![]() |
||||
| FOS Newsletter Fall 2007 |
![]() |
|||
|
||||
|
||||
"He sounded like me," said Acuek. "That's why I believed." In the nine years since he was given refugee status in the United States, Acuek has been yearning to find a link to his relatives. Geu's call three years ago gave him a glimmer of hope that they will meet again. Now Acuek is raising money to return to Sudan to reunite with Geu and perhaps find the rest of his family. "I don't sleep," said Acuek, who has raised $2,000 so far. "I've been hoping that I'm going to go and meet him." Acuek is known as one of the "lost boys of Sudan," a name given to thousands of youths who were displaced when Arab and Islamic government forces from the north invaded that African nation's southern villages during the second civil war. More than 4,000 children, including Acuek, resettled in the United States as refugees. "The reason we were called 'lost boys' is not because we were lost physically or mentally. It's because we lost our families," said Deng Nyuon, a graduate student at Boston College who helped Acuek connect with his brother. After their arrival in the United States, many of the "lost boys" focused on finishing high school and college - impossible goals in their homeland, said Pam Bartter, a board member of Friends of the Sudanese, a Lincoln-based nonprofit that is helping Acuek raise funds for his trip. That is the case with Acuek, who is preparing to graduate from Lasell College next month. He has seen other refugees return to Sudan to reunite with their families and is eager to do the same. "I think it's huge for him," Bartter said. "All the Sudanese are kind of brothers to each other. Aside from that, he's essentially alone unless he can locate family back home. . . . This will give him closure and peace of mind." Bol Riiny, said reuniting with his family last year helped him fill a void. The former "lost boy" traveled to Sudan, where villagers slaughtered cows and goats for a joyous feast in honor of his return. After the war, Riiny's family members had found themselves scattered to refugee camps in different parts of Africa - his brothers in Uganda, his sisters in Ethiopia, his parents in the Congo - and eventually returned to their village in Sudan. He saw them at the feast for the first time in nearly 20 years. "When I found out that they were still alive, I couldn't imagine what it would be like to meet them again," Riiny said. "To see all of them, it was a big shock." Villagers in Anyidi, where Acuek is also from, flocked to Nyuon's family compound to ask questions about the boys they, too, had lost after the war. After the elders spoke, a tall, soft-spoken young man got his chance. He told Nyuon that he wants to find his brother in the United States whose name is Kuol. Looking at the young man - the ears, the nose, and the face - Nyuon knew he had found Geu. "Descriptionwise I was not surprised," said Nyuon, a close friend of Acuek. "He resembles Kuol, only he's a little taller." Nyuon brought Geu to Uganda and arranged for the phone call. Acuek, 27, last saw his younger brother when they were both children in Anyidi in southern Sudan. The northern soldiers attacked as Acuek was playing in the playground. Acuek ran toward his house but found no one. So he kept running. He joined up with young boys from other villages, and they spent months wandering in the bush, braving extreme hunger, disease, and even lions. Some died. They were eventually taken to refugee camps, first in Ethiopia and then in Kenya, where Acuek spent nine years before he was sent to the United States. Through his ordeal, Acuek never forgot about his family. In Ethiopia he longed for his mother's hushed lullabies, his father's voice, and his baby brother's smiling face. Now, he thinks about Geu and his family often. He is not certain his parents are alive. "You have to have your family," he said. "I just want to know who they are. I just want to find them." |
||||
![]() |
|
|||
As his village burned at the hands of invaders from the north, a casualty of a brutal civil war, Acuek was forced to run for his life, not knowing if he would ever see his family again. A young boy without a home, he survived against all odds and eventually came to America, where he has thrived. Now, as a young man, he yearns to return to his native land in the hopes of recapturing a piece of the life that was taken from him 17 years ago. After the attack, Acuek joined with others from his tribe, the Dinka, and headed into the bush. They wandered for weeks with little food, many with no shoes or clothing, and some did not survive. Eventually, he said, the group met up with some soldiers from the south, who escorted them to Ethiopia. There they lived in a refugee camp for about a year. Still, he held out hope of finding his parents. Whenever southern Sudanese soldiers would come through the camp, he would ask if they knew where his parents were and they would always reply, “Your family is back home,” but in his heart, he did not believe they really knew. When violence broke out in Ethiopia, the refugees were forced to flee once again. “But there was nowhere to run to, so we had to run back to Sudan. By that time, it was even more difficult than when we left,” he said of the war-torn country. The refugees settled in a small area just beyond the Ethiopian border. It was the rainy season but their only shelter was the trees. Food was scarce — most had been left behind at the camp in the haste to escape the violence there. Some risked their lives trying to retrieve the food, but many were caught and killed. After several months, the northern Sudanese soldiers drove them off and the refugees began another “long walk.” Fearing they would be captured by the pursuing soldiers, the refugees attempted to cross what Acuek called “the seven-day desert” from southern Sudan into Kenya. With no shoes to protect their feet from the scorching sand, they could walk only after the sun had set. The wanderers may not have survived had it not been for the arrival of the Red Cross, who met them in the desert with water and brought the rest of the way by truck. Once in Kenya, they were placed in the Kakuma refugee camp, where Acuek would spend the next nine years. Life in Kenya was better than in Ethiopia, he said, but it was still harsh. It was very windy and hot and there was not enough food, he said. The United Nations organized the young refugees into schools, providing them with their first real chance at education, but Acuek had difficulty focusing in school when mere survival was a daily struggle. “When we had nothing to eat or felt angry inside, we would just grab a soccer ball and go and play,” he said. “That’s what helped me to pass all those years in Kenya.” After nine years at Kakuma, Acuek’s name was called to go to the United States. “I did not believe it was true until I stepped on the plane in Nairobi,” he said. “Back home, everything is about America. … We just knew that America was a good place to go — you would not see people dying, or hating other people.” On June 27, 2001, he left Kenya, flying to the Netherlands before arriving in New York, where he would spend his first night in the U.S. The next day, he traveled to Boston where he was placed in an apartment in Roxbury with six other Sudanese, including his friend, Charles, who had lived with him at Kakuma. After several months, Acuek and Charles and another refugee, Peter, were given the chance to live in Lincoln through a special program offered by local nonprofit, Friends of the Sudanese. The three began school at Lincoln-Sudbury Regional High School. Acuek said he was worried about how he would fit in, looking different than everyone else and speaking the language, but that both students and teachers quickly made him feel welcome. “It was very exciting. I was happy,” he said. “I was still thinking about my family … but I thought this was the beginning of a better life … so I would just leave the pain of not seeing my family inside of me.” “When I look at that first year in America, I was changing,” he added. “I was trying to forget.” Acuek was eager for the chance to play soccer again, but was told he was too old to play. Refusing to give up, he wrote a letter to the Massachusetts Interscholastic Athletic Association (MIAA) and was given a hearing. “I explained to them, I love soccer. And I’m not that good, but it’s one of the things that helped me get through,” he said. He was granted a waiver to join the L-S soccer team and in his first year, he was the second leading scorer as the team won the state championship. But even more than his exploits on the soccer field, Acuek is proud that he earned his diploma, graduating high school in 2005. Another milestone came in 2007 when Acuek officially became a U.S. citizen. “I thought, ‘OK. Now I’m an American. It was just yesterday that I came from Sudan and now I’m an American.’ I never thought it was going to happen,” he said. “It felt like God was rewarding me, making something that was impossible possible.” This spring, Acuek will achieve another dream when he graduates from college. Majoring in sports management at Lassell College in Newton, he hopes to work in an athletic department or perhaps coach soccer. But there is still one more dream he hopes to realize, one that he has never let go of — finding his family. In 2006, a friend traveled back to Sudan where he met Acuek’s younger brother, Geu. The friend brought Geu to Uganda and put him on the phone to talk to his older brother for the first time. “We just talked,” said Acuek, who does not remember much about the brother he last saw as an infant in their village of Anyidi. Acuek said he does not believe his parents are still alive, but that he wants badly to visit Geu and find whatever other family he may have in Sudan. For years, he had kept his feelings about his family inside, but now he cannot stop thinking about it, he said. “It’s hard for me to go to bed. I just lie there, sometimes until four in the morning — everything is just going through my mind,” he said. As a full-time student, Acuek has not had time for a job and what little money he has earned has gone to support himself. With no savings, he has turned to the community, writing a letter asking for help to send him back to Sudan this summer. Acuek said he is not sure how much money he will need, beyond paying for the flight, because he does not know what he will find when he gets there. With all the opportunities he has been given, Acuek said he feels a responsibility to help his family have a better life and that he is prepared to give them money for education or even bring them to the U.S. if he can. “In my heart, I would do anything, if I went back there and found my relatives, to either bring them here or support them there,” he said. “I’ll just go and try to find my brother and see what happens.” Tax-deductible contributions can be made by writing a check to “Friends of the Sudanese” and sending it to: Friends of the Sudanese, P.O. Box 177, Lincoln, MA 01773, attn: “Send Kuol to Africa.” Refugee Crisis in Darfur |
||||
FOS Launches New Sudanese Healthcare Initiative
FOS board member Cathy George with Ajok Bul, daughter of Lincoln |
|
|||
UMass Graduate
|
|
|||
First Annual Think Globally, Ride Locally
|
|
|||
College Assistance Program Profile: Kuol Acuek |
|
|||
Ayuen Deng celebrates his graduation from Worcester State College with a BS in chemistry in June.
|
||||
| New FOS Website! |
|
|||
| Thank You! |
|
|||
|
||||
| We need your support! | FOS needs your support in order to continue to support these young men and women while they finish college. |
|||
Do you have a car that would be more valuable to you as a tax deduction? Support FOS, get a deduction, and have someone haul your car away—all at the same time! For more information, email us at pam@friendsofsudanese.org. Our team welcomes volunteers! |
||||
welcome | programs | events | news | new citizens | sudan report | CAP profile | charles | contact us | links Friends of the Sudanese (FOS) |