By Osman age 9
I live in a refugee camp in Chad now. I met new people. Some of them are nice and some are not nice at all. Heres my journey...
I had to leave my village because my grandma told me the evil men on horse back are going to raid us in a couple of weeks. My grandma and me had to walk through many burned unknown villages. We passed through other families who we’re walking the same direction. I met a kid around my age. His name was Muhammad he was 11. He told me that his family is searching for a new home because in his old village the Janjaweed burned huts, wells, and people. He was lucky to have escaped with his family. Muhammad is very loud and free minded. He protects his family. My grandma, Muhammad, his family and me have been walking for weeks to find help. We traveled through heated sand storms, abundant villages, silence, and bone fragments. One day when we were crossing a lonely village Muhammad decided to look around to find water or food. He stepped into am empty hut with anticipation, when he came out he stepped into sand of misery. He didn’t tell me what was inside but I had a feeling of what it might have been. Grandma and Muhammad’s family were resting under a tree and Muhammad left my site when he came out of the hut. I was alone with curiosity. I knew what was inside but I had to see it with my own eyes…
No comments:
Post a Comment