The Lost Boys of Sudan Find a New Home

Of all the stories that have poured out of the Sudan, especially in the embattled region of Darfur lately, none have been more inspiring than that of the "Lost Boys."

Named after a group of orphans in the story of Peter Pan, roughly 26,000 Sudanese boys were forced by the violence in Sudanese villages in the late 1980s to flee their homes. After walking almost a thousand miles with the hope of finding peace, then spending nine years in a Kenyan refugee camp, almost four thousand of these youngsters are being brought here by our government to settle in cities around the country.

The nearly-thousand-mile trip on foot would seem almost impossible to even a full-grown man, but these were literally children, some of whom were as young as five years old. The desire to be free of the violence and oppression was stronger than the elements and dangers that lie ahead of them. They also worked as a team; whenever one of these youngsters' legs started hurting so badly it appeared they couldn't continue their journey, one of the older boys would pick him up and carry him. After days of being thirsty and hungry, the boys resorted to sucking liquid from mud and eating leaves and wild berries. Eventually, there were those who became too tired to go on with the trip, and just sat down to die of starvation or dehydration. Those who couldn't keep up with the rest of them often became easy prey for lions and other natural predators.

According to John Deng James, one of the Lost Boys now living in America, "Some children died from eating poisonous leaves, and sometimes that dirty water we had to drink caused a stomach ache and you worried that you might die. But, you know, God was with us."

These boys walked without long breaks or rest through tremendous desert-like heat and thick wilderness. Older ones (some only 9 or 10 years old) looked after the younger ones, while others formed their own makeshift "families". On occasion, Red Cross relief helicopters would pass overhead to drop food and water to them, but that was all they could do because the violence in the region made any rescue attempt too risky.

The youngsters walked for almost two months across Sudan to the country of Ethiopia, where they spent three years in different refugee camps. That was short-lived, however, since more gunfire forced them away in 1991. They started crossing the River Gilo while being chased by Ethiopian tanks and soldiers, but thousands drowned, eaten by crocodiles or shot to death. Those who survived the river crossing kept on moving for over a year. Finally, after crossing once again through their home country, they made it into Kenya.

They knew the nation was a safe harbor for thousands of African refugees who were forced out of their homes by war. Dehydrated, emaciated and with many diseased, only half of the original group -- roughly 10,000 who survived the ordeal -- finally hobbled up to the Kakuma Refugee Camp in 1992. Although most of them were between the ages of 8 and 18, most didn't know how old they were. Aid workers could only give them approximate ages as they set out to provide identification for them.

Today, even in America fifteen years later, they live with nightmares. But they survived an ordeal that would make even the toughest American men quiver with fear. They struck out for freedom from hate, from violence and oppression. They worked and traveled as a team, supporting each other in the worst of scenarios.
They were children of faith and belief; children from whom we, as a nation and world, can certainly learn some invaluable lessons.

They were "The Lost Boys."