I am Refugee

In my village it was peaceful. The yellow sun rose turning the dirt red. It was a hard life but it was home. Water was gold, more precious than life because it preserved life. In my village there was lots of water. My village was known as the village of peace, until war came. We were forced to leave our beloved village. My father and mother and I fled like animals before a hunter. From a place far away we watched our village burn to ashes. In the day we saw the black scar on the red dirt. I was eight.

We were driven until there was no place to go but the mines. My father worked in the mines for 8 years. He worked until he could no longer see.  One day, while my father was in the mines, my mother left our shanty house. I watched for her until my father returned. She never came back. My father never told me where she went. Over time we forgot about her. The important thing was to stay alive.
One day my father called me. It was a hot day. It was the kind of day where the flies too were so thirsty they would die on your arm before they could drink the sweat on your body. My father was sick. He took my hand and told me,

“Boy, you must leave this place.”

I nodded because he was my father. He then told me to shift him from his place of rest. He didn’t feel that heavy. Under his sitting mat was a hole. There was enough money in the hole to get passage. But it was only enough for one person.
         
“No,” I said.
         
“Don’t disobey you father!” he snarled. Even when sick his authority was still present. “Go to the waters. If you see the boat, jump. When they come to you, give them this. Do not drink the water, no matter how much you want it. Do not drink. Live.”

         
He placed his hands on mine as I took the bundle.
         
“I will come back for you,” I told him.
         
He only smiled and laughed a sick laugh. He laughed then looked at me with cold eyes and said, “Go!”
         
I could not cry, I had no water to spare for that. I made him comfortable and went to the waters. Before I left I told him again that I would come back.
There were so many people. I could see people with guns keeping the people away from the boats. I saw they only allowed people who had bundles like the one in my hands. The boat was already full. I did not want to jump. I stood and watched until I really decided that I did not want to go.
“What have you got there?”

The man that spoke was an evil man. He looked at me with an evil smile.

“Give it to me,” he said.

I shook my head. No.
         
“Give to me,” he said again.

He did not have a gun but he had friends. Suddenly I felt my father's bundle start to slip between my fingers. I do not know why I did it. Perhaps I hit him because I was afraid of losing my father’s sacrifice. He tried to take it away from me but I didn’t let go. I hit him until he was on the ground. His friend tried to get me to but I kicked him. I still remember the hate in their eyes. I backed away and started running, anywhere, just away from them.  I fell but I was too afraid to stay down. The boat was already pulling away. I looked behind me and saw them coming. I remembered my father’s words. I pushed myself from the ground and ran and jumped.

The people in the boat screamed as I landed. There were so many people on the boat. I found myself looking at a gun with an angry man holding it.

“Get off!” he shouted.

“My father said to come to the boat.”
“Get off!”

“Here,” I said offering him my father’s bundle. “Please, let me stay on the boat.”

I do not know how long I pleaded with him. He took the bundle and looked at it. He punched me so hard then left. I saw him go to the man of the boat, the captain, and give him the bundle. The captain looked at me and shook his head as if in disbelief.

There were too many people on the boat. I did not sleep for two days. When it was dark I could not see anyone. I was afraid. It was so quiet.  The only sound is the water. The only light we had was the stars in the heavens. I remember being so afraid I sang a song. It was a song from the village, my mother taught me.

In the village, in the dark
Little children are afraid
In the village, in the light
Little children are happy
Little children, little children
Don’t be afraid
You are the light in the village

On the fifth day I was too tired to sing. I was lying on the edge of the boat half awake. I lay there with a rope around me so I wouldn’t fall into the water. I could hear the children whimpering in their discomfort.  I heard a soft voice from above my head.

“Boy who sings.”

That is what they called me because no one knows each other’s name. It was a female’s voice.

“Boy who sings,” she said. “Please sing the song.”

“I cannot sing,” I said.

“Please,” she pleaded. “You must sing, for the children.”

I sang. I was so tired. When I stopped singing the children no longer cried.

*

The next day the sun struck me. My skin became very tender. It hurt.
I do not know how many days we were on the water. One day the sun was gone. The sky was dark. It was rain clouds. I thought to myself, I have found where all the clouds go that do not come to my village. I saw that the captain was not looking happy.

The storm was so big. The water came into the boat in waves. We poured out four buckets of water and a hundred would come in. Finally we just gave up and held on to the boat. The night was long and the cries grew louder and louder until it rivaled even the storm. Their cries made me afraid. I could not see the stars. There were no stars that night, there was no light.  I could not help but sing the song of my village.

In the village, in the dark
Little children are afraid
In the village, in the light
Little children are happy
Little children, little children
Don’t be afraid
You are the light in the village

The more afraid I was the louder I sang. I do not know how long I sang that night. I woke the next morning looking into the eyes of a girl. She was holding on to the same place where I was holding. I thought that was a good sight after the storm.
         
“What is your name?” she whispered.
         
I recognized her voice. She was the one that asked me to sing.
         
“Boy who sings,” I whispered back. “What is yours?”
         
“Rewanda.”
         
We spoke about many things. She was from the village next to ours. They too had been driven. Her whole family was on the boat except for her mother, she was killed in the raid. I told her I was the only one. Life became bearable on that boat. At night I would sing other songs from the village but always she would ask for the song my mother taught me.
         
One day the captain was angry about something. He was arguing with a man. Suddenly the captain called the man with the gun. They pushed the man to the edge of the boat and told him to jump. The man did not jump. It brought back memories of when we were forced to abandon our village. The next day the man was no longer on the boat.
         
While were talking one day the captain came to us. He gave Rewanda a bottle of water. She did not want to take it. Her father made her take it.  That night I felt her hand on mine.
         
“Drink,” she whispered.
         
“Have you drunk?” I asked.
         
“Yes,” she said.
         
I took the bottle then gave it back to her without drinking.
         
“Thank you,” I said.
         

*

One day I woke to the sound of the gun. The captain was angry.
         
“You do not steal from me!” he screamed. “You steal and I will kill you.”
         
I did not know birds can fly that far. I saw them flying around in the sky over the man. The fever started with a woman on the front of the boat. The captain ordered her to be thrown off. If she stayed we would all get sick.