Confession

My name is Thien Oo; my family sold me to the city. My father had to owe a lot of money to some people in the city, and we were too poor to pay it off. So my father and mother sent me away to work in the city in till I pay off my father’s debt. They told me I would be working for a lady... when I got to the city I was pulled into a dark, hidden house next to an alley. The city was very smoggy and nothing like the country town I use to live in. when I stepped into the house there were a lot of girls dressed in pretty sparkly dresses, with extravagant make up, they were all around my age. An older lady walked up to me and grabbed my arm and took me into a cold dark office-I found out later that it was her office. Her name was Lady Shiloh. Her skin was sweet and beautiful; she looked like she was in her mid thirties. She asked for my name and my age, I said "Thien Oo, fifteen". She made me stand up and take off my clothes. She stared at me for a while, examining every aspect of my body, then she grabbed my arm again and said "Good". Then she gave me a new beautiful dress, a pair off shoes and a bag of makeup. She said, "Your mine now, so don't try to run away or I’ll kill you". She said I start tomorrow, and she said I would be a good worker because I'm young and clean. She walked me into an empty room with two beds. She said I out to get to know the girls, "they'll teach you something".

My roommates name is Ama and she's sixteen. She told me to be careful, "there's a lot of bastards that will hurt you". After that she stopped talking to me. I didn't know what I would be doing for work, but Ama said I should be careful. I woke up early the next day anxious to what I will be doing while I'm in the city. I missed my family, but I knew they were right for sending me to work. Once all the girls woke up they began to put their make up on and dress up in their dresses. Ama said she would do my make up for my first day of work. Once Ama finished I looked like an Indian Barbie. I wasn't me, I'm Indian but I'm not a Barbie. Once all the girls looked finished, Lady Shiloh came down the stairs and looked at all of us. She made sure that we looked "Good". Once Lady Shiloh came up to me, she took my hands and whispered something so soft the wind couldn't hear it.  She didn't repeat herself, but she did say once she's done checking all the girls she would like me to go to her office. When Lady Shiloh came inside her office she looked like she was ready to have a serious talk. She looked at me and began her serious talk...

"Your goings to wait in till I or one of my advisors brings you a customer. Treat him with respect and do whatever he asks of you. Don't ever bring someone my advisors or I haven't met into your room. If he gives you money you will have to turn it to me. If I ever find out that you are hiding money from me I will raise your fathers debt and you will have to suffer the consequences. Every month a physician will come and give you shots so you can stay clean. Now do you understand?"

I didn't understand at all. But I was to scared to tell her I didn't. Then she sent me out with the other girls. Once the day turned dark, and night arose, we all gathered by the wall and waited. Men came up to some girls and the advisors took both of them into the house. I wasn't approached by anyone my first night, but Ama was.  I wanted to know what happened in the rooms the advisors sent men and girls in. She told me that they do whatever they ask of, and we aren't allowed to ask them anything.  She told me that I didn't have anyone come to me because Lady Shiloh is saving me for later. Ama says I'm the only real clean girl in the house. On the second night Lady Shiloh said there was someone waiting for me, and I better look beautiful. There was this very dark skinned city man sitting next to Shiloh when I came into her office. She told him I was worth 100 rupees, and he handed her the roll of money. We started waling into a room upstairs, before I went in Shiloh grabbed me in a corner and told me " you better not screw up and listen to what he wants". Then I was left lone with the dark skinned man a bed and my Indian Barbie look. He sat on the bed and told me to undress, I thought about refusing but I should "listen to what he wants". He grabbed my breasts and threw me on the bed. He was on top of me and all I could hear wear sobbing tears, and moans. It took me a while to find out I was the one making the sobbing noses. He seemed to not care, then he pushed himself into me and I cried. I don’t think he listened to my tears; he didn’t stop when I started crying.

1234567: freedom

compressed with distress

striving towards a better future

learning that my strive will continue

im exhausted. Im neglecting my strive.

i cant hold the light of my soul any longer.

some one ought to care, someone might know.

for the first time in my twelve years of living i cried.

i couldn't cry when i saw death.

i wouldn't ever cry for the long walks i had taken for safety.

i should've cried when my family was taken away.

but now i cry, i wish i had someone.

someone who cares, someone who knows.

someone that wants to help. 

all i ask for is for freedom.

how hard is it to give me a seven letter word?

i bet not hard enough to take it way.

  

Killed Innocence

"Then some children were brought to Him so that He might lay His hands on them and pray; and the disciples rebuked them.

But Jesus said, 'Let [leave] the children alone, and do not hider them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.' After laying His hands on them, He departed from there."

Matthew 19:13

If children belong to the " kingdom of heaven", then what about the young children who are robbed of their virtue, the children who are forced to kill other children, the children who are drugged to kill innocence, Do they still belong to the "kingdom of heaven"? 

Please visit to learn more about the abuse of child soldiers

http://www.child-soldiers.org/home

Please visit to watch a video called Children in the Ranks

http://hrw.org/campaigns/crp/child_soldiers/index.htm

Thank You.

My plea.

Dear Darfur,

I just want to give up! It’s hard feeding a family of three when you’re all alone! I need help, I need people to know that I'm out here, dying! I can’t help myself, I'm too weak, starvation and violence stole my chances. Why cant i just give up on my sons and me? Why wont you let me? I'm a good person! I don't deserve this humiliation! I don't deserve ferocity, hunger, intimidation, and discrimination! I don't deserve any of that! Forget me let me rot.  You probably won't remember me, so why let me suffer? I can’t stand this heat of emotion. I’m alone! No one seems to care. I’m alone. I’m alone. I’m alone. Please make my anguish go away, it hurts more then ever! I've seen traumatic events in my life and I don’t want to see them again! It kills me every-time to feel more pain. My children don't have a home, they don't have food, they don't have an education, they don't have safety, and they don't have a mother. I want the best for them! They love me; don't take me away from my children. I just want you to understand my genocide. My Darfur. My endless hope. My children. My suffering. My cry for help. My faith. My angst. My plea. 

The lives of friends and family members that are taken away cant just reappear again, but the rights of many people can. I’m not asking for your sympathy we already have plenty of grief. But what I am asking for is some hope. We can make the impossible possible if we have faith, and if we advocate to others so they can have hope. Advocating for other peoples rights is the most efficient way of helping. The more people who are educated about peoples rights the bigger the change.  If you would like to learn more you can visit:

www.savedrafur.org

Or

www.stopgenocidenow.org

Apprehended Anxiety

~

Protected by the susceptible wind.

Converged with hunger.

Felt by many.

Longing for the key of endurance. 

Towering vigorously through traumatized dreams.

A disappointment.

Bones shattered.

Thoughts being agonized by screeches of skeletal acceptance.

Succinct, directly to the meaning of triviality.

Worthless.

The creed of radical modus operandi. 

method.

They conquer independence. 

They torture faith. 

They kill potential.

~

Our Nightmare

Sudan is led by Omar Al-Bashir who is one of the cruelest and most dangerous dictators in modern Africa. Al-Bashir encouraged the Janjaweed, a non-government militia, to hunt and destroy ethnic African Darfurians claiming that the citizens were protecting the rebels. The Janjaweed have been accused of hideous abuses including gang rape, burning civilians alive, and throwing babies in boiling water. The Sudanese government has violated the Universal Declaration of Human Rights because they have killed and tortured civilians instead of protecting them, destroyed their villages, raped the women and caused many to flee. They also raid villages, burn homes, destroy crops, and poison the wells. Survivors from the attacks are unable to return home because they can no longer live in their villages. As villages are destroyed families frequently with only woman and children surviving, flee their villages and walk many miles across the desert in search of safety. 

Fulfillment

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…

We contain an emptiness that needs fulfillment. Loneliness is our only companion at times. Happiness is considered imagination to some. Imagination is our fulfillment.

Gone

The rush of a tear 

A baby in the corner.

Our village has adrenaline.

The baby wont stop crying.

Rebels corner me and my adrenaline.

Our village is gone.

The baby stops crying; he starts laughing.

Im scared. Im crying. Im yelling. Im tortured. Im trapped.

The baby is silent now. 

My disturbance is taken way.

My disturbance.

The baby is in my thoughts.

Im still scared.

Im still taken way by the rush of a tear.

   Genocide Statistics in Darfur

Death toll: up to 400,000 people since Feb.

Death Rate: 500 people die each day!! 15,000 a month

Displaced (forced to leave home): 2.5 million

Damaged

Children are easily manipulated and can easily turn into soldiers. They are too young to understand or resist the violence. Many are abducted or recruited by force, and often compelled to follow orders under threat of death. Some are taken by the rebels and beaten until they have agreed to join the army. Others join armed groups out of desperation for survival. Many become child soldiers because they are poor, separated from their families, alone, displaced from their homes, and have limited access to education. Also, many join because of economic or social pressure; children believe that the armed groups would offer food and security. Others join military force's to avenge family members who have been killed by the other armed force. 

Children who survive often suffer from trauma, injury, abuse, and psychological scarring form the violence and brutality they experienced. Many of the former child soldiers are unable to adjust to their civilian life. Some even choose to go back to the armed forces because they are used to caring a gun; they have been soldiers through out their whole lives. Many lose the opportunity to acquire an education, job skills, or any hope for the future. Some are even rejected by their families and communities.

The threat of disgrace

manipulated their families.

The violence and brutality commits

access to trauma.

Psychological scarring is injury to the combat 

between a civilian and a soldier.

Resist. Resist. Resist.

Beaten by suicide abuse.

Forced survival is unable to ensure limited access to a life of a child.

It would make me stronger...

Short story by Rachel.
I was 14, when the rebels attacked my family. They shot my mother. They forced my two younger brothers and myself to line up next to the house. They stared at us for a couple of minutes then they separated me from my brothers. They gave me a gun and told me I had to kill my brothers. They said it would make me stronger. They wanted me to be a good soldier. I resisted for a while, but every time I said no and cried they hit me with the back of their gun. They told me that if I don’t kill my brothers they would kill them and myself. I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. I’m 16 now, and I still have nightmares of that day, and my brothers. I could remember their tears and screams. Sometimes I wish I could die so I could go to heaven with my two brothers.

Resistance

"One boy tried to escape [from the rebels], but he was caught... His hands were tied, and then they made us, the other new captives, kill him with a stick. I felt sick. I knew this boy from before.We were from the same village. I refused to kill him and they told me they would shoot me. They pointed a gun at me, so I had to do it. The boy was asking me, "Why are you doing this?" I said I had no choice. After we killed him, they made us smear his blood on our arms... They said we had to do this so we would not fear death and so we would not try to escape. . . I still dream about the boy from my village who I killed. I see him in my dreams, and he is talking to me and saying I killed him for nothing, and I am crying."

-Susan, 16, abducted by the Lords Resistance Army in Uganda

The death of fear tried to escape.
The smear of choice is killed.

My Passion.

"All human beings, whatever their cultural or historical background, suffer when they are intimidated, imprisoned or tortured . . . We must, therefore, insist on a global consensus, not only on the need to respect human rights worldwide, but also on the definition of these rights . . . for it is the inherent nature of all human beings to yearn for freedom, equality and dignity, and they have an equal right to achieve that." -The Dalai Lama

NO FREEDOM.
It imprisons our dignity.
It kills our equality.

I’m screaming for my rights, their rights, his rights....

I met him over the winter break. He's very young. He never met me, but I met him. I saw him on a video, Invisible Children, he use to live in Uganda, now he lives in heaven. He died from starvation. He reminded me of my four year old brother, he had a huge smile, and his attitude was like New Years Eve, ready for a new beginning. He took my breath away, my tears, my heart, and my passion.

I fight to save him and all the other kids, women, and men who lost their rights.