Shufto: My Unique Journey from Sudan, Egypt, to the U.S.A

By Olwak Jenaro

"Shufto, shufta, shuno." Translation? "Seen it, what have you seen?"

Shufto follows a young man's journey from a small schoolhouse in Khartoum to living in a bustling city in Egypt, until eventually, after many struggles and hardships, making his way to New York. With a civil war raging out of control in the southern

• Language: English
• Publisher: New Degree Press
• Release date: Apr 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781637302798

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Shufto

Shufto

My Unique Journey from Sudan, Egypt, to the U.S.A

Olwak Shufto Jenaro

New Degree Press

Copyright © 2021 Olwak Shufto Jenaro

All rights reserved.

Shufto

My Unique Journey from Sudan, Egypt to the U.S.A

ISBN

978-1-63676-835-9 Paperback

978-1-63730-207-1 Kindle Ebook

978-1-63730-279-8 Ebook

Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Reasons Why

First Memory

Shigla Haj Yousif

American Stories

First Day of School

Troubled Child

Lasting Impressions

My Mother and I

Young Rope Master

Goodbye, Khartoum

Egypt

Mom’s Accident

United States of America

Buffalo, New York

Like Weather, People Change

High School

The College Process

Traveling 2012

Juba to Malakal

Conclusion

Appendix

To my mother, I dedicate this book to you because there is no one on this planet who could’ve put up with me the way you have all of my life. For that, you deserve all my thanks and gratitude. You raised me to be honest and true to myself no matter the circumstance and have always been supportive. You’ve sacrificed so much for our family over the years, and you have not allowed those sacrifices to change who you are. Thank you for remaining true to yourself and to all of us, and thank you for always being the sweet, loving, caring, gentle soul you are.

Acknowledgments

To all seven of my siblings, thank you for helping me learn how to be a big brother. Life hasn’t been easy on any of us growing up but know you’ve inspired me to be a better person. As the oldest, know I have often thought about how my actions may serve as a good or bad example for all of you. To Aken and Moum in particular, please know I have tried to do my best as your big brother in Sudan, in Egypt, as well as here in the US.

To the rest of my family and friends, I believe it is by design each and every one of you came into my life at the exact moment you were meant to be there. It was not by accident each and every one of you influenced my life the way you all have. Thank you to all my family:

Abas Omar, Abuna, Fr. Ronald Sajdak, Amer Lam, Anders Gunnersen, André Sadoff, Ann Marie Szpakowska, Ann Marie Szpakowska, Anthony Christiano, Benane Awejok Akurkuch, Benjamin Macaluso, Charity Niphong, Cynthia Schilling, Emmanuel Obunadike, Eric Koester, George Theodor, Greg Bennett, James Budu, Jean D’amour Boyi, Jebeh Sambola, Jessica Smith, Jordan Kawaya, Kevin Mckenzie, Leyla Fagory, Liana Wingenbach, Mahawa Osei, Mary Tilahunm, Mimi Abdalla, Minh Le, Nancy Nsengiyumva, Nate Buckley, Niveen Laa, Nyibol Deng, Okach Ojway, Oscar Brown, Oter Amon, Paige Buxbaum, Rahim Melon, Rehan Cyer, Roberto Cruz, ROTA Development Group Inc., Rout Niel, Sasha Waskosky, Sebet Thon

Introduction

Preface

I decided to write this book to share my story with the world, a story filled with struggle, hardships, and so many twists and turns I lost count. It is also a story full of hope, blessings, sheer luck, and life-changing moments. For good or bad, "Shufta, meaning I’ve seen," and experienced so many things over the first thirteen years of my life. It took a long time to understand and learn how to process most of it. When I finally did, I was a refugee kid living halfway across the world in a completely foreign land. I had no idea whether I would ever have the chance to lay eyes on my birthplace again.

CHAPTER 1

Reasons Why

We often hear about the horrors in refugee camps and the terrible wars driving people out of their homes. We see pictures and videos of displaced people in refugee camps on foreign soil, living in unbelievable conditions no human being should ever have to endure. In the 1990s, most of those photos depicted children and women living in overcrowded camps, such as Kakuma in Northwestern Kenya. Mothers, children, and the elderly often lived together in small makeshift tents with no running water or indoor plumbing. Orphans who had lost parents, siblings, and other relatives in Sudan’s civil war were often pictured in the littered streets of Kakuma and in other refugee camps such as Pugnido Refugee Camp in Ethiopia.¹

Those were often the images that came to mind for most people wherever they thought about refugees in the 1990s. Unfortunately, very little has changed over the years, and the number of refugees and displaced people remains high. In fact, there are now more refugees and displaced people around the world then there were over two decades ago. This is a direct result of the number of increased conflicts globally, particularly in the Middle East, the north, and parts of Sub-Saharan Africa, as well as Southeast Asia. What we don’t often see is photos of displaced people who do not necessarily look like the typical refugee. Although it is absolutely imperative to continue bring attention to the most affected refugee populations, it is also important to shed light on the different conditions and experiences all refugees face worldwide.

To shine the necessary spotlight on the many conflicts around the world continuing to produce more and more refugees, we all have a responsibility to speak up. People and governments around the world can influence and help prevent many of the conflicts producing refugees. Yes, it is no easy task, but if we all did our part, it is possible to limit and reduce the number of people (often civilians) affected by senseless violence throughout many parts of the world. The reality is—the people often suffering the most and experiencing the worst horrors of war—are always civilians. Women, children, and the elderly.

Telling my story is one action helping shine light on one part of the refugee experience. My experience is quite different from the war ravaged one regularly seen on the news. This other refugee experience also has devastating effects on many families, individuals, and their communities. People felt they had no other option but to leave their homes, families, and everything else behind in hopes of a better life elsewhere. Their stories are worth sharing, and that is the refugee journey my family and I experienced.

Another reason I felt compelled to write this book was for myself. I’ve struggled from time to time with trying to understand and make sense of parts of my life. A deep reflection into my childhood and into my past experiences seemed to be the best course of action to help me process and work through those challenges. As I revisited parts of my past and recalled childhood memories, I began to realize some of those childhood experiences may have been traumatic in nature but were never acknowledged or properly addressed. This was the main reason I titled the book SHUFTO.

Shufto is an Arabic word which means seen it. This word is the best representation for my story, not only because it is befitting of my personal journey, but because it also happens to be my name. Yes, I said my name. It is in fact a very unusual name, probably in every language known to man. Nonetheless, it is a name given to me from birth by my creative mother. Imagine growing up with such a name in an environment that does not consider bullying to be a serious problem. Imagine having to live with, and constantly deal with, the reality everyone thinks your name is some kind of joke. Imagine always being asked to explain the meaning behind it at the age of five or six, as if you were in consultation with your parents and had a vote on the decision. Imagine trying to understand at such a young age what could have possibly pushed your mother to think that was a good decision. Imagine constantly wondering, Why? Why me?

As terrible as it was growing up with the name Shufto, it wasn’t my legal name. On paper and to the world outside of my neighborhood, my official name is Olwak. It is my given Cøllø name. Cøllø. also known as Shilluk, is my native language, and the name Olwak has prominence in my family. The name is derived from the Cøllø word "lwak," which can be described as a large open barn where cattle are kept. In Cøllø culture, similar to most South Sudanese cultures, it is common practice to name children after grandparents and elders in the family.

I was named after my grandfather’s elder brother, a beloved and well-respected member of our community. Being named after Grandpa Olwak is meaningful and an honor. It always made me feel a sense of connection to him in spirit and gave me a sense of responsibility as well, a sense of responsibility to live up to his legacy, and to always be a unifying figure and proctor to my family similar to a lwak. Subconsciously, I think I’ve always relied on the strong meaning behind my name and often used it as a source to guide me in the right direction in life.

When I reflect on different stages in my life, I realized there were often very special people by my side. Individuals and groups have played pivotal roles guiding and helping to take care of me throughout the years. Chief amongst them is my mother, grandparents, other family members especially when I was a child. Later on, I had close friends and mentors who have changed my life for the better, and I consider all of them to be heaven-sent. Without them, there is no telling how my life would have turn out. As a result of their collective influences in my life, I owe each and every one of them a great deal for their guidance and personal investment in me.

I attribute a huge part of the reason I’m passionate about my work in the community, especially with young people, to be a result of that personal experience. To start your life in a difficult poverty-stricken environment and survive through years of struggle and uncertainty can test anyone’s faith. It can also seem hopeless. But to find yourself one day presented with an opportunity to make the best of what life has to offer, and to be surrounded my people wishing nothing but the best for you is powerful and life-changing to say the least.

In this life, each and every one of us has a purpose or a calling. You may not discover that purpose early on in life, and it may take years or decades to figure it out as it does for some people. The journey to discover this calling can take many paths for different people. However, not everyone is fortunate enough to choose their own path. Throughout most of the world, the opportunity to pursue dreams and goals is a privilege afforded to few. Nonetheless, this does not mean it is impossible for others to find ways to overcome those challenges and limitations.

There are people born with an innate ability to pinpoint their life’s purpose. They have absolute clarity and little doubt about what they believe is their purpose for being on this planet. Those individuals are often passionate about their professions and regard them as more than a simple job; it’s a calling. Doctors and nurses, for example, are at the top of that list; their purpose in society is to save lives. One cannot be an effective doctor, nurse, or any other healthcare professional if they do not believe in the importance of their work.

Teachers and educators are also amongst those groups of people. It takes a special kind of person to choose this career path. The best educators are the most effective because of their character and desire to help mold, influence, and shape the minds of their students. There are other attractive professions for such individuals with a clear view of their calling and purpose, such as in the sciences, religion, and public service.

Growing up in Khartoum, Sudan, I always believed my calling was clear. I thought my purpose in life was to follow in my father’s footsteps and study medicine to become a doctor. At the time, my father was pursuing his education as a medical student. I have to admit at the age of five or six, I was not well acclimated with the true meaning of life’s purpose. I did not quite understand nor care much about the process of achieving that goal. Like any child, I thought, If dad was doing it, so can I. That would surely make both of us happy. Well, it turned out life isn’t that simple, and it took a long time and a series of life-changing experiences to learn that important lesson.

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1 Africa’s biggest refugee camps, Africa Facts, Accessed March 5, 2021.

Chapter 2

First Memory

One of my first memories is from early childhood as a toddler. I don’t know how I’m still able to vividly recall this, but it is a dream-like memory that seems to be stamped into my memory bank. At the time, I couldn’t have been older than a year or two, but for some reason I’m able to recall the events particularly well. It all happened one calm summer evening in a town called Geigar.

I was born in Khartoum, the capital of modern day (North) Sudan in March of 1989. At the time, my grandparents lived in Geigar, a small town just north of Renk, Upper Nile State, in present-day South Sudan. My mother took me to visit my maternal grandparents for the first time so they could see their grandson and her firstborn. The journey from Khartoum to Geigar was a lengthy one and normally lasted a full day, often on an old vessel slowly working its way up the White Nile.

I can still remember details from a few of the other trips my mom and I later took to Geigar when I was a few years older. For instance, the calm, cool, and bright mornings we spent together drinking hot tea before reaching our destination. There were the smells and sounds of the water passing by from the river as we inched closer to the town. The sight of greenery and vegetation along the Nile banks never failed to indicate we were no longer in the hot deserts of Northern Sudan. It was always amazing to see Southern Sudan in those early morning hours and to see and hear birds chirping so loudly. During those mornings, the gentle breeze smelled and felt different, and my level of excitement always piqued because I knew in a few short hours we would finally be standing in my grandparents’ courtyard.

Out of all the visits to see my grandparents, the most interesting was the first one with my mother. The very first memory I have of it was of me sitting on the ground outside of a Cøllø (Shilluk) hut build out of mud with a roof made of straws. It was a warm, cloudy, but calm evening, typical during the rainy months between April or May through October. During that moment, I suddenly noticed the ground around turning dark, darker than the soil I was playing on just minutes before with my mom. The exact details and image of the house have blurred over the years, but what occurred next is the single reason this memory remains unforgettable.

My mother, my grandfather, and my grandmother, as well as a few other adults were outside in the courtyard with me. It’s difficult to recall all the faces, but I remember feeling their presence. There were other people inside the hut just yards away from where we were siting. At one point all the adults around me jumped up from their seats and ran toward the hut in a dramatic fashion. It happened so suddenly, as if there was an emergency. Everyone, including my mother, was gone in an instant and I was suddenly all alone. No one, not a single soul, was in sight. There wasn’t a dog, a goat, or even a single chicken running around, which was strange because my grandmother always kept some farm animal around.

As I sat there on the ground watching everyone including my mom run off to figure out what was going on, I noticed a large, unusual presence all around me. At first, I couldn’t figure out what this strange figure was, and I did not have any idea where it came from. All I knew was I could no longer see anyone or anything past this figure in front of my eyes blocking my view. I could no longer see the hut, and all I could hear were faint panicking voices off in the distance.

I was surrounded by a massive snake. It’s unclear whether it was a python, a boa, or a different subspecies of large snakes. I recall this massive reptile circled around me for some time, but I did not see its head or eyes, and I did not hear it hissing or making any other sounds. Time seemed to freeze, but after a while its presence seemed to slowly fade away, and before I noticed the figure completely vanished into thin air. The entire time, I did not move a muscle. I didn’t cry; I didn’t feel frightened; and in fact I think I was fascinated by this strange creature and had no idea I may have been in danger. I knew nothing of what was happening, and I knew nothing of what could happen next, and I certainly did not know my life could have ended at that very moment.

I cannot explain what was going through my mind. Perhaps I was curious about what I was seeing through my baby eyes, truly ignorant of the world around me and its dangers. Or it’s possible I had no clear concept of life or death, and therefore had no reason to be afraid. It’s also possible because I was alone with this creature, with no one else around and nothing disturbed or provoked it to react one way or another. Maybe I simply wasn’t the livestock it was seeking for dinner. I don’t know. What I do know is I am still alive and here now.

It’s strange my recollection of this memory still feels and seems so clear in my mind. I was so young, and yet I haven’t forgotten it. In all honesty, it is difficult to say for certain whether those series of events actually occurred the way I recall, or whether it was all a product of my imagination. It is possible those events were simply a part of some strange dream that somehow weaved itself into my memory bank, disguised as true memories or not. It’s also important to mention during that time in Geigar, I suffered a severe illness while in the care of my grandparents. My mother had returned to Khartoum for a short while days after we arrived, and I stayed behind with my grandparents. I’m sure I was happy to be there with Grandpa and Grandma, whom I adored, but my time with them in Geigar the first time around was short-lived according to Mom.

It is entirely possible and likely the severe illness I suffered may have been a near-death experience that manifested into this strange dream or memory. My mother later told me she was so afraid of losing me she rushed back to Geigar and brought me back to Khartoum for treatment. Every time I visited after that first experience, I seemed to always fall ill, which may have perpetuated this dream or memory of my close brush with death. The manifestation of the large snake may have been an attempt by my young mind to make sense of my dire situation, an attempt to understand the reality of this frightening life or death experience, forever burned into my existence.

Regardless of the true nature of this experience, I have a constant reminder I’m here in this world for a reason. I am reminded to be grateful and never take anything for granted. It goes without saying life can be unpredictable. For many people, everyday can be a challenge, and sometimes it is easy to lose sight of what’s important. We can easily get caught up in the cycle and routine of everyday life and never take the time to appreciate what matters to us most. Life, family, health, and wellness are important factors to keep in mind, and faith in the possibilities life has to offer should be at the top all of our lists.

I understand life is not always simple, and I understand things are not always as clear as we wish them to be. Yes, sometimes things happen in life we may not understand and cannot explain in simple terms, or at all. This does not mean we should ignore them and pretend they never happened. We should still try. We may not know the value of a major event or events at the moment it happens, but that does not mean it is meaningless. Overtime, we may begin to realize and understand the invaluable lessons embedded in those events. Be patient. Life may not provide a clear roadmap to follow your dreams and accomplish all the goals you set forth. This does not mean you should abandon them and give up on yourself, or the people you care about most. Have faith. Have faith in yourself, and have faith in God. He will see you through it all. Lastly, you may face a task that seems impossible to complete and can be overwhelming. This