It was about 8:00 p.m., when people were performing the last prayer of the day. The imam was oblivious to what was going on until it was too late. He stood in front of everyone, facing east, vigorously reciting a long sura, and once prayer had started, no one was allowed to say anything that was not related to the performance of the prayer.
Unexpectedly one night. There hadn’t even been any rumors that the rebels were as close as fifty miles from Kamator. They just walked into the village from out of nowhere.
Since the attack was sudden, but instead had to run into the bush alone. That night I slept by myself, leaning on a tree
In the morning I found Kaloko, and together we returned to the village. The semi-burnt body of the imam, as Kaloko had described it, was there in the village square. I could see the pain he had felt by looking at the way his teeth were bared.
We stumbled across a family we knew and they let us hide with them in the bush by the swamp. We stayed with them for two weeks, two weeks that felt like months
I became frustrated with living in fear. so I decided to go somewhere where at least there was some peace.I had nothing to carry, so I filled my pockets with oranges, tied the laces of my tattered crapes, and I was ready to go. I said goodbye to everyone and headed west.when i left I felt as if I was being wrapped in a blanket of sorrow. I instantly started to cry. it took five days for me to but i finally found the sea.