MY CHILDHOOD (LIFE IN THE VILLAGE) THIS IS THE SAMPLE OF MY LIFE STORY: This is my life story. It is one of the stories an owner has to tell himself. It is a story about a young man from South Sudan and how he became a part of Sudan's history. To understand whom I've become. You should know a few things about where I came from, who I am, and what I went through to get where I am today. My full name is Mariak Machok Chuor. However, my western world friends called me “MC” for short, because some of them don't know how to pronouns my African name properly. They also called me "LOST BOY of SUDAN." I was born in a small village called Maper Akuer, (Twic Mayardit County) Warrap State in South Sudan around 1984. I am not really sure the actual date of my birth because there wasn't a record for my birthday at that time. To be honest with you, I don’t have a birth certificate because I wasn't born in the hospital. I don't have a birth certificate because Arab militias have chased my mother away from the village to the bush. For that reason, I was born under a big thorn tree, which I don’t even know its name in English. In fact, I was born under a tree, lived under a tree, and I am struggling now not to die under a tree. My mother only remembered the year of my birth because that was a year Khartoum government's militias attacked my village and killed my uncle and his four children. In the village, many people remembered the year of birth by events that had occurred. My mother told me that I was born in hide out spot while people were fighting; and that why she names me “Mariak”, which means, “Born in the struggle.” It is funny how my life and my name have a similarity. Throughout my childhood to adulthood, I have experienced nothing but pain and struggle. I was born in the bush while my father was in the boot camp for training in little town called Bilpam near Ethiopia. My father was drafted to attend Sudan People Liberation Army (SPLA) in late1983, while my mother was pregnant with me. My father didn't return from Bilpam until 1986. He was deployed again at Aweil north in 1987. We moved from Twic to Aweil and stay there about three years before we moved back to Twic. Life was very hard in Aweil because my father was always at the front line fighting for our freedoms. The life in the village wasn't that great, but it was enjoyable. I have great memories from my village. I still remembered the good memories of swimming in sandy pools, drinking warm milk straight from a cow's udder with my brothers, sisters, and friends. Those kinds of beautiful memories keep my spirits high during some of my life's darkest moments. My origins are to be found in the humblest of many circumstances. In my village, I used to live in the huts made of mud and grass. Each of the huts was crafted by the hands of my mother, from earth molded into a brick and grass roof. In the living hut, which I shared with my brothers and sister; chairs were made from wooden sticks and cow skins. However, there were no beds or tables. Everybody within my family slept on the floor with mats made of bundles' grass. The roofs of the hut were also made of bundles of dried grass tied together with rope tied to the big poles. If you ever lived or visited one of African village, then you will know exactly what I am talking about. On the day of my birth 1984, my home in the Maper village in Twic Mayardit County, consisted of two mud huts: one for sleeping, one for cooking and other for storing grains was burned down to ashes by Khartoum government's Arab militias from the north. I have suffered because Khartoum government's militias have abused my human values and violated my human rights before I was even born. Being a lost boy had been painful. It was just the beginning, the struggle continued...what happened next made me write this book. Find out!
About Mariak Chuor