I was sitting at home with my mother one Friday morning when my phone rang. “Blandine, can you come over? I want to talk to you,” said the voice on the other end of the line. It was my friend Sarah. I was finished with my chores and my mother gave me permission to go. Sarah lives in Kashojwa, near Best Future School. We live in different areas of Nakivale Refugee Settlement in Uganda. As I made my way down the path I met my father. I told him I was going to visit Sarah and he gave me two thousand Ugandan shillings to take the boda-boda. When I reached Sarah’s house, I found her mother washing clothes. She was wearing a black dress. When I arrived, I knocked on the door and tried to greet her, but she ignored me. Instead, she asked me, “What do you want?” without looking in my direction. I told her, “I’m here to see my Sarah.” “Your friend Sarah is my daughter?” she asked. I said yes. Instead of going to get Sarah, she told me, “I do not want to see you with my daughter.” When I asked her why, she simply said, “because your family is poor.” After hearing her words, I called Sarah. She was around the corner, dressed in a black skirt and red t-shirt. When I told her what her mother said, Sarah told me, “I know you respect elders. But my mother is sad now and does not think much.” I said, “Sarah, when a person says things that she has never talked about, she is only looking for a way so that she may talk. Let us do what your mother said. She does not want to see us together because I am from a poor family. Let us leave our friendship because we need to do what your mother wants. Let us not force it.” Sarah and I agreed to respect her mother’s wish to not see us together. But I went home unhappy because of the words the woman said to me. I felt sad that she called me poor. I went home wondering how some parents can ignore the children who come from poor families; especially here in Nakivale Refugee Camp where so many of us have so little. The following day I went to school. I wanted to play with other students but they kept getting away from me. It seemed they felt the same way as Sarah’s mother. They had made their mind up and did not want to be my friend. All because I was from a poor family, It was a cause of physical pain for me to find I was being ignored, unwanted. I found street boys trying to disturb me because they knew my family was poor and in need of money. I had problems with my vision and my parents did not have money for my treatment. I could not read or write on the blackboard and my classmates used to tell me that I was disturbing them by asking them for books so that I could copy them. I decided to talk to my mother. After a day filled with mopping, washing, cooking, taking care of my younger brother and visiting my older brother in the hospital, I found my mother and said to her, “mother, do you have time?” “No problem , my daughter. I am free to talk, do not fear anything.” “Mother, you know I’m a girl and I need many things, but without advice I will not know what to do.” I told my mother about what Sarah’s mother said and the pain I was suffering at school. “My daughter, I know how you are feeling because those words are painful, but you need to move on with your life. You should just ignore those children and not listen to them any longer.” “I am your daughter and I know your advice will help me, but some rich parents do not want to see their children with poor children like me.” “My daughter, as your mother, I would like to tell you this: respect them. Keep that respect for them and do not stop showing them respect even if they call you bad words, like poor.” “Mother, to keep respecting people who do not want me is not easy. I feel unloved when I sit with other youths because I know they will laugh at me.” “My daughter, they will not stop laughing at you even if you go far from them. You must find the way within yourself, to stop feeling unloved and put confidence in yourself. And then let them laugh. They have decided to laugh at you. But me, as your mother, I know one day they will stop laughing at you because of your success, and because you work hard. Do not listen to their words.” I try everyday to live by my mother’s words. This story was peer reviewed by: Sophia Kaushik
Interview with Akili
Thank you for sharing this powerful story with us. Could you tell us about what inspired you to write it? When I came to this program, it was not how I am now. I have made a step, and my story is all about the journey I took. I wanted to write about the journey I took because I moved from one place to another and migrated from the village to town using an airplane. When we took a journey from DRC to Uganda, Kampala, there was a difference we saw, from where we were before and where we went. There were good roads and flat houses. My story is true, and some of it is fictionalized. What messages do you hope your readers will take away from your story? I hope my readers will take away from my story not to make bad friends who show you a bad path to follow because the influence of bad friends may lead you to get in trouble or spoil your future. My story lets people know that due to the influence of bad friends, my brother Nelson started smoking and taking alcohol. I want to show readers that you have to make good friends to show you the right path to follow. What is the point of storytelling to you? Why do we tell stories, what do they do for us, and what purpose do they serve? We tell stories to reduce stress, to train ourselves and create confidence and connections. You also can tell stories to build a living career through selling them, and lastly, to be famous. As for me, the main reason why I tell stories is because I want people to remember me when I’m gone but also to share my life with those who have never even met me. Did your story change over the course of your participation in the storytelling workshops? How? My story changed throughout the workshops that made me quick and sharp when thinking of creative writing and new ideas. With the help of our workshop facilitators, I managed to maintain the meaning and core of my story, while enhancing the clarity of my storytelling. I am happy with the final result. How does your story offer an alternative path, point of view, or way forward? How does it speak to the possibility of an otherwise? My story tells about the journey I took and it offers an alternative path on how to live with others and how to avoid bad groups. With the few years of age that I have, I managed to live different lifestyles and with that I think I am now able to avoid people who are not bringing any positive contribution in my life.
Walking Away, by Akili Nestor Olengo
My siblings and I were sitting in our home discussing how you can talk to your parents to make them trust you more. My sister Maria said, “Our parents think that we wouldn’t have the strength to walk away from a bad situation. We have tried telling them that we have already walked away from bad situations, but that is not good enough for them.” My elder sister Jeanne argued that the issue of trust can be a source of considerable tension between youth and parents. My younger brother Christopher, my elder brother Nelson, and I all agreed. In the middle of our discussion, our parents came back from the market. They bought me shoes, and I was happy because I did not have shoes for going to church. Jeanne said, “Today, I will prepare a good meal. You will enjoy it.” Nelson said let us wait for what you shall prepare for us. After a brief time, Jeanne brought beans and rice to the table for our evening meal. As we ate, our father said to Nelson and me, “We shall not be with you for a while. Make sure you take care of yourselves.” “Where are you going to be?” Nelson asked. My father answered, “We are going to Kampala, Uganda to see whether we can get a job, and move away from this miserable life of eating green vegetables.” Nelson agreed, saying, “I hope when you will reach there, everything will be okay. And you know how much we love you. We cannot spend even twenty-four hours without seeing you. How long are you going to stay there?” “We shall be away for only one week,” my father answered. My brother Nelson said, “I wish you a wonderful journey.” * When my parents started their journey from DRC to Kampala they were very happy about the city. My father made a friend called John and asked him how he might get a job. John answered, “You have a chance. My boss is looking for another person who will replace me.” My father asked, “To replace you? What have you done?” “Nothing wrong. I need to see my children in Ghana,” John answered, “one of my children is very sick from malaria.” John said that he was leaving the next morning, and he told my father, “let us go and see my boss now.” * After his first month of work, my father sent some money to us. My elder brother Nelson told our father on the phone, “First, one week passed, and now it has been one month. When will you come back?” My father and mother wanted to remain there due to the beauty of the city. So my father answered, “We shall send you money for transport. Meet us in Kampala.” After one week, our parents sent the money and we took the journey to Kampala. We loved the city so much. There were many kinds of foods like matooke and cassava and a lovely, mild climate too. My brother Nelson made many friends as we adjusted to our new home. He started smoking and drinking alcohol with a new crowd of friends. After some weeks of this behavior, my parents called a family meeting. My father began, “Our children, we trust you. Your friends, we don’t. We are afraid of the problems they’ll bring into your life. Look for a good friend who will advise you to follow a good path. A friend that can help you in your future life.” “We love you,” my mother continued, “We do not hate you. From today, we don’t want to see these kinds of friends anymore.” * Early one morning, my parents woke us up and told us to pack everything. Nelson asked where we were going and my parents answered that we were soon going to Nakivale, a refugee resettlement in the southwest of Uganda. I was very annoyed with this information. What I did not know at the time was that my parents did not have good jobs or enough money to stay in Kampala. Once again, we were forced to take a journey. I wondered how I could make good friends in the Nakivale refugee settlement. I thought, if I am angry, I will need someone to vent to. If I am sad, I want someone to tell me it is going to get better. I didn’t want to leave my friends and have to adapt to a new environment once again. I had my family, but I would be alone without friends. * I still live in Nakivale with my family. For now, I am happy to have my best friend called Charles. He comes from a poor family of beggars and he is very humble and clever. I don’t feel okay when I don’t have friends, because friends help me with ideas and advice and cheer me up when I’m sad. Life made me leave many friends in many different places throughout my journey. But I am here now, and I love my family so much and I am happy to have a supportive friend that guides and sustains me. This story was peer reviewed by: Sabrina Lu
