The Last Sunset

By Isis; the Beautiful

How can four little children survive One of the deadly civil war ever fought?
Imagine experiencing civil war at the age of twelve years old without a father only a mother fighting for the survival of her four children. The struggles didnt end in Liberia and Ivory Coast, but the struggles continue in the United States of America. Looking back at the civil war, I can stilled hear the sound of guns, children crying, people scattered and running all over the place, bomb blasting, pregnant women crying for help, a cry of a helpless child been raped and other wicked things happening.
I strongly believed whatever challenges you are going through; life has its own twists and turns. Yours may not be the struggles of a civil war or being raped. But whatever obstacles you are face with, I pray and hope this book (my story) will encourage you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493191161

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Copyright © 2014 by Isis; the Beautiful.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 04/29/2014

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Contents

Preface

Chapter one Begging of civil war

Chapter two End of civil war

Chapter three Mother move to the United States

Chapter four Solomon’s death

Chapter five moving to the United States

Chapter seven First day in school

Chapter eight Moving to Ohio

Chapter nine Last day in Ohio

A letter to the world:

Preface

Liberian civil war

I MAGINE EXPERIENCING CIVIL war for the first time at the age of twelve without a father, only a mother fighting for the survivor of her three children. If you never experiences such a thing before, than allow me to share with you my war experience.

I will start by giving you brief information about the Liberian civil war. In 1990 on New Year eve at about 3:30 am, Rebel troops invaded Liberia. A brutal war was fought between the government and the citizens of Liberia. It was a war that created poverty in many Liberians communities. Families were destroyed due to the corruptions in our government. Power was what most Liberian government officials, even citizens wanted to endure. At this point in history, we as Liberians knew our nation was passing into another time period.

Chapter one

Begging of civil war

M OTHER AND I stood on the green African grass washing Adam clothes in our little village formally named after my grandfather, a native warrior of our land. His name was (Gwah). Gwah In my native language means Bulconstricter. In battle, grandfather could spell his enemy by their scent. I even gave him a nick name called Snake in the grass. He was very slick as well as brave. Standing beside mama, a loud noise shook the dusty African ground like a volcano, pale of smokes arouse from the earth covering the village, and one after the other we fled into the forest. With the sounds of guns drumming in our ears as we ran, behind me was a beautiful old woman whom my mother knew for six years screamed in terror. She shouted "Run! Run! Rebels are coming to kill, run! But before she could finish her statement, bullets pears through her thin body like (thousand knives), my mouth dropped open as I stood in confusion. I began crying bitterly.

We walked all day without eating anything. During the night time, we slept under the bright stars. Babies could not cry, mothers were not allowed to weep for their children if they were killed. Children were not giving medication or food, many babies died, due to lack of food and medication. We had no time to weep. Rebel troops were on our trail. Rebels never slept until every single Liberian who supported the government or voted for the president where confirmed dead.

Running with speed I murmured as I ran alongside with my family, this is a dream right? It seems that none of this is true. But, it was true? Twelve years of living in Liberia, I was experiencing civil war for the very first time. In the forest, it rained as we walked, branches of trees slapped across our faces, Adam was carried on mother’s back while Ruth and I walked with the other children. It was so cold that we all began to shiver. We prayed and prayed to God; praying that this brutal war will soon end. Our tears and prayer could not save us then, only the almighty could deliver us from these rebels.

Night fell as rebels continued killing Liberians like ants. I lay beside my grandmother on the cold grass stained with human blood asking her how long it would take us to return home. Looking at my grandmother, I noticed her body was paled. She looked as if death was visiting her. I asked, grandmother, are we ever going to get back home while pulling on her sleeves in tears. She responded in a low squeaky voice saying. Yes, if God willing.

Nothing my grandmother said could change the fact that we were in the eyes of a brutal war and anytime from now we could all be killed. Each night a child dies from hunger and sickness, the next morning a baby dies sucking on his/her mother’s empty breast while the mother prays for milk in her breast. It seemed God was not listening to our cry. We knew that poor baby would not live to see the light of another day. He was gone to a place we will never know until we die.

That morning my mother cried like a baby dog that lost its place in life. Courage left our bodies as fear emerge into our souls. My breath shortened as we continued our journey through Liberia jungle. It has been five days without food or water. The heat from sun dried our lips. I could hear my stomach growling as we walked. Everything was happening to me at once. It was then I started to taste death.

Walking down the street of Nimba County, everything was quiet except the sounds of guns. We walked in fear looking left and right for rebel troops. Ahead of us sat a little boy almost the same age as Adam sitting near his mother’s dead body crying. Her throat had been cut open with a knife; rebels left the poor baby beside his mother as she bleeds to death. Just few blocks from where we stood a pregnant woman stomach