A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier

Rap music saved Ishmael Beah’s life. 

In Sierra Leone, Africa, 12-year-old Ishmael and Junior Beah, along with a few friends, cherish their few American rap cassette tapes.  The boys memorize the lyrics, choreograph dance moves, practice their routine, and enter a talent show in the nearby town of Mattru Jong.  Walking the 16 miles from their own village of Mogbwemo, they arrive in Mattru Jong and settle down for the night at the home of a schoolmate.

That contest never happens.  In 1992 Sierra Leone is in the midst of a civil war and the rebels are attacking villages throughout the region.  Mogbwemo is attacked while Ishmael is in Mattru Jong  He and his brother anxiously watch the stream of survivors cross the river and enter the town, hoping to see their mother, father, and younger brother. However, as the days pass and the family never arrives, the boys have to flee the approaching rebels.

The brothers criss-cross the bush, hiding.  Once, they are captured by rebels looking for recruits and Ishmael is judged inadequate for soldier duty.  Before Beah can be shot, the rebels hear gunshots in the distance and flee; in the confusion Beah and his brother and friends scatter.  But one night, Ishmael and his brother are separated during an attack, and are never reunited. Alone, Ishmael spends several weeks in the forest before joining a second band of boys.

           

After ups and downs, the boys stumble into the arms of the army (ironically, not the rebel army, but the government soldiers) and are made to take up arms.  For over two years he fights, fueled by marijuana, cocaine mixed with gunpowder, images from Rambo and other war films shown nightly to bolster courage and violence, and migraine headaches. 

The narrative continues, covering a few more years, and eventually Beah escapes the army’s clutches and finds his way to America where he now lives and where he wrote his story.

I was first attracted to this novel because of the topic.  In 2007, one of our history teachers organized a showing of Invisible Children, a documentary about child soldiers in Uganda.  Focusing on one village, the documentary chronicles the lives of the children who nightly trek into the nearest large town to sleep because the rebel soldiers are known to attack the villages at night to steal the children.  In the morning, they walk home, only to return to town again at dusk.  I can’t forget the scene of one young man, tears rolling down his cheeks unchecked, sobbing loud and long for his dead brother.  He wanted to go to school, but couldn’t; his life was a constant hide-and-seek game with the rebels, trying to avoid the fate of his older brother.

           

I want my students to be exposed to stories like Invisible Children, and A Long Way Gone because the stories they tell are so very different from the typical American teenager’s story.  The school where I teach is in a rural community, but it is also a community full of commuters to California’s  Bay Area.  Many residents have very nice homes and a lot of disposable income and many of my students think little of the luxuries they enjoy.  Not only are most of them safe from physical harm, but they have a lot of their own spending money and a lot of freedom.  They have enough money to perhaps have their own car, buy the latest clothes, eat as much as they want (or more), and buy the latest video game whenever it comes out.  They can play the warrior in that video game, killing the enemy with a chain saw, all from their safe, well-stocked bedrooms.  I want my students to have a wider understanding of the world.  At the least, I hope they will become more aware of how blessed their lives are; at the most, I hope they will see that they are part of the world community and learn to use their time, resources and creativity to help change the wrongs in the world. 

As a parent and a teacher, I am often alarmed by American society’s desire to see violence.  I am not one to advocate the outlawing of rock lyrics or violent video games (No one ever points out the millions of people who play these games and DON’T go on to become criminals!), but I have noticed a trend among young people to think violence is “cool.”  When I show a film in class, many students are bored by the more subtle character development and plot twists, but sit up and pay attention to the action and violence. 

Beah tells the following story as a preface to his narrative:
           “My high school friends [in the US] have begun to suspect I haven’t told them the full story of my life.

     “Why did you leave Sierra Leone?”

     “Because there is a war."

     “Did you witness some of the fighting?”

     “Everyone in the country did.”
     “You mean you saw people running around with guns and shooting each other?”

     “Yes, all the time.”

     “Cool.”

      I smile a little.

      “You should tell us about it sometime.”

      “Yes, sometime.”       (3)

The teen boys may think that it's cool to hear the stories, but Beah knows the reality of living them.