How Many More Times Do We Have

In Early 1993, When I Was 12, I Was Separated From My Family As The Sierra Leone Civil War, Which Began Two Years Earlier, Came Into My Life.

My Squad Is My Family, My Gun Is My Provider, And Protector, And My Rule Is To Kill Or Be Killed.

I Lay In My Bed Night After Night Staring At The Ceiling And Thinking, Why Have I Survived The War? Why Was I The Last Person In My Immediate Family To Be Alive? I Didn’t Know.

We All Find Joy And Radiance And A Reason To Move On Even In The Most Dire Of Circumstances. Even In Chaos And Madness, Theres Still A Beauty That Comes From Just The Vibrancy Of Another Human Spirit.

We Must Strive To Be Like The Moon