When Stars Are Scattered

NOW, IN A PLACE AS CROWDED AS THIS, I’M AFRAID WE’LL NEVER BE FOUND. “I DON’T SEE HER, HASSAN”. “HOOYO”. C’MON, IT’S GETTING LATE. WE SHOULD GO BACK HOME. WE STAY OFF THE MAIN ROADS TO TRY AND AVOID TROUBLE. “HURRY HASSAN”.

RIGHT NOW, WE’RE RIGHT SMACK DAB IN THE MIDDLE OF A3 BLOCK, AND HASSAN AND I LIVE IN BLOCK A2, LET’S JUST SAY IT’S NOT A GOOD IDEA TO BE CAUGHT IN ANOTHER BLOCK ALL ALONE. THAT’S HOW A GROUP OF KIDS STOLE OUR SHOES AND PANTS LAST WEEK. AS SOON AS WE GET BACK TO A2, I BREATHE A SIGH OF RELIEF. IN OUR BLOCK, EVERYONE KNOWS ME AND MY BROTHER. NO ONE WILL BOTHER US.

WALKING WITH HASSAN SOMETIMES TAKES A WHILE. HE STOPS TO GREET EVERY NEIGHBOR WE MEET. “GALAB WANAAGSAN!”, “SALAAM ALAYKUMIF” IF HE SEES SOMEONE PUSHING A WHEELBARROW, HE LIKES TO HELP OUT. HE SAYS HELLO TO THE DONKEYS PULLING CARTS. HE COLLECTS FRUIT TO HAND OUT TO ALL THE NEIGHBORHOOD GOATS. BY THE TIME WE GET HOME, IT’S NEARLY NIGHTTIME. FATUMA DOESN’T LIKE US TO WALK AROUND WHEN IT’S DARK. HASSAN AND I LIVE HERE. FATUMA LIVES RIGHT ACROSS THE PATH. SHE’S KIND OF LIKE OUR FOSTER MOM. SHE WATCHES OVER US TO MAKE SURE WE’RE OK. “ALHAMDULILLAH! THERE YOU ARE! I WAS STARTING TO GET WORRIED!”

“COME HERE, MY HEART.” THAT’S FATUMA’S NICKNAME FOR HASSAN. THE WAY HIS HAIR GROWS IN, IT MAKES HIS FACE LOOK LIKE A HEART. THE NICKNAME MAKES SENSE, BECAUSE FATUM REALLY LOVES HASSAN. “YOU TOO, OMAR! MY BIG BOY!” OK, SHE REALLY LOVES BOTH OF US.

WE DON’T HAVE ANY FOOD TO EAT TONIGHT, SO HASSAN AND I GO RIGHT TO BED. HASSAN AND I SLEEP IN OUR OWN TENT. AFTER ALL, FATUMA IS NOT OUR REAL MOM, SO WE’RE STILL ASSIGNED DIFFERENT TENTS. HASSAN DOESN’T SLEEP VERY WELL, AND I DON’T EITHER. I USUALLY TELL STORIES ABOUT OUR HOME IN SOMALIA TO HELP US BOTH FALL ASLEEP. BUT I STILL WAKE UP WITH NIGHTMARES. JUDGING BY THE SOUNDS ALL AROUND US, I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH BAD DREAMS.

MY BROTHER AND I LIVE HERE IN A REFUGEE CAMP IN KENYA, IN AFRICA THE CAMP IS CALLED DADAAB. WE WEREN’T BORN HERE. HASSAN AND I WERE BORN IN SOMALIA. SOME PEOPLE HERE ARE FROM ETHIOPIA OR SUDAN OR OTHER PLACES IN AFRICA. BUT WE ALL HAVE ONE THING IN COMMON WE HAD TO LEAVE OUR HOMES BECAUSE WE WERE AFRAID FOR OUR LIVES. SOME PEOPLE WHO LIVE HERE HOPE THEY’LL BE SENT TO AMERICA OR CANADA OR SOME OTHER PLACE TO LIVE. NOT ME, THOUGH. I JUST WANT THE WAR IN SOMALIA TO END SO WE CAN GO BACK HOME. OUR MOM WILL BE ABLE TO FIND US THERE. DADAAB IS SO BIG, IT’S ACTUALLY MADE UP OF THREE SEPARATE CAMPS YOU CAN TAKE A BUS FROM ONE CAMP TO ANOTHER OR YOU CAN WALK FOR ABOUT FOUR HOURS. THERE’S HAGADERA WHICH IS NAMED AFTER THE BIG TREES. THERE’S DAGAHALEY NAMED AFTER…I DON’T KNOW WHAT. I LIVE IN IFO CAMP, WHICH IN ENGUSH ROUGHLY TRANSLATES TO “CITY OF LIGHT.” DON’T LET THE NAME FOOL YOU, THOUGH WE DON’T HAVE ELECTRICITY HERE.

AFTER SO MANY YEARS. WITH SO MANY PEOPLE LIVING HERE, IFO IS MORE LIKE A CITY THAN A CAMP WE HAVE MARKETS, SCHOOLS, MOSQUES, A HOSPITAL…EVERYTHING. REFUGEE CAMPS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE A TEMPORARY PLACE TO STAY UNTIL IT’S SAFE TO GO BACK HOME. I GUESS NO ONE EXPECTED THE WAR TO LAST SO LONG THOUGH, BECAUSE HASSAN AND I HAVE BEEN HERE FOR SEVEN YEARS. THERE ARE A LOT OF BAD PARTS ABOUT LIVING IN A REFUGEE CAMP. THERE’S NOT A LOT OF FOOD HERE SO HASSAN AND I ARE ALWAYS HUNGRY, AND ITS HOT. BUT FOR ME ONE OF THE WORST PARTS OF LIVING IN A REFUGEE CAMP IS…IT’S REALLY BORING. EVERY DAY IS BASICALLY THE SAME! THE FIRST THING I DO EVERY DAY, AFTER MORNING PRAYERS, IS I FETCH WATER. THAT CAN TAKE HOURS. THERE’S ONLY ONE WATER SPIGOT AND IT’S ONLY OPEN A FEW HOURS A DAY-SO THERE’S ALWAYS A REALLY LONG LINE. AFTER THAT, I CLEAN OUR TENT AND MAKE SURE ANYTHING VALUABLE IS HIDDEN AWAY. THEN HASSAN AND I GO TO FATUMA’S TENT. SHE MAKES US TEA. IF THERE’S ANYTHING TO EAT, WE EAT. “I ASKED AROUND AND I FOUND ANOTHER PAIR OF PANTS FOR YOU AND HASSAN, I’M AFRAID YOU’LL HAVE TO WAIT FOR SHOES.”

“WOW THANKS, FATUMA!”

TRUTH BE TOLD, HASSAN WOULD RATHER BE PANTS-LESS. “PUT. THEM. ON!”

“HI, OMAR!”

“OH, HEY, JERI.” THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND, JERI. I’VE KNOWN HIM PRACTICALLY MY WHOLE LIFE.

“SOCCER AFTER SCHOOL, RIGHT?”

“YEAH, FOR SURE!”

JERI USED TO STAY HOME LIKE ME, BECAUSE HE WAS SICK. THAT’S HOW HE GOT HIS NICKNAME: “JERI” IS A NAME FOR SOMEONE WHO LIMPS. BUT NOW HE GOES TO SCHOOL WITH A LOT OF OTHER KIDS FROM OUR BLOCK. I’VE NEVER GONE TO SCHOOL, I’VE ALWAYS STAYED HOME TO TAKE CARE OF HASSAN. I’M THE OLDEST, SO IT’S MY JOB TO PROTECT HIM.

“C’MON, LET’S GO TO THE BUILDING PIT.” BUT I WONDER WHAT SCHOOL WOULD BE LIKE.”BUILDING PIT” IS A NICE WAY TO DESCRIBE THIS PLACE. IT’S REALLY JUST A PUDDLE WHERE WE PLAY IN THE MUD. YOU HAVE TO BE CREATIVE IN A REFUGEE CAMP. “YOU MAKE THE BRICKS, HASSAN, AND I’LL BUILD THE HOUSE. 2 BRICKS PLUS 2 BRICKS EQUALS…4 BRICKS! ONE… TWO…”. EVEN THOUGH I’VE NEVER GONE TO AN ACTUAL SCHOOL, MY MOM TAUGHT ME ALL MY NUMBERS WHEN I WAS SMALL. I KEEP PRACTICING SO I WON’T FORGET. HE CAN’T SAY SO, BUT I CAN TELL HASSAN IS IMPRESSED BY MY AMAZING MATH SKILLS. HASSAN CAN’T TALK. EVER SINCE HE WAS A BABY, HE’S ONLY EVER SAID ONE WORD. “HOOYO!” BUT HE MAKES A LOT OF NOISES, AND WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER. THE DOCTORS SAY HASSAN IS DOING BETTER NOW. HE USED TO HAVE A LOT OF SEIZURES WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER. THOSE WERE REALLY SCARY. BUT HE HASN’T HAD ONE IN A WHILE. I DON’T LIKE TO THINK ABOUT THOSE SEIZURES. I DON’T KNOW WHAT I WOULD DO WITHOUT MY BROTHER. HE MAKES LIFE HERE BEARABLE.

HASSAN AND I ALWAYS PLAY THE SAME GAME AT THE BUILDING PIT: HOUSE. IT TAKES ALMOST ALL DAY TO DO IT PROPERLY. BUT FINALLY… “FINISHED! NOW, THIS IS OUR HOUSE. ITS BIG ENOUGH FOR YOU, ME, FATUMA, AND MAMA. OVER THERE ARE OUR CORNFIELDS. AND WAY OVER THERE IS WHERE WE KEEP THE GOATS! WE HAVE 100…NO, 200 GOATS! AND THAT IS THE SCHOOL. IN THE AFTERNOON I’LL GO TO SCHOOL, AND YOU’LL GO HOME AND HELP MAMA WITH THE GOATS. LOOK, WE HAVE A NICE, SOFT MATTRESS TO SLEEP ON. IT FEELS LIKE A CLOUD!”

“YOU GOT ROOM ON THAT MATTRESS FOR ME? SCOOT OVER”, SAID JERI. IF ANY OF THE OTHER BOYS CAUGHT ME PLAYING HOUSE, I’D BE EMBARRASSED-BUT I’M NEVER EMBARRASSED AROUND JERI.

ALL OF A SUDDEN, THE GROUND STARTS TO SHAKE AND THE DUST KICKS UP. THIS CAN ONLY MEAN ONE THING. THE OTHER A2 BOYS ARE HOME FROM SCHOOL TOO. “C’MON, IT’S SOCCER TIME!” THERE ARE A LOT OF KIDS LIVING HERE IN A2. LIKE JERI, A LOT OF THEM GO BY NICKNAMES, SINCE MANY SOMALI NAMES ARE SIMILAR. THAT’S TALL ALI, FOR EXAMPLE, AND HE’S SHORT ALI. I HAVE A NICKNAME TOO.

“HEY, DANTEY! YOU GONNA PLAY WITH US, OR LIMPY HERE?”

“DANTEY” MEANS…SOMEONE WHO KIND OF KEEPS TO THEMSELVES. IT WAS MY DAD’S NICKNAME TOO, BACK IN SOMALIA. ONE OF MY NEIGHBORS TOLD ME THAT. SO I GUESS HE WAS KIND OF QUIET LIKE ME. SO I DON’T MIND IF KIDS PICK ON ME FOR BEING QUIET, IF IT MEANS I AM LIKE MY DAD.

“LIMP OR NO LIMP, JERI CAN RUN CIRCLES AROUND YOU, TALL ALI. I’M ON HIS TEAM.”

TALL ALI IS KIND OF A JERK, BUT THE A2 KIDS STICK TOGETHER ANYWAY. WE PLAY SOCCER EVERY DAY. ONE PROBLEM WE DON’T HAVE A SOCCER BALL, SO WE HAVE TO MAKE ONE OUT OF PLASTIC BAGS. THE ONLY PROBLEM WITH THAT IS…THEY DON’T LAST VERY LONG.

“AW MAN.”

“MOVE IT, YOU IDIOT!”

“LOOK, I HAVE ONE, TWO. THREE!”

“OW!”

“HEY, JERI, WHATS HE TALKING ABOUT? WON TOO TREE?”

“NO! IT’S “ONE, TWO, THREE! IT’S HOW YOU COUNT TO THREE IN ENGLISH. WE LEARNED IT IN SCHOOL TODAY”

“ONE, TWO.. TREE?”

“NO, THHHHH-REEEE! YOU HAVE TO STICK YOUR TONGUE OUT, LIKE THIS. THHH-REEE THHHHH-REEEE”

“ONE. TWO…THHHHHREE ONE. TWO…THHHHREEEE”

IF I LISTENED CAREFULLY WHILE THE BOYS TALKED, IT WAS ALMOST LIKE I GOT TO GO TO SCHOOL. “HEY… HASSAN? HASSAN! WHERE ARE YOU?”

I DON’T LIKE TO LOSE SIGHT OF HASSAN. HE’D BE FINE IN OUR BLOCK OF COURSE, BUT IF HE WANDERS INTO A3 OR A4…

“I SEE HIM OVER THERE WITH TALL AU”

“HASSAN! I TOLD YOU NOT TO RUN AWAY!”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“WATCH THIS! HASSAN, BOO-HOO-HOO!” “BOO-HOO!”

“KNOCK IT OFF!”

“WHAT? IT’S FUNNY! BOO-HOO HOO!”

WHENEVER HASSAN SEES SOMEONE CRYING, HE STARTS TO CRY TOO. HE CAN’T HELP IT. “HASSAN, IT’S OK. IT’S NOT SAD. WE’RE HAPPY, OK? HAPPY.”

JERI WALKED HOME WITH ME AND HASSAN, LIKE HE’S DONE HUNDREDS OF TIMES BEFORE.

“FORGET ABOUT TALL ALI, HASSAN. HE MAKES FUN OF ME ALL THE TIME, AND LOOK HOW BADLY WE BEAT HIM AT SOCCER, DONT LET HIM GET TO YOU.”

“C’MON, HASSAN. LET’S PRACTICE YOUR ENGLISH. SAY, “ONE, TWO, THREE”!”

“HOOYO!”

“UMM… NO.”

“LISTEN, HASSAN, YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO LEARN ENGLISH IF YOU WANT TO LIVE IN AMERICA!”

“HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU?! WE’RE NOT GOING TO AMERICA. WE’RE GOING BACK TO SOMALIA WHEN THE WAR’S OVER.”

“YOU’RE CRAZY. MY DAD’S FRIEND’S COUSIN JUST GOT SENT TO AMERICA, AND HE SENDS BACK MONEY EVERY MONTH. EVERYONE THERE IS SUPER RICH! MY DAD SAYS IN AMERICA, EVERYONE HAS BIG CARS AND BIG. HOUSES. MY DAD ALMOST HAS ALL OF OUR PAPERWORK READY FOR THE UN.” (UN STANDS FOR THE UNITED NATIONS, UNHCR, OR THE UNITED NATIONS HIGH COMMISSIONER FOR REFUGEES, IS AN AGENCY THAT HELPS REFUGEES AROUND THE WORLD.)

“WELL, WE’RE GOING BACK TO SOMALIA TO TAKE CARE OF OUR HOUSE AND OUR FARM.”

“AND TO FIND MY MOMMY.” I DIDN’T ADD THAT LAST PART-I DIDN’T WANT JERI TO THINK I’M A COMPLETE BABY.

“HASSAN, BACK ME UP HERE! WHICH WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE A BIG CAR, OR A FARM?!”

“HOOYO!”

“I’M PRETTY SURE HE SAID “CAR.”

“YEAH, RIGHT!”

“JERI! MY OTHER SON! COME HAVE TEA WITH US.”

“THANK YOU, FATUMA, BUT I HAVE TO GET HOME. SEE YOU LATER, OMAR! BYE, HASSAN.”

“I HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT FOR YOU BOYS TODAY-SUGAR FOR YOUR TEA!”

“MMM! FATUMA, GUESS WHAT I LEARNED HOW TO SAY. “ONE, TWO, THREE.” THAT’S HOW YOU COUNT IN ENGLISH!”

“OH, MY!”

“AND LOOK, JERI TAUGHT ME HOW TO WRITE MY NAME IN ENGLISH TOO.”

Hello my name is Omar

LIFE IN THE CAMP WAS NOT EASY… BUT HASSAN AND I WERE TOGETHER. WE HAD FATUMA. I WAS LEARNING NEW THINGS. AND AS SOON AS THE WAR ENDED IN SOMALIA, WE COULD GO BACK HOME. BACK HOME, WE’D BE SAFE. NO ONE WOULD BOTHER HASSAN, AND WE WOULD FIND MY MOTHER. WE’D BEEN WAITING FOR SEVEN LONG YEARS TO GO HOME. HOW MUCH LONGER COULD IT BE?

EVERY DAY IN A REFUGEE CAMP IS THE SAME…

EXCEPT WHEN IT’S NOT. SOMETIMES YOUR LIFE CAN CHANGE IN AN INSTANT, BUT YOU CAN NEVER BE SURE IF IT’S A GOOD CHANGE OR A BAD CHANGE.

I’D SEEN THIS GUY AROUND BEFORE-IM PRETTY SURE HE LIVED IN MY BLOCK. ALL THE KIDS CALL HIM TALL SALAN, BECAUSE, WELL. YOU CAN GUESS WHY

“YOU SPEAK ENGLISH VERY WELL! AND YOU CAN WRITE IT TOO! YOU MUST DO VERY WELL IN SCHOOL” ( DENOTES ENGLISH )

“UMM”

“HOOYO!”

“HASSAN! GO BACK INSIDE!” UNTIL I’M SURE THAT SOMEONE IS SAFE, I TRY TO KEEP HASSAN AWAY FROM NEW PEOPLE. SALAN SEEMED ALL RIGHT, THOUGH.

“HE DOESN’T TALK.”

“YOU DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH LIKE OMAR HERE?”

“NO, HE DOESN’T TALK. AT ALL. WELL, EXCEPT HE SAYS “HOOYO” A LOT.”

“OH. AND WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS?”

“OUR FATHER DIED IN SOMALIA. BUT OUR MOTHER IS ALIVE. SOMEWHERE. WE JUST DONT KNOW WHERE.”

“SO IT’S JUST YOU AND YOUR BROTHER HERE?”

“AND FATUMA. SHE’S OUR FOSTER MOM.”

“I SEE. OMAR, I’M HERE TODAY TO INTRODUCE MYSELF. I AM A COMMUNITY LEADER, SO IF YOU HAVE ANY PROBLEMS AT ALL-WITH YOUR FOOD RATIONS, YOUR NEIGHBORS, OR SCHOOL-YOU CAN COME TO ME, AND WE’LL TRY TO SORT IT OUT. SPEAKING OF SCHOOL…IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY. WHY AREN’T YOU IN CLASS RIGHT NOW?”

“I…I DON’T GO TO SCHOOL”

“OH? AND WHY IS THAT?”

“I DON’T NEED TO GO TO SCHOOL TO LEARN HOW TO TAKE CARE OF MY BROTHER, DO I?”

SALAN GOT A KIND OF THOUGHTFUL LOOK ON HIS FACE AS HE WALKED AWAY.

“NO. NO, I DON’T SUPPOSE YOU DO. I’LL SEE YOU LATER, HASSAN. ”

I STARTED SEEING TALL SALAN PRETTY OFTEN AFTER THAT. HE WAS ALWAYS VISITING WITH NEIGHBORS, GETTING TO KNOW THEM AND LISTENING TO THEIR COMPLAINTS. I LIKED TO PRACTICE NEW ENGLISH PHRASES WITH HIM.

ONE DAY I FOUND HIM TALKING WITH FATUMA.

“OMAR, WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT YOU. COME, HAVE A SEAT.” FATUMA LOOKED WORRIED.

“IS EVERYTHING OK, FATUMA?”

“SALAN WAS JUST TELLING ME HIS THOUGHTS ABOUT YOU.”

“I DIDN’T DO IT!”

“NO, NO. YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. SALAN THINKS YOU SHOULD GO TO SCHOOL
AND I TOLD HIM WE HAVE BIGGER PROBLEMS IN OUR LIFE THAN SCHOOL WHY BOTHER WITH SCHOOL WHEN WE BARELY HAVE ENOUGH TO EAT?”

“THE WORLD IS CHANGING, FATUMA. WHO KNOWS WHERE ANY OF US WILL END UP IN THE NEXT FEW YEARS? WITH AN EDUCATION, HE’LL BE PREPARED FOR WHATEVER COMES NEXT.”

“WHAT DO YOU THINK, OMAR? DO YOU WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL, OR NOT?”

“I…BUT I CAN’T GO TO SCHOOL WHO WILL TAKE CARE OF HASSAN?”

“FATUMA IS HIS LEGAL GUARDIAN NO? SHE’LL WATCH OVER HIM WHILE YOU’RE GONE. IT’S ONLY A FEW HOURS EVERY DAY.”

“BUT… WE’RE NEVER APART! I’M HIS BIG BROTHER. HE…HE NEEDS ME!”

“FATUMA TELLS ME THAT HASSAN HAS LOTS OF FRIENDS AROUND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. DOES HE NEED YOU EVERY HOUR OF EVERY DAY? DOESN’T HASSAN NEED TO LEARN SOME INDEPENDENCE TOO?” I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS. EVERYONE IN A2 KNOWS HASSAN. MAYBE HE WOULD BE FINE WITH FATUMA…THEN AGAIN, I KNEW WHAT COULD HAPPEN TO FAMILIES WHEN THEY LEFT ONE ANOTHER.

“WELL THEN… WHAT ABOUT HIS SEIZURES? DID FATUMA TELL YOU ABOUT THEM?”

“SHE DID. SHE ALSO SAID IT’S BEEN OVER A YEAR SINCE HE’S HAD ONE, AND SHE KNOWS HOW TO HANDLE THEM.”

“OK, WELL, WHAT DO I NEED TO GO TO SCHOOL FOR, ANYWAY? SOON WE’LL BE BACK IN SOMALIA AND I’LL BE A FARMER LIKE MY DAD!”

“FARMERS NEED TO KNOW HOW TO READ AND COUNT! BESIDES, THE CIVIL WAR HAS BEEN RAGING FOR YEARS NOW, AND FIGHTING IS GETTING WORSE. NEW REFUGEES ARRIVE HERE EVERY WEEK. I’M SORRY, BUT RIGHT NOW THERE IS NO SOMALIA TO RETURN TO. SO? WHATS YOUR PLAN B?

“MAYBE WE’LL BE SENT TO AMERICA!”

“OH? AND HOW MANY PEOPLE DO YOU KNOW WHO HAVE BEEN RESETTLED TO AMERICA?”

“WELL…NONE. BUT JERIS DAD’S FRIEND’S COUSIN”

“COME WITH ME. OMAR. LOOK AT THIS GRAIN OF SAND. THIS IS YOU.” *FLING* YOU ARE ONE OF THOUSANDS-OF HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF REFUGEES HERE IN DADAAB. YOU’RE ABOUT AS LIKELY TO GET CHOSEN TO GO TO AMERICA AS I AM TO FIND THAT GRAIN OF SAND AGAIN.

“BUT WE MIGHT GET CHOSEN…”

“YES. OR YOU MIGHT NOT GET CHOSEN. YOU AND HASSAN COULD SPEND YOUR ENTIRE LIVES IN THIS REFUGEE CAMP. THEN WHAT?”

SPEND MY WHOLE LIFE HERE? THAT THOUGHT WAS…DEPRESSING.

“OMAR, ONLY GOD KNOWS WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN THE FUTURE. BUT IF YOU GET AN EDUCATION, YOU’LL BE PREPARED. YOU COULD GET A JOB. YOU COULD START A SCHOOL, LIKE I DID. YOU COULD PROVIDE FOR YOURSELF AND YOUR FAMILY. YOU HAVE A GIFT, OMAR. YOU’RE SMART. AND WHEN GOD GIVES YOU A GIFT, IT IS YOUR JOB TO USE IT.”

“BUT…BUT I CAN’T. I CAN’T GO TO SCHOOL! I JUST CAN’T! I…I’VE NEVER GONE TO SCHOOL BEFORE. IF I START NOW, THEY’LL PUT ME IN A CLASS WITH THE BABIES.”

HAHAHAHAHA

IT WASN’T FUNNY, I DIDN’T SEE WHY HE WAS LAUGHING.

OMAR. YOU LIVE IN A REFUGEE CAMP. YOU BARELY HAVE ENOUGH FOOD TO SURVIVE.. AND YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT BEING IN THE SAME CLASS WITH SEVEN-YEAR-OLDS?! “HA-HA-HA. TELL YOU WHAT. I KNOW THE PRINCIPAL OF THE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. HOW ABOUT I ASK HIM IF YOU CAN BE PLACED IN THE FIFTH GRADE WITH KIDS YOUR OWN AGE? THEN WE CAN ALL TALK AGAIN.”

“I GUESS SO.” WHY WAS HE STILL LAUGHING? THIS GUY NEEDED TO GET OUT MORE

FATUMA STILL LOOKED WORRIED WHEN TALL SALAN LEFT. HASSAN LOOKED WORRIED TOO. AND ME?

I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO FEEL.

DAYS PASSED, AND DIDN’T SEE TALL SALAN. DIDN’T COME, AND DIDN’T COME, AND DIDN’T COME. “DON’T KNOW WHY BOTHERED TELLING ME TO TO SCHOOL IF WAS JUST GOING TO FORGET ABOUT ME ANYWAY.” “THIS GRAIN OF SAND IS YOU, OMAR.” THIS GRAIN OF SAND IS YOU, TALL SALAN, AND I’M KICKING FACE! RRRRRRRRGGHHH!!

“ARE YOU OK?”

“I GOT DUST IN MY EYES, THAT’S ALL”

“I BROUGHT YOU PRESENT. IT’S ALL ARRANGED. YOU CAN START SCHOOL TOMORROW… THE FIFTH GRADE. IF WANT TO, THAT IS.”

DID I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL?

“HASSAN? DO YOU THINK?”

BUT I CAN’T GET THE WORDS OUT. AND I KNOW HE CAN’T ANSWER ME ANYWAY.

“FATUMA? WHAT DO YOU THINK I SHOULD DO?”

“I’VE BEEN THINKING A LOT ABOUT THIS, OMAR. YOU ARE A BIG BOY NOW, AND I CANT MAKE THIS DECISION FOR YOU. IF IT IS GOD’S WILL THAT YOU SHOULD GO TO SCHOOL, THEN I WONT STAND IN HIS WAY. I THINK YOU SHOULD LOOK DEEP INSIDE YOURSELF AND SEE WHAT GOD IS TELLING YOU TO DO. IF THIS IS GOD’S WILL, THEN HE WILL MAKE EVERYTHING OK. DON’T WORRY. EVERYTHING WILL BE OK”

FATUMA IS ALWAYS SAYING “EVERYTHING WILL BE OK… BUT SOMETIMES THAT’S HARD TO BELIEVESOMETIMES WHEN I CANT SLEEP, OR WHEN SOMETHING’S BOTHERING ME.

I BARELY SLEPT THAT NIGHT, AS USUAL-BUT IT WASN’T JUST BECAUSE I WAS UNCOMFORTABLE. …I KNOW IT SOUNDS SILLY, BUT I GO OUTSIDE AND LOOK AT THIS ONE STAR. I DON’T REMEMBER MUCH FROM WHEN I WAS LITTLE. OR MAYBE, I DONT HAVE MUCH I WANT TO REMEMBER. I REMEMBER THIS STAR, THOUGH. MAYBE IT’S NOT EVEN A REAL MEMORY, BUT THIS STAR MAKES ME FEEL SAFE, LIKE MY MOM AND DAD ARE NEARBY. I USED TO ACTUALLY TALK TO THE STAR, WHICH SEEMS REALLY CHILDISH TO ME NOW. STILL, FEELING LIKE MY PARENTS ARE CLOSE MAKES IT EASIER TO MAKE BIG DECISIONS. IF I WENT TO SCHOOL, ID ONLY BE AWAY FROM HASSAN FOR A FEW HOURS. I’D COME RIGHT HOME. BUT… MY MOM THOUGHT SHE WOULD COME HOME AGAIN TOO. I FELT TORN IN HALF. SHOULD I GO TO SCHOOL? OR SHOULD I STAY WITH MY FAMILY? I DIDN’T HEAR AN ANSWER FROM THE STARS, OF COURSE JUST THE FARAWAY CRY OF HYENAS. I THINK I KNOW WHAT MY PARENTS WOULD SAY IF THEY COULD. THEY’D SAY MY MOST IMPORTANT JOB IS TO TAKE CARE OF MY BROTHER. BUT WHAT IF SALAN IS RIGHT? WHAT IF SCHOOL IS THE BEST WAY TO TAKE CARE OF HIM? THE TRUTH IS…I REALLY WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL I WANT TO GO SO BADLY IT HURTS. BUT I’M SCARED.