Recorded 23 June 2005, Kenema, Sierra Leone

Mohammed’s story is recorded here as he told it, more or less. The recording wasn’t great quality but these are his words as far as I can get them down. It begins in his village of Luwma, just three miles from the Liberian border, where he lived with his family.

After we heard the news of the rebels we fled to another village which is nearby, at first. But that night the rebels came there, they attacked at five in the morning, they were shooting all over the area, and these rebels were rebels from Liberia. They came in, after they are shooting, it was daytime, they called us all together. They separated us – women and children were to go one way and young men should go another way. After that they killed some men there, they took out those who had valuable property – they took them away. They told us that we are safe and that there is no problem – they are freedom fighters, so we should go back to our various villages where we come from.

So we all went back to our villages and we were there in the bush for one year – we were unable to pass through to Kenema because there was heavy fighting. Finally the soldiers overpowered them; I think they had enough equipment to push them towards us. In fact, whenever they arrive from the war front, the person who would be in very great trouble was the town chief. At one time, I can remember they caught one soldier from the war front, and in front of us, when we were all standing there, they tied him, put him on the ground, and they are shooting all round him. In fact they set a fire right by him and took his body and beat him. The man was not dead at that time. We are all crying for the soldier. You cannot cry outwardly, you cry inside, because if you cry outwardly you are feeling sorry for the soldier. You cry inwardly; nobody would cry outwardly.

So finally the soldiers overpowered them and took us. There was firing everywhere from the war front – you can hear it. You cannot flee to the bush at that moment because the rebels were with us, so they told us to go with them. So we fled again about eight miles from our village. There were too many people from all the villages. The town was so filled up, people were sleeping outside. People were not allowed to move away from the village, neither to come in. For the moment we were all in that village – it was a big town.

So finally for two or three days we are there. And then the soldiers overpowered them at the war front, so they are coming. And in the morning we heard bombshells falling all over the town, killing people, so everybody fled. Wherever you are able to go, you just go your own way, because that kind of bombshell had never been heard before in that village. So we all fled. My own people fled to the bush; others that were with us took their own way. But I was able to stay with some people who took us to the bush. We tried to come to our own part of the bush – we fled by foot. We came to a village and saw some rebels. As soon as they saw us, we were unable to hide from them. They took us to a town, put us on the ground, asking where are we from, why are we running away, why are we running from them, and they killed some people among us, because they were too frightened. They said these people are in fact mercenaries, probably – people who were paid by the soldiers to attack them, so they killed them. In that village they chopped people’s hands, they are wounding people with knives. These people they have already wounded are in that village, they started to kill them.

One morning we heard another bombshell from the soldiers, so we all fled again. We are able to flee from the rebels and come around to the surrounding bushes to a village area. There was no food for us to eat because we could not get to any town. We were in the bush alone, because if you walk and met the rebels on the way, you are just going to be killed, because they assume that you are a soldier. So in that bush there was no food for us to eat. We are picking leaves – we boiled them so that we could eat and make sauce. It was bitter to be eating, but we had nothing to eat, so we just had to eat them.

Over one year we are in that bush.

So finally somebody came from where the soldiers were, and they told us that the soldiers were going to spray the bush. If there was anybody there, rebels or civilians, they would be sprayed with some chemicals and everyone there was going to die. So we were afraid. We came out of the bush and went to where the soldiers were. The soldiers were not actually Sierra Leonian soldiers, they were Liberian soldiers who had fled from Liberia and had come to Sierra Leone. They came and surrounded us, women and children who came out of the bush were all surrounded. They said that women would go one way, and the young men and the strong men should go one way.

We were all taken to one place. The men were taken to the town hall, and we were asked a lot of questions. And, thank God, I was so small at that moment, I was not beaten up, because I would not be able to tell this story today. All those men were tied up in a straight line. Somebody set off a machine gun; they were set down on the floor. While somebody was talking to them, another man came down, put the gun down and arranged them directly in a queue, about 25 of them. We all started to cry, and they came around us and said, ‘You shut up, you shut up. Why are you crying? These people you are seeing are rebels.’

And we said, ‘No, they are not rebels, they are our people, they are our young men who are with us, our strong men who are with us, able to do something for us – they are not rebels, they are not rebels.’ So finally they put up the gun and began to shoot. They killed them all. We are all crying – everyone was crying. These people have women with them, their fathers were old, so they killed them all. They dragged them to a hole and just dumped them there.

We were all taken to a house were we are to be taken care of. We are crying – we don’t know who they were – the soldiers or the government. Because if we went to the rebels, they would kill us. So everyone was crying, ‘God, come and save us. Who will save us now from these people? Where shall we go now? Shall we stay or go to the bush now and look upon the horrible things that have come upon us?’

The news that they gave us was a lie, in fact, the soldiers had no chemical that could do that. And every day in that place was a horrible day, because people would be killed. People would come from the bush, and after they came, the young people would be killed – all the strong men killed – they assumed that they were rebels and just killed them there in that village.

So one day, finally, the soldiers came and the village came under heavy gunshot. So the soldiers were fighting, they told us, ‘We are fighting.’ We could hear gunshots everywhere. We are not able to come outside and escape.

The rebels were shooting and fighting together with the soldiers. There were heavy bombshells and gunshot everywhere. We are all trembling, we are all frightened people. The shooting was so heavy that the soldiers said, ‘We are unable to fight the oncoming rebels. You are able to go. If you stay here, it is your own business. Whatever you do is your business. We are leaving.’

If you were caught by the soldiers they would kill you – they would say you were probably a mercenary or working for the soldiers. I was staying with a man who said that even though there was terrible gunshots, instead of staying here and dying a horrible death, or suffering before dying, because when you are caught they will beat you up, they will not kill you with their gun, they would start to chop you and continue to chop you until you die. So he said, ‘We are not going to stay here,’ he said, ‘if you are able to follow me, follow me.’

But some of the women said, ‘We will stay here – if they are coming to kill us, they will kill us, I can hear gunshot and I am not able to walk out in the gunshot, I will stay here under the bed.’

Only God was with me – I decided to go. So I opened the door and we crawled on the ground. We are crawling, crawling – we crawled and crawled and crawled – we would just get up for a moment. We would bow our heads and then fall down again – because we could hear the gunfire every side we walked. Because the rebel soldiers were afraid to enter the town because they were afraid that the soldiers were in the town. They are shooting directly at the town with rockets. I, together with that man, went away from the town. We walked to the country near the town – we moved round the roads for the rest of the day, in fact, because there was shooting in the town. People were crying, we too were crying because we were thinking that, as long as people are crying, they are in big trouble. People were crying, people were shouting. People were locking up their houses in that town. From there we could see people fleeing from these places. So we can see that people were forced to leave their houses – their houses were being put on fire.

That night, the man said, ‘Boy, if you are able to walk with me, then follow me. If you are not able, you will need to stay here – I am not able to hold your hand, but if you are able, you walk. If you are not able, stay here.’ The man started to run, in fact. I ran behind him. He actually waited for me because I was so small. After we began to run I was not even crying, because I have a special mind in me now. I was not crying any longer for anybody. I now think if I’m going to die, let me die here now. So I picked up the pace. The man said, ‘I love a boy like you, because you are no longer crying. You are not a small boy now. So let’s move.’

So we are walking together. The man was only talking to me, he said, ‘If we go anywhere, if we meet soldiers or rebels, don’t say anything. I will talk. Because I know I have the heaviest problem, because you are a child – they will not do anything to you. I have the problem. If you are asked, just say I am an ordinary man, I am not a con-man.’

So we walked and walked and walked. We slept in another village – in fact nobody was there, so we went into one of the bushes around. We were walking to Kenema on foot, so we stayed around the bush. Then in the morning we took the road again. We are walking on the road, we are meeting people – men, women, children. We just walked and came around a village where we met people. We were afraid to go into a village, because if we were caught by the soldiers, you were in big trouble. They would tie you up and if God is not with you they would kill you, in fact.

So the man was afraid and said, ‘I am leaving here.’ Since I was a small child and I had nobody, I said, ‘Well, I can’t go back to Luwma. If I go to Kenema, I will probably meet some of my relatives there.’ He said, ‘Where are you going, a small child like you? What will you eat?’

So I said, ‘I will stand where other people are eating and hope that they give me food.’ If the soldiers came to the village, they would not see me, because I was so small and I was very slim. They would not talk to me, because they were concentrating on the young people, the strong people, the men and women.

I was walking alone. If one family was moving in the same direction, I would walk with them. If I see that they have a problem moving ahead, and I see another family, I would just walk to them. I was doing that until I came to Kenema.

When I came to Kenema I was just walking everywhere, to see if I can see my people. Kenema was also packed full with people from all the surrounding villages. The town was very full with people. Everywhere you walked, people were sleeping outside, because the rooms were all so full up. You can ask me where I was sleeping, because we were all sleeping outside. Up to now I can’t sleep a lot, because I’m used to that – I will just sleep a bit and wake up. I was very hungry – when we came to Kenema I could have bread. If I saw people eating I would beg them, ‘Please can you give me food? I want to eat.’

So finally I met with some boys, and someone came to them and said, ‘Why can’t you boys go to the bushes and start fetching wood for people so that they can buy it and pay you, so that you can get away from this suffering?’ We were away from our own village. I was not having anything on my feet. Together with the other boys, we walked to the bushes and we’d gather wood, tie them up and start to sell wood. Someone would say, ‘How much for your wood?’ We’d say, ‘100 Leones, 50 Leones,’ and they’d buy it. We’d go into the bush to fetch more and sell it. So we’d use that money to buy food or put it together so that the parents of those boys would make food for us to eat. 100 Leones was a very small amount of money – you couldn’t get anything with it, because everything was expensive in Kenema. So I started to take loads for people to the park. I was helping to load people. A boy came with a bag, he would say, ‘Let’s go together – I will pay you 500 Leones, I will pay 200 Leones…’ So I’d say, ‘OK, let’s go.’ At that time I was so strong because I had nobody to – probably if you have somebody to speak up for you then you think of yourself as a child. But if you don’t have anybody, you think of yourself as a strong man, a big man in fact. You have to do everything on your own. No one is asking, ‘Where are you going? What are you doing? Who are you?’ Nobody asks you. So I would just help people with their loads.

So finally there was a man who came to me – he took me as his son, because I was a small boy. He said, ‘I come from Freetown – come back with me, I will give you money.’ So he took me to his home – I was happy when he would return because he would give me food. Finally he said to me, ‘I am going to Freetown – I will take you to my people there. I have a woman there who I believe will take care of you, and I believe you will be happy there. There is no problem.’ I was thinking that the man would probably take me to sell me – probably for rituals – so I was afraid to some extent. So the man said, ‘Don’t worry. If anything happens, I am serving God. I am a Muslim. God will judge me. Please, let’s go.’ So I decided to go with the man.

We arrived in Freetown in the night – I was tired and I was sleeping. We came down – the man said, ‘Let’s walk to the house.’ I was walking, but was sleepy. I felt tired and I just put the load that was on my head on the wayside and lay down and slept for that night.

When I woke up, I realised that I was in a big town – a different town, not even Kenema, but Freetown. Everywhere people were walking, coming this way, standing by me, talking to me, but I cannot understand what they are talking because they were talking Krio and I was talking Mende, and I did not happen to meet anybody who can speak to me in Mende. In fact people were laughing at me. They thought I was a crazy boy. So I started to cry while I walked by the wayside. In fact I left the load I was carrying by the wayside and just walked away. I was just walking everywhere, looking at people, looking for a park. But I didn’t realise that, because this was a big city, there were different parks for different occasions. So I was thinking that the park would be just the same as Kenema park.

I was walking round the park crying, searching for the man, but I had not seen him. So finally I decided that I just had to decide to adjust to live with these people. I was now working with some young men taking loads for people. They were laughing at me because I was not speaking Krio, I was speaking Mende. They had their own special way of wearing their trousers. I was working with them. I would take loads for people to the park. I together with those boys would sleep on the wayside at night, find a way at the corner of the shops and sleep there.

I realised that at one time I was at the market. I became famous there. People would say, ‘What is your name?’ I would say, ‘Mohammed.’ I was starting to speak Krio now. My Krio was horrible – whenever I speak, people laugh at me. A teacher from a school that had opened met me at the park – I was taking his bag. He said, ‘Boy, where are your parents?’ I said, ‘I don’t have any parents.’ I explained my story to him – he felt sorry for me, he was even crying. I said, ‘Why are you crying?’ I was strong for myself – I was not crying. He said, ‘A small boy like you – you don’t have any parents – you are on the street. I’m going to take you to a place where you will be looked after.’ I said, ‘No – I am not going anywhere, I am satisfied on the street, where I am now.’ He said, ‘No – this is not a place for you. Where I am going to take you is good for you.’ I said no, because I was afraid – people might sell me for rituals, or for money. He said, ‘Please – let’s go.’

He said it to other people, to persuade me to go. They said, ‘If anything happens to you, we know where this man is talking about.’ It was a place that the government was operating – the National Displaced School. I was in that place – they put me into Class One there – people were laughing at me because I could not speak better Krio – my Krio was horrible. I was like a dumb man, because whenever I speak they laugh. They started to teach A-B-C-D.

I became so powerful now, so brilliant in the class. I’m a small boy and my concentration was always on that A-B-C-D – they were cooking food for us to eat, so I was so happy in that place. That lasted about six months in 1994. They said, ‘This boy is so brilliant – he knows all his A-B-C-D, all his two-letter words,’ they said, ‘We are going to take you to class two.’ So they took me to class two for the end of that year and I took the exam. I also passed the exam and went to class three. I was so happy now because I was the brightest student in the class, so everyone loved me now. Everyone loved me because I can speak Mende. If you want to talk to me in Krio, I would change my tongue to Mende, so people would laugh at me. People would speak to me in Krio, which I cannot understand properly, and I would speak to them in Mende, which they cannot understand properly. So everyone loved me – people loved me, people would play with me. People loved to help me, people were giving me food. Some other boys were also there with us. So I passed the exam and they promoted me from class three to class five, so they gave me a double promotion because I came first.

I was the brightest student also there – nobody could challenge me, so I also passed, I came first to go to class six. We took the Common Entrance Exam. I was the senior prefect. I came first also for the school – I scored 321 – the highest score was 500 – nobody had ever got that number, so people were happy for me. The headteacher loved me so much, he started to care for me, he said, ‘You are my child – consider me as your father – I love you so much, I love you as my children.’ But he couldn’t take me to his house yet.

When we sat the Common Entrance Exam, you would be going to Form One. But in Form One the MPRC would no longer pay for you, because you are no longer in their care, you are going to a secondary school. They said I should not start for Grade A school, but should start for Grade B school, because Grade A schools are very expensive to attend. They said, though you are brilliant, you can’t afford it. They said before the exam, you can do it, but don’t go there because you have nobody who can pay for you, so don’t go there.

I said, ‘I have faith in God,’ because at that time I had already accepted Christ. I thought as long as people loved me in this area, they would help me out. I started to go to a school – one boy was attending the school and gave me his old uniforms. They were so big for me; I was like a chicken in the clothes. I was very short, very small. People were laughing at me because the shorts were like trousers – they were very long for me. I did not mind. As long as I was learning whatever they were teaching me, I don’t care. Our school was known as one of the best. My fellow pupils were just laughing at me, but I didn’t mind because I just wanted to be a good pupil.

When we sat the exam, the rebels attacked Freetown, so Freetown was under a serious attack. At that time one government was giving power to another. There was no school going on. The man who was put in charge of us also fled to Guinea and to the UK. There was no school for us now – everyone just strived for themselves. We would go to anybody to beg for food. We were working very hard – we would break stones for people. I have a lot of pain, because I was taking bags – when I put it on my head I would cry because it was so heavy, but if I don’t, I will not have anything to eat or something to buy food. I was crying because of my stomach, saying, ‘God – when shall you take me away from this trouble? Oh my God, come to my aid.’ I would just lie down on the floor – I would put my head down. It was horrible at that time.

Finally the APRC government was overthrown by the FRC – it was a horrible moment also. There was no food. The schools were resumed and we started to attend. The man said that I would be taken care of. After three months, we were asked for school fees. The head said without the school fees, he would not be able to run the school, so come with your fees. Every day he would come around and call our names, who had not paid our fees, and ask us out for a moment. I was in a very horrible moment, I said, ‘Who am I going to ask for school fees? I don’t have anybody.’ So I went to get a job at a garage, mending vehicles. Nobody would ask me to pay there, in fact people would be giving me money. I tried – I had the head to learn, but if there was no opportunity I had to go to that place.

One time, when I was going to school, I had no money for lunch. After school, I went to a restaurant to help clean, and they would give me some rice there – I would wash their plates and they would give me rice. When I was in school I would not eat – after school at one o’clock or two o’clock I would go to the restaurant and start to clean, wash the plates, so that they would give me food to eat. Then I would study in the night, during the day I would go to school.

Finally one day, a woman came to school who was fair in complexion. She was called Auntie Pat. She came and someone called me, saying that a woman fair in complexion is asking for me. And I say, ‘Who is that?’ ‘She has come down – she is calling for you.’ So I said, ‘Not me – not Mohammed Sano.’ But I went to meet her, and the woman said there is an organisation called Trust International, which has now changed to EducAid – the woman was working for them. She said, ‘This organisation is going to pay your fees – I am going to come again, to see you, to know you. Don’t worry – just continue coming to school. I will talk to the Principal to stop calling your name. Because now we don’t have enough money – we’ve come to pay for other children, we don’t have enough money, so just wait.’ So I said, ‘OK.’ She went back and I was actually unable to ask her where she lived or where the organisation lived.

So I started to come to school, but every day the Principal would want to know, ‘When are your people going to come and pay? How can they just come and talk and talk and cannot pay for you?’ Finally at one time he came and paid for my fees. I think Miriam actually came to pay, and when she came to pay, they called me. ‘A white lady is asking for you, Mohammed Sano.’ I said, ‘No – I have never met with a white lady like that.’ There was a drawing competition in the town for WFP – they said probably I had won. But I said, ‘I’ve never drawn anything. So don’t call on Mohammed Sano – I’m not the one.’ They insisted I come down. When I saw her, I was looking strange because I had never met her. But Miriam was happy to see me, she was laughing to me, ‘Come!’ and she tried to hug me. I was afraid, I thought why is she trying to hug me, is this not a devil that has come to collect me? At that time she was speaking English – I could not understand and there was an interpreter. She explained she was from the UK and she had come to pay my school fees. I said, ‘What?’

I was so happy, because that was what I had been thinking of outside. I was thinking, who is going to pay? Why did that lady come who was going to pay my fees? She took out the money. I was jubilating everywhere. People were saying, ‘You are so lucky – this white lady has come to pay for you.’ She showed me where the organisation was based. She asked if I could be excused from school. She asked where I was living. She took me to the area where we were living as boys. She took some photos of me with all the other boys that were in that place. She made me feel that I have a mother. She so loved me. Before going, she had a party. She called on me and collected me and we went to that party with some of my friends. I was so happy because she loved me – she normally hugged me, she would put me on her lap. She loved me so much – I actually felt the love of a mother through. When I left my village I was very small, so I cannot remember having a mother. All the time I was crying, because I had lost them, I don’t know where they are, I don’t know where my brother, my sister are. I don’t know anybody here now. But when she actually came, I actually felt it is good to have a mother.

When she went back, after one month or so, she came to Auntie Pat. She said, ‘That white lady called – she gave me money to give to you.’ I was so happy – she put the money into my hand. I was kissing the money, hugging it, saying, ‘This woman loves me so much!’ I said I wanted to take the money to show my friends – she said no, I can call them. So I called them. They had never seen it – pounds – a different kind of money which they call pounds – they had never seen it. Some other boys came – she said, ‘Who are these people?’ I said they are village boys. We are looking at the money – saying this is the most expensive currency in the world. All the boys loved me too now, saying, ‘You have a white mother too now.’ I used the money to buy a bag, to buy a new uniform. I was able to live like all the other boys at the school now. I normally went down to that woman for lunch because Miriam normally sent money to her, so she would normally give me money to buy lunch. So I started to go out for lunch. So I was so happy.

But finally, when the new government came to power, a man came to the compound saying they were going to develop it and we should all find somewhere else to live. We said, ‘How are we going to find somewhere else to live?’ And he said, ‘The war is over – go back to your villages to live – we don’t care about anybody. All we want is for you people to leave. We will call the police to drive you from this place.’ So I was now crying, ‘Where shall I go now? I don’t have anybody here. Where shall I go?’ So I started to cry. At one time I went to that woman Auntie Pat and I said, ‘This is what they’ve told us. We have to leave our compound and I don’t have anywhere else to go. Can you please ask me to come to live with you?’ She said, ‘No problem. Take your bag and come.’ Finally they came with policemen and told us, ‘Leave this place now, leave this place.’ They took our things and threw them outside. They were saying that we are rebels, there were strong men there, they were rebels, who were just causing havoc around the area, so we should leave. So we said, ‘OK,’ we were going to leave the compound.

I left the compound and went to Auntie Pat now. When Miriam returned back, she supported me throughout my education. Up to this moment she has been paying for me.

Mohammed completed his time at the school, but his final results were not as good as they might have been, because he was restricted in the subjects he was allowed to study. He has just completed a ‘top-up’ year at the EducAid school in Lumley, and has applied to university.

We returned to Luwma with Mohammed on 22 June 2005, the first time he had been back to his village in 13 years. He had heard that his father had died during the war. When we arrived in the village we met his uncle, who is now the local primary school teacher. He told us that most of Mohammed’s family still lives there, but that both his mother and older brother, the only family he remembered, had died. He then rounded up the family who remain there – two brothers and two sisters and their children. I counted 19 nephews and nieces! There are more living in the towns. We also met the village grandfather – an man aged 104-5!

Luwma village was destroyed three times during the war, when many people including Mohammed fled for their lives. Today only one stone building remains standing: the mosque. The village has been rebuilt in wood and clay. There is a new primary school which recently opened – they only have one teacher for 60 students, and one person teaching Arabic.

None of Mohammed’s brothers and sisters had any education; the local primary school was destroyed in the war. His brothers who left the village have trades, but those in Luwma make a living taking packets from one village to another or farming – a subsistence lifestyle.

We were unable to stay in Luwma and it was quite overwhelming for Mohammed in any case. He has since returned to the village where he got a hero’s welcome – they are very proud of him. He has started to evangelise the villagers and plans to do some education work there too.

Mark Wallace
15 July 2005