I’m sure most Australians know of Sudan or have heard of it; sometimes for the wrong reasons but mostly about its people.
Sudan is where I was born and lived my early childhood until I was 9 years old. Attending school and church are the main things that come to mind when I think about my childhood.
My family was very well known and regarded in the community. My father William was a principal of the local school I attended and was always involved in Sunday masses at church whether it be reading the bible or collecting money.
Our family was much smaller than what it is now and included my oldest brother Peter, Augustino and younger sister Teresa. We all went to school except for Teresa who was only a baby. In Sudan school starts at 7.00am and finishes at 12.00pm which meant we’d get home in the early afternoon. All we would do is play soccer with the other kids from the neighborhood. We’d never get home from playing soccer until dusk and I remember those times well because of the contrast between the red dirt and the bright pink sunset. It reminds of pink custard in a way.
My older brothers always remind me how cheeky I used to be when I was young. They say I always started fights with the older kids but it was only because I knew they’d look after me!
Our home in Sudan was pretty big. It was a single storey mud-brick place with four bedrooms and a living area. It was fenced off all the way around because we had chickens and pigeons in the front courtyard. I always got up early in the morning to help mum and dad feed the birds with seed.
There was a little classroom in a separate part of the house where dad used to help us with our homework. I didn’t like it very much because he made me do extra maths which is my least favourite subject. He always used to say to us, and still does, “If you want to be good at something, you have to work hard for it.”
Looking back on it, I had a pretty safe childhood considering the environment I grew up in and compared to most kids in Sudan. There were some children who didn’t have parents to look after them and others had been orphaned due to their parents not having enough money to raise them. In contrast, my parents protected and provided for us extremely well. I can’t really remember being exposed to the civil war or much violence. Although there was one incident where I witnessed the police arrive at the day markets in big lorries and destroy all the stalls. They arrested some stallholders and beat some locals up for no reason at all.
One day I would love to go back to Sudan and see my cousins and relatives. I have never really met any of them, only spoken to them over the phone.
