calves and goats to pastures to graze.  When an emergency happens, there is no way to find where these boys have taken the animals to feed. We loved our homes in Duk Padiet of Southern Sudan. When we left our country, we thought that we would be back later, but no. We left our homes because of imminent persecution. The first step we took was beginning of a thousand mile journey. We young boys were like the blind that follow a sound and flow like a water current until it hits a wall of the riverbank or ocean. When we left our village, that was the last day and year that we were to see our parents, homes and friends. Being away from our homes in the bush and the protection of our family, we faced a lot of problems. We were attacked by wild animals, bitten by mosquitoes, and often badgered by hunger and dehydration. Our feet were so cracked, we had to tie them with torn clothes or animal skins.

We were young boys of seven and above. We didn't know where to go so we wandered for a while. Eventually, with the help of older boys, and a few elders, we started our long, dangerous walk to Ethiopia.  There were no non-governmental organizations (NGOs) present yet and the government couldn't feed us all because we were so many. We lost a lot of friends from hunger and disease due to the lack of food and medicine.  It took the United Nations High Commissioner of Relief (UNHCR) many months to come to our rescue.  Before the UN arrived, we sold anything we had for food. When we had nothing to sell, we went to the forest to cut grasses to use for making soup. We used sharp stones and the dry bark of trees to cut the grass. We lived that way until the UN came.

We spent four years in Ethiopia. This is where we started school. War followed us to Ethiopia as well. When the war the broke out in Ethiopia, the Ethiopian government was overthrown by the opposition. This opposition was supportive of the northern government of Sudan. This became another critical time for our survival. Orders were given to the army to drive us out of Ethiopia. We didn't know where to go so we ran toward Sudan. However, there is a large river that divides Sudan from Ethiopia, the Gilo River. It was the rainy season and the river was flooded and heavy with current. There was no way to cross safely. Fortunately for some, the natives of that area saw our problem and gave many of us rides across in their canoes. But before we all could cross, the enemy army attacked those who were still on the Ethiopian border. Those boys had to jump in the river and try to swim through the crocodiles, hoping not to be shot by the soldiers or to drown. Many, many boys were lost that day as the river ran red with blood.

We left Ethiopia and headed to Pachala in Sudan.  Pachala was under the Sudanese Peoples Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A) at that time. Because we left Ethiopia in such a hurry, we didn't bring enough food with us. We spent that first month with little food. As we faced starvation, we foraged in the forest for leaves and fruit. We lived like that until the Red Cross found us. We stayed only shortly in Pachala because the northern army began to attack the town.

Again we were walking. We walked for many days until we reach Niaros, which is close to Kenya. We spent two months there until the enemy captured a town that was close to Niarose. So again, we had to flee. Again, we had to quickly pack our bags and leave for Lokichiko, Kenya.

It was 1992. As we entered Kenya, because we were children without patents, we were known as unaccompanied minors. The UNHCR and some elders in the community decided to relocate us to the refugee camp of Kakuma in Kenya. It was here that we unaccompanied minors became known as the Lost Boys.  We lived by ourselves in groups, separate from the other family groups. We were each other's family members.

We Lost Boys who eventually immigrated to the United States, Canada and Australia lived in the camp for nine years. Our experience in Kakuma was varied. When we first arrived, life was good. We used to get healthy foods including fish, milk, vegetables and grains. Schools and homes were being built. But in 1994, the Kenyan government took control of everything. The UN office was under their authority, or let me say that all refugees' lives were under their authority. Then everything began to slip away from us. First, they built a fence to control the rationing of food. Secondly, they called for a head count where everybody needed to be present at the fence to get a ration card. Thirdly, they replaced the workers with people who supported with the Kenyan's management of the camp. There was a drastic reduction in refugee services. The refugees were voiceless. And they were suffering again, while waiting for peace in Sudan and the hope of returning home.

The Black Days

When ration cards were given, the amount of food allotted began to decrease. We were given 3 kilo of grain each that was to last for fifteen days. But that is too little food to last for fifteen days. By the 10-12th day the food would be gone. A darkness would settle across the whole camp because everyone was waking up hungry, knowing there were still days until food would be given again. We were only given corn with a little oil. That was it! No meat or milk for protein, no fruit, and few vegetables. Occasionally, we were given potatoes and wheat flour. Few clothes were handed out. There was almost no medicines or treatments from doctors. The world thought that we refugees were in a safe place, being provided for with what we needed for survival and healthy living. But that was far from true. We remembered out homes in Sudan, but could not go home. There was no peace in Sudan yet.