Changing The World.

A couple weeks ago my group took off midday to interview a Sudanese refugee. As we walked into his office building we were giddy with nervousness. We fidgeted in the elevator, and timidly knocked on his office door. We were prepared with a page and a half of questions to ask him, and once the video camera was set up and a designated note-taker was appointed we began our interview.
Majur Malou arrived in New York City in 1995. His parents are not quite sure when he was born, so when he came to America he got to pick his own birthday: May 25th 1970 (an important date in Sudanese history). He began with telling us his memories he still has from when he was a child. He told us how his first priority in life was to get an education. He spoke of a dream he had as a child: a dream where he imagined himself becoming someone of importance someday. He became the very first person in his family to go to school; and once he got to America he was persistent in finding a job, and ended up as the director of St. Luke’s Refugee Network. He also mentioned that he is now eligible to get a license to become a pilot.
He then began to tell us about the violence he experienced in Sudan. Things such as the first time he saw a man get shot.
“The man was shot in the chest. The bullet penetrated his cheat and came out his back. But, amazingly, the hole from where the bullet entered was smaller; the place where the bullet went out was huge,” he stated.
He continued to tell shocking stories about the things he experienced in Sudan. He told us devastating facts such as how children kill people to pass the time, as a daily activity. How when in his refugee camp in Kenya, the Somalians (who the Sudanese shared the camp with) would call him derogatory terms and be violent with him due to the fact that he was Christian and they were Muslim. But the thing that had the most impact on me was when he showed us the scars that grace his arms.
“I was detained by the government. I was beaten by the government. I was put in a Ghost House. You know, a place where they torture people. I’ve been tortured.”
At this point, about two thirds of the way through the interview, tears spilled from Malou’s eyes. The room fell silent as he wiped he eyes and nose on a tissue. Tears were present in all of our eyes at this time, and we had to work hard to press on with the interview.
“If you want to help the people of Darfur, if you want to help the Sudanese people, you need to write a petition to the president [of the United States]… It will take all of us to change the world.”
These were some of Malou’s final words to us. It left me with an eerie feeling when I left his office after thanking him repeatedly for his time. As we road down the elevator, I tried to think; think about all he had said to us in the past hour. Thoughts about how fortunate I am and how motivated I am now, to try and change the world.