The Fight for Survival: Hell In Life

By Godelive N. Ohelo

I was born in then Zaire (Democratic Republic of Congo) in the late 1980s, and at a tender age my country experienced a horrific civil war. Thousands of people were murdered during the civil war that happened in 1994 during the era of Mobutu Sese Seko. My father and my other two siblings were killed during the war period. My mother was forced to take us to Malawi for safety where we stayed in a refugee camp for five years. Life in the camp was stressful, with inadequate water and food and poor housing. However, we were forced to stay in the camp by the authorities, and freedom of movement was restricted. I am an example of the troubles that people have faced in life as a result of death and separation, which occurs due to the political instability.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Aug 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9780228869085

Godelive N. Ohelo

Godelive Niya Ohelo is a former flight attendant who resides in s in Fort McMurray, AB, with her three children. She is a paralegal who is inspired to become a lawyer. She loves to cook, play tennis and travel. She is a co-founder of "Inspiration Academic Associative," a charity that helps children with basic education and everyday necessities.

Book preview

The Fight for Survival

Hell In Life

Godelive N. Ohelo

Editor: Ann Marie

Cover Page Contributor: Bradley Malley

Photographer: Steven Li

The Fight for Survival

Copyright © 2023 by Godelive N. Ohelo

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-2288-6907-8 (Hardcover)

978-0-2288-6906-1 (Paperback)

978-0-2288-6908-5 (eBook)

Table of Contents

Preface

Chapter 1. Not Again!

Chapter 2. Sweet Life in Congo

Chapter 3. Turn of Events

Chapter 4. The Dark Moments

Chapter 5. Bye, Father

Chapter 6. Risky Journey

Chapter 7. Sweet Kilimanjaro

Chapter 8. Temporary Home

Chapter 9. Hell in the Camp

Chapter 10. No Way Out

Chapter 11. Flying Moment

Chapter 12. Learning the Hard Way

Chapter 13. New Heaven in Canada

Chapter 14. Fire from Hell

Chapter 15. Reliving It All

Chapter 16. Hope for the Future

About the Author

Preface

In 2016, I came to experience the worst nightmare of my life when my daughter and I were forced to stay in a camp after a massive fire broke out in Fort McMurray, Alberta. That fire proved to me that there is no way we can guarantee a perfect life for our children—we can only hope for one. I hope to provide my daughter with the best life, as I would not wish my life on her.

I was born into a loving family in Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of the Congo, in the late 1980s. In 1994, while I was still at a tender age, my country experienced a horrific civil war under the dictatorship of Mobutu Sese Seko. Thousands of people were murdered, including my father and two of my siblings. Fleeing by foot, my mother courageously led me and my remaining siblings to Malawi for safety. There, authorities forced us to stay in a refugee camp. Life in the camp, with its inadequate water and food, poor housing and limited freedom of movement, was stressful. After five years of being detained there, World Vision offered to relocate our family to Canada. The chance was life-changing, although at first, we had to cope with culture shock and racism.

The Fight for Survival is a true story depicting some of the challenges I and my family faced as a result of the war. My story is just one example of the troubles that so many people have faced in life as a result of death and separation caused by political instability. I hope readers of this book will benefit from my experiences and ability to handle difficulties in life. I also hope this book will be helpful for world leaders, specifically in Africa, so that they can reduce their hunger for power and focus on the safety of their citizens.

Chapter 1

Not Again!

Wake-up Call

My bedroom was not a sanctuary. Often, my daughter would come in and play in the room, shouting and making merry. I was used to such noise when she was in the house. But on this third day of May 2016, I would not have expected any noise in the house since my daughter was at school. The noise woke my sleepy mind. Is Jesus back?

The first question was silly. I had to wake up and figure out why there was noise all around me. Listening keenly, I could hear the faint sound of helicopters in the sky.

I quickly opened my window to check what was happening. A dark cloud covered the sky. It had been a long time since we had had rain in Fort McMurray. I was relieved to see the dark cloud since my work in the garden would be eased. I had been watering my kale and flowers for two months, just waiting for the rainy season. Finally, I will rest. Come, come rain and water my beautiful flowers.

Looking closer, I realized the cloud was different from the usual rain cloud. It was darker and moving fast. My eyes opened wide, and I noticed that my neighbour’s car was not in its parking sport. It was not a weekend, so where could he be? Confused, I wondered what was happening. I rushed to my closet, covered myself with a sweater and ran outside.

The sky was even darker now. There was no rain, but an intense scorching sun. My tough African skin felt the scorching heat through to the flesh. Something was wrong. I had to figure out what was going on. I hurried into the house, picked up my phone, and dialled my mother’s number. There was no response. At her advanced age, I was not surprised because she would usually switch her phone off. She hated being disturbed when taking a nap. I decided to call my brother Tante. The call did not go through. Now I had reason to be worried. Tante was an early riser.

Tante and I lived in different worlds when it came to sleeping. He would wake up at four o’clock in the morning just to catch up with current affairs. The worst sin you could commit against me would be to wake me up early when I didn’t have any serious business to take care of. How come Tante is not picking up my call? I could not bear the suspense anymore. I decided to step out of the gate and ask my neighbour why there were helicopters and sirens all around us. Upon reaching the gate, what I saw left my mouth full of bitter saliva.

Devil’s Place

Fire! Fire! Fire! I could hear one of my neighbours shouting. Without waiting for an invitation, I joined the chorus. My shouting technique was not of the best standard compared to my neighbours. I blame my throat, which had been affected by a strong cold. Police sirens could be heard from a short distance away. A fire had broken out in Fort McMurray Forest. Everybody was running for their lives. There was no time to waste. It was big. And it was the second most dangerous scenario I had experienced in my life.

Come on, get into the car, I heard a police officer commanding me. There is no time to waste. Save your life first.

I could not get into the car.

My daughter is at school, I informed the police officer. I have to evacuate her. In the back of my mind, I knew that my daughter was not safe.

On returning to the house, I got a call. The phone number was familiar; it was École Lycee, the school my daughter had been attending since pre-school. It was one of the best French schools in Alberta. I quickly picked up and heard the panicked voice of Madame Nicole, the school secretary: Am I speaking to Godelive?

Yes.

Come for your daughter. This is an emergency. There is a fire in the forest nearby. All the children have been transported to another nearby school. Please hurry before it’s too late.

In that moment, my world changed. My eyes could not see anything. All I saw in my mind was the beautiful face of my seven-year-old daughter asking me for help. My heartbeat was as fast and loud as the drums of Samba dancers. My body was shivering with fear, yet my skin was sweating. I had no time to waste.

I grabbed my car keys and rushed outside to the garage, still in pyjamas and a sweater. Jumping into the driver’s seat, I started the vehicle, and headed the short distance to the school, wishing my car would race as quickly as my thoughts.

Lovely Baby

Chanel, my firstborn daughter, was always joyous and playful. Friends used to say that she was my look-alike. That morning, she bid me an emotional goodbye since she would be spending the night with her grandmother. My mother resided close to Chanel’s school, and I had a task to attend to show young immigrant women how to bake cakes for commercial purposes. Chanel had an excellent relationship with her grandmother, and with my busy schedule, the two spent a lot of time together. Chanel hugged me compassionately as if she were headed to a land of no return. Now, in the vehicle, I could feel her warm hands holding my back tightly. Was she bidding me goodbye, I could hear myself asking, headed to the journey of no return?

The odour from the forest was unpleasant. In my mind, I could picture children burning, shouting helplessly. Something had to be done. There was no time to waste. I took the main highway and headed to the school. People were everywhere, desperately trying to save their lives from the hell of fire affecting our once peaceful community. Traffic was slow. I needed a faster way to reach the school. I was short on options. After two kilometres, the slow traffic stopped moving.

I heard a voice in my mind say, Leave this car here and head to the school on foot. Then I thought, But, I struggled so much to pay the loans for this car. I was between a rock and a hard place. I had to determine the quickest way to save my daughter.

A car I considered so valuable suddenly became useless. It could not help me reach the school on time. The heat from the forest fire was unbearable. I looked at the traffic situation again. Drivers were abandoning their vehicles to save their lives, and in my mind, I could hear the voices of terrified children.

Immediately, I pulled out the car keys, jumped out of the car, and rushed to the school. The place was chaotic. I sensed panic. My heartbeat was high. I screamed as I ran in the direction of the school, passing other parents who had already collected their children. Everywhere I looked, people were crying. I had to hurry to save my daughter.

The distance between the place where I abandoned the car and the school was not long. Yet during the travel, I found it lengthy. I prayed to our African gods to add speed to my legs so that I could run faster. As I approached the school gate, I could feel the panic in my heart. Is my daughter safe? I kept repeating in my mind.

I entered the communication office. There were signs that all was not well. Everyone looked shocked. The fire had already touched down in some classes, partially destroying the school. My main worry was for everyone’s safety.

In the office, there was a lengthy queue. Some parents were crying out in panic, waiting for the worst news possible. I had little to think about. I have come to pick up Chanel Ohelo. Allow me to take my child! I shouted.

"S’il vous plait, madame. Suivez le protocol!" the secretary shouted back, insisting I follow protocol.

Safe at Last

I tried to settle my nerves. All I wanted to know was that my daughter was safe. As I waited for my chance to get into the office, my only prayer was that the Lord would protect me from the past that was haunting me. When my turn finally came, I slowly entered the office. There were papers all around. The floor was muddy, maybe as a result of the activities that had been going on.

The secretary was checking a list of students. She made a call. Please release Chanel Ohelo.

The office was dead silent at that moment. I had nothing to say. In my heart, I thanked God for keeping my daughter alive.

On arrival, Chanel looked me deep in the eyes. Her eyes were swollen; she was emotional. She ran and hugged me. I could no longer control my tears. I rubbed her head with my arms trying to cool her down, happy that she was safe.

As we left school, my main worry was where we could spend the night. I called my mother, who was still at her house packing important documents, and she informed me that a fire assembly point had been set up in Edmonton. The 445-kilometre trip south would be no joke for a panicked mother and her daughter. Normally a four-and-a-half hour drive, it took us twelve hours. The Edmonton organization received us, and other organizations had set up their temporary refugee centre in Edmonton’s Expo Centre. One of the attendants informed me that they were expecting close to eighty thousand people.

There was panic among the newly displaced residents. Some people’s loved ones were missing. There was a probability they had been trapped by the strong flames that were still burning the forest. The panic was all over the place. For us, we were all right. At least we were safe. The problem was that we would be forced to stay in a refugee camp in a country we thought would be stable.

The attendants offered us some warm clothes. Everyone was given a blanket. It