Later on, when Junior went to secondary school, he befriended some boys who taught him more about foreign music and dance. During holidays, he brought me cassettes and taught my friends and me how to dance to what we came to know as hip-hop. I loved the dance, and particularly enjoyed learning the lyrics, because they were poetic and it improved my vocabulary. One afternoon, Father came home while Junior, Mohamed, Talloi, and I were learning the verse of “I Know You Got Soul” by Eric B. & Rakim. He stood by the door of our clay brick and tin roof house laughing and then asked, “Can you even understand what you are saying?” He left before Junior could answer. He sat in a hammock under the shade of the mango, guava, and orange trees and tuned his radio to the BBC news.
“Now, this is good English, the kind that you should be listening to,” he shouted from the yard.
While Father listened to the news, Junior taught us how to move our feet to the beat. We alternately moved our right and then our left feet to the front and back, and simultaneously did the same with our arms, shaking our upper bodies and heads. “This move is called the running man,” Junior said. Afterward, we would practice miming the rap songs we had memorized. Before we parted to carry out our various evening chores of fetching water and cleaning lamps, we would say “Peace, son” or “I’m out,” phrases we had picked up from the rap lyrics. Outside, the evening music of birds and crickets would commence.
A Long Way Gone is the heart wrenching, gut twisting memoir of a child soldier forced to fight in the bloody civil war that ravaged Sierra Leone from 1991 to 2002 and his miraculous escape and transformation. Given drugs, an AK47, and the ultimatum, kill them or we kill you, Ishmael Beah begins his nightmare as a child soldier. Beah tells in gritty, brutally honest detail the atrocities he witnessed and participated in. The story is filled with the simple joys of a child, such as singing, dancing, swimming, and enjoying ice cream juxtaposed with the cruel realities of war.
I found this book to be very difficult to read for a variety of reasons. As the parent of a 12 year old boy and I found myself reacting to much of the story on this level. Ishmael could have been my child and I cannot imagine Alex, my son, in Beah’s situation, nor do I want to. I also reacted very strongly to the images of brutality put forth in the story. I know that these are the reality in a war situation, but being aware of the age of the narrator, makes it that much more difficult. Amazingly, throughout the story, I felt a ring of hope. Somehow, this child found that spot deep within himself that was confident there was hope, somewhere.
