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a story
by Fiona
   ' I tell you , it has never been easy to leave one's homeland to come to another country especially when there are so many differences in language and culture '  

I have experienced homesickness, loneliness and missing my dear grandma and other relatives in general. Since I was told to come to Australia I knew immediately that I would sincerely miss my dear friends and my homeland because I was coming to a strange country and I was worried about my natural colour black as there are whites every where. The reason that I left my dear country was because of war. I couldn't imagine that I could survive at all but God is really great and that's why I believe in him.

In 1989 we had to leave our own town for a refuge camp because the rebels were fighting against the government of Sudan. The rebels were winning by then and many people were killed including my uncle and some neighbours as well. So we tried our level best to get out of the bloody town. We escaped from Torit to Pageri where we stayed only for two weeks. We had forgotten everything, we were trying to settle down again when the town became a bloody battle and many people were killed. As we moved we lost people we could do nothing. We who were alive had to keep moving remember from place to place on foot.

So we left Pageri to Nimuli where we stayed for one year. Again we heard bombs exploding, people on the street were killed and the rebels were after us. There was no hiding place for us. We had leave and we lost friends now and then.

People's or friend's dead bodies were eaten up by wild animals as it wasn't only rebels after us or killing. Some people were also killed by wild animals, epidemic diseases, malaria and dysentry because of eating unhealthy foods and for other reasons we lost most of the people on the way.
When we reached Nimuli we lived happily for two more years. We thought our grandma had died but she lived. She made her journey to a certain village where she lived happily. We were so happy to hear from her.

It was in the morning in 1992 and my father was a doctor. He was working and mother was a nurse and as we went to school the jet fighters came and bombed the town. People were running and kids lost their parents, some were killed when the bomb hit the school. Students were killed. The bomb also bombed the hospital. The sick, doctors and nurses were killed but some of them escaped. I thought my parents were killed too then I started praying to God, could I manage to take care of my younger sisters? That was the question to myself I was 12 yrs old. But my prayers were answered. I was surprised to see my parents and they were also surprised to see us.

On 10/12/92 we were brought to Uganda and my father left to Kenya because our younger brother was there. When the rebels heard that he went to Kenya they were after him. They thought that my father would spread their secret to Kenyan government because they were being helped by the Kenyan government they didn't want the Kenyan's to know that they were killing innocent people. But my father was on his way to Zimbabwe for further studies so he couldn't do that, he had no affairs or to be involved in their problem.

In 1994 my father wrote a letter that he was coming to see us because it had been a long time without him since he left in 1992. We were so excited to see our father again. When my father came to Uganda to see us we were really happy to see him again. Unfortunately the rebels were after him they paid Gold to the president of Uganda, so that they could arrest my father because it was illegal for the Sudanese solders to arrest some on e from other different country. So they came the next day we only stayed with our father for two days feeling fathers love.

The soldiers came at I O.OOpm they knocked at the door. My mother asked the men "Who are you?" They answered my mother "Uganda Police" Then mother opened the door for them. They rushed in and arrested my father. They asked my mother not to scream but my mother screamed so they started hitting both my mother and my father. While we were crying they took him back to Sudan and killed him. My mother reported to the U.N. and we cried for help so they prepared for us to come to Australia. We couldn't stay in that bloody city without our father and the Australians felt deep sympathy for us when they heard our story. So that's why we are in Australia. We thank those who prepared for us to come to Australia though we miss our country but at least we are safe.

To be a refugee is not an easy thing at all. You are always forced to be a
refugee. It is not that you like to be. but you are forced to. For you dad.

I would like to thank my late father, that we your children will never ever forget you for what great work you did for us. You cared for us, you loved us and worked for us. May God the father raise your soul in internal peace and may you rest in peace. We were not ready to say good-bye to you, we know you were forced to die, may your sins be forgiven. We also pray for you and we never forget you in our prayers. May your love still shine on us, your kids.

We shall be perfect as you expected us to be. In future.