Surviving Tabora
Home was a peaceful place for most of us, but in my ride there was no place to call home. So don’t be afraid as I tell you my journey… no wait wrong word I would say, nightmare. It all started like this, I saw the orangish, brown rust tint of the letter T bulging out of the sign as we rumble down the road. ‘KAMBI TABORA’ which means ‘camp tabora’ in english which is a popular town overtaken by those republicans. Bump, rattle shake are the only noises we hear when we enter. In my ears I sense a cry throughout this filthy dump, a cry so emotional it would make you feel pain for your own being. My focus is snapped in half by the piercing roar of the fiery guards. “Off the truck now!” The guard screeches with his automatic rifle gun pointed at our heads waiting for one of us to make a mistake. One by one I nervously wait for my name to be called that my hands are so clammy it is like a pond of water in my hands. “Truvor!? Truvor!” the guard screamed in our ears that it felt the whole world shook. I was pushed and shook of the truck as a hot beam of light was pressed into my hand and it read ‘C-2356’ the pain increasing as we trudged down the mucky road. The anger in my body rushed threw me as it camouflaged the pain that hurt so bad. As my ashy feet that looked like rocks stumbled along with the rest of my group there was a sense of someone lurking over my shoulder. But I knew if I looked what I was leaving behind I might become that too, forgotten, lost and lose all hope of getting out of this cage of corruption. “Psst, psst” a woman that could be mistaken as a mouse reached for my hand. As I felt the warmth that she carried I felt her empathy for me as I was three times younger. I broke our bondings as I knew the lion lurking for its prey was near. “You sluggish men on the right and you lollygagging women to the left, and you filthy little pests untangle from your mothers and center yourselves.” The guard roared and let his tantrum loose at us as we formed three clusters. I felt like a penguin squished in that you could hear the other person's pulse. The woman were sent to group A were I smelt an unusual burning aroma; the kids were sent to facility B were they were beat for walking slower than the person behind them, and any male over the age of 12 was sent to group C, and let me tell you this: It was not pretty. Beds were not present, just piles upon piles of haystacks. Once the day was over I was assigned the bed to the right of a man with yellow fever, and don’t panic just yet we are on the same haystack. Eww. “Rollcall now all of you dump bags UP UP, I will give you to the count of three--” We all scrambled out of our makeshift sleeping areas and exited the huts. BOOM was the only sound I heard as I launched out of the hut. BOOM, again- BOOM a third time, the guard came out and spat in our faces as his ivory necklace swayed back and forth. My heart trembled as I …show more content…
At 9:46 tonight I will escape, 9:45 is coming in quick and the ground around me is hopping around as if it had butterflies in my stomach. I race out of my hut and run to the border. Crunch is the only sound I hear and I can’t tell if it’s me or the guards. As I go to the border I feel someone breathing down my throat, I swiftly throw my rock at the triggered wire as it shocked the whole camp up. I swiftly slid to the other side of the camp and the woman left a tunnel for me through the ground and covered it with sticks and stones. As I saw the wonders of the outside world that I had been missing for 3 years; in the background my ears blacked out the other noises of the guards tearing others apart and screams and sobs of the weepers. Then all was silent, just me and the world. I had to find my way home; home a word I couldn’t use for the longest of
Home was a peaceful place for most of us, but in my ride there was no place to call home. So don’t be afraid as I tell you my journey… no wait wrong word I would say, nightmare. It all started like this, I saw the orangish, brown rust tint of the letter T bulging out of the sign as we rumble down the road. ‘KAMBI TABORA’ which means ‘camp tabora’ in english which is a popular town overtaken by those republicans. Bump, rattle shake are the only noises we hear when we enter. In my ears I sense a cry throughout this filthy dump, a cry so emotional it would make you feel pain for your own being. My focus is snapped in half by the piercing roar of the fiery guards. “Off the truck now!” The guard screeches with his automatic rifle gun pointed at our heads waiting for one of us to make a mistake. One by one I nervously wait for my name to be called that my hands are so clammy it is like a pond of water in my hands. “Truvor!? Truvor!” the guard screamed in our ears that it felt the whole world shook. I was pushed and shook of the truck as a hot beam of light was pressed into my hand and it read ‘C-2356’ the pain increasing as we trudged down the mucky road. The anger in my body rushed threw me as it camouflaged the pain that hurt so bad. As my ashy feet that looked like rocks stumbled along with the rest of my group there was a sense of someone lurking over my shoulder. But I knew if I looked what I was leaving behind I might become that too, forgotten, lost and lose all hope of getting out of this cage of corruption. “Psst, psst” a woman that could be mistaken as a mouse reached for my hand. As I felt the warmth that she carried I felt her empathy for me as I was three times younger. I broke our bondings as I knew the lion lurking for its prey was near. “You sluggish men on the right and you lollygagging women to the left, and you filthy little pests untangle from your mothers and center yourselves.” The guard roared and let his tantrum loose at us as we formed three clusters. I felt like a penguin squished in that you could hear the other person's pulse. The woman were sent to group A were I smelt an unusual burning aroma; the kids were sent to facility B were they were beat for walking slower than the person behind them, and any male over the age of 12 was sent to group C, and let me tell you this: It was not pretty. Beds were not present, just piles upon piles of haystacks. Once the day was over I was assigned the bed to the right of a man with yellow fever, and don’t panic just yet we are on the same haystack. Eww. “Rollcall now all of you dump bags UP UP, I will give you to the count of three--” We all scrambled out of our makeshift sleeping areas and exited the huts. BOOM was the only sound I heard as I launched out of the hut. BOOM, again- BOOM a third time, the guard came out and spat in our faces as his ivory necklace swayed back and forth. My heart trembled as I …show more content…
At 9:46 tonight I will escape, 9:45 is coming in quick and the ground around me is hopping around as if it had butterflies in my stomach. I race out of my hut and run to the border. Crunch is the only sound I hear and I can’t tell if it’s me or the guards. As I go to the border I feel someone breathing down my throat, I swiftly throw my rock at the triggered wire as it shocked the whole camp up. I swiftly slid to the other side of the camp and the woman left a tunnel for me through the ground and covered it with sticks and stones. As I saw the wonders of the outside world that I had been missing for 3 years; in the background my ears blacked out the other noises of the guards tearing others apart and screams and sobs of the weepers. Then all was silent, just me and the world. I had to find my way home; home a word I couldn’t use for the longest of