The Refugee

🔖 This is a compelling story about my experience in my country’s civil war. Each time I revisit that time capsule, it brings back my memory of the events that took place during the war. It was the most miserable moment of my life when my city was overrun by the invading soldiers.In view of this, my family had to evacuate my city to a neighboring town about thirty miles away. My father did not stay to welcome the invading soldiers because he sat high in the socio-economic standard in the rebel area. My father left his city on the advice of his governor and the military leaders in his city; he was compelled to desert his subjects to other towns. We stayed in this other town for about three months when it was besieged by the invading army, and we had to evacuate this town again for another town almost forty miles away from my original town. Our refugee journey had begun, and the epic journey continued as we traveled to more than four towns. My father became the father of more than two hundred refugees who depended on him for survival. Fortunately, the governor—or the administrator, as he was called then—was always very close to my father to assist him in all he needed to house and feed the refugees that followed along with him. There was mass starvation and severe malnutrition in the refugee camps that made my father very weary of the situation. My father became very emaciated and became very sick. Unfortunately, he succumbed to the heart attack that fell on him; he died and was buried unceremoniously in the village that was not his. His death looked like the end of the refugees, but my uncle had to continue to bear the cross of all the refugees until the war ended after three years of refugee life. You don’t know the evils of war until you are a refugee.