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When Elephants Fight
In the South Sudanese village of Pacong, Juba is young and old at the same time. Forced to grow up quickly in the civil war, he is nonetheless fun-loving as well as smart. But his little world cannot deflect the conflict raging around it and soon he must flee the life he loves.
Ahead lies a long trek to a refugee camp, a journey arduous and fraught. When at last it ends, Juba comes to wonder if there’s any such thing as safe haven in his country. Yet life in the camp is not all bad. There can be intense joy amid the deprivation, there are angels as well as demons.
Poised part way between heaven and hell, When Elephants Fight draws a horrifying picture of what humanity can do to itself, but Juba’s is a story of transcendence and resilience, even exultation.
Majok Tulba’s debut novel, Beneath the Darkening Sky, was shortlisted for the Dylan Thomas Prize and likened to the work of Nam Le, Markus Zusak and Primo Levi. No less brilliant, When Elephants Fight is an important testimony of the harrowing lives of refugees.
Ahead lies a long trek to a refugee camp, a journey arduous and fraught. When at last it ends, Juba comes to wonder if there’s any such thing as safe haven in his country. Yet life in the camp is not all bad. There can be intense joy amid the deprivation, there are angels as well as demons.
Poised part way between heaven and hell, When Elephants Fight draws a horrifying picture of what humanity can do to itself, but Juba’s is a story of transcendence and resilience, even exultation.
Majok Tulba’s debut novel, Beneath the Darkening Sky, was shortlisted for the Dylan Thomas Prize and likened to the work of Nam Le, Markus Zusak and Primo Levi. No less brilliant, When Elephants Fight is an important testimony of the harrowing lives of refugees.
242 pages, Paperback
First published July 2, 2018
About the author
Majok Tulba
2 books25 followersMajok Tulba was born in Pacong Village in South Sudan. He fled war-torn South Sudan as a sixteen-year-old, and now lives in Sydney with his wife and children. He was awarded a NSW Premier's CAL Literary Centre Fellowship. Beneath the Darkening Sky is his first novel and was shortlisted for New South Premier’s Literary Awards-community Relations commission2013, Commonwealth Book Prize 2013, the Dylan Thomas Prize 2013 and won Kathleen Mtichell Literary Award 2014.
Majok Tulba was named one of the Sydney Morning Herald's Best Young Novelists of the Year in 2013.
Majok Tulba was named one of the Sydney Morning Herald's Best Young Novelists of the Year in 2013.
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Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
July 30, 2018
A moving story about a boy who must flee the hostilities that have torn his village and family apart. As he travels across war ravaged South Sudan to find safe haven in a refugee camp, he is beset by many trials that no child should face. This is a gripping, action-packed novel with some magical descriptions of the African countryside through which Juba travels, and thoughtful character portrayals. It is both a coming of age story and a heartbreaking tale of the terrible deeds people inflict upon each other. Desperately sad in places but ultimately full of hope, I highly recommend it.
July 4, 2018
“I hear the cry of a child born in the time of war; I hear the cry of children as the elephants fight; We will all go home my child; When the elephants stop their fighting…”
When Elephants Fight is one of the most amazing novels I’ve read in a very long time. It’s a profoundly important story with a tight grip on authenticity that is rare in novel form, yet so highly sought after. I had, at best, a slim knowledge on the situation in South Sudan, even less on what life in a refugee camp might entail, but Majok’s clear and concise style has opened my eyes wide, and while what they have seen is both shocking and horrific, I feel enriched, for want of a better way to put it. To think that one can survive such horror and deprivation with so many odds stacked against them; it’s truly incredible.
The novel is split into two parts: before the refugee camp and then inside the refugee camp. At the beginning of the novel, there is a somewhat idyllic atmosphere, despite the fact that war has been raging for decades. Villagers live out their lives as best they can, the ever present threat from the Sudanese government tempering everything, along with the constant fear of the South Sudanese rebels. Life was tough, far tougher than we in Australia could ever experience, yet the sense of community was rich and the culture vibrant. There was happiness and hope and I enjoyed the way Majok recreated daily life for the reader.
Then the soldiers of the Sudanese government attacked the village and the horror of this is beyond anything I could have envisaged. I simply couldn’t tear my eyes from the pages, Majok’s skill as a writer coming to the fore as he balanced horror with truth, minus any gratuitous overplay. I was swamped with fear and absolute disbelief at all of these people becoming displaced in one violent swoop. And then, to compound the horror, this is where the South Sudanese rebels step in, ready to scoop up boys who are keen for revenge and to pressure those who aren’t, and to kidnap girls to ‘populate their future armies’. In addition to these threats, there is the landscape of Africa, hostile and populated with carnivorous beasts. Suffice to say, the tension in this first part of the novel was high, incredibly so.
For those fortunate enough to have survived the lions, the scorpions, the snakes, the lack of food and water, the relentless sun burning down and the disease that can run rife within a teeming mass of people, the next stop is the refugee camp, glittering on the horizon like an oasis. Well, it’s the next stop, but it’s no oasis. The best way to describe the refugee camp is in this passage I’ve cobbled together from a series of pages early on in the second part of the novel:
“She asks the man leading us how many people there are in this camp and he tells her eight hundred thousand. At first we think he’s got it wrong, or we haven’t heard right, but when we ask again he repeats it.
‘There are people here from every tribe in South Sudan,’ he says. ‘This war . . .’ He shakes his head. Then he tells us there are just under a thousand aid workers here, from twenty-two different organisations. Mama holds my hand tightly and I can feel her thinking the same thing. How can there be enough food and water for so many people? Then he tells us they’ve run out of tents and will bring us one when they get more. ‘In the meantime,’ he says, ‘if you could build yourselves a shelter just here.’ He points to a bare patch of ground.
‘But where will we sleep?’ Thiko’s mother asks.
‘Don’t worry,’ he says, ‘we’re working on getting more tents as soon as possible. We’ll have them to you as soon as they come in. Just hang tight for now.’
‘What about food?’ I ask. ‘And water?’
He scratches his chin as if he’s not sure what to tell us. ‘We’re working on the food too. There are two wells in this zone. You need to be prepared to wait a while for water.’
Later we discover that waiting a while often means hours at a time.
A month or so after our arrival, the UN supplies still haven’t arrived. It seems no one was prepared for this number of people in the camp.
To think how hard we longed to reach this camp while we were walking here. Only to discover more suffering. Sometimes I’m not sure where I’d rather be, here in the camp or back on the path, with all its dangers.
There’s no pride here in this camp. Pride is gone and buried. Now it’s only about survival.”
The deprivation within the refugee camp was stunning. It really blew my mind. And the ration card system was appalling. There were people in the camp who got ration cards entitling them to food and supplies, but not everyone got a card, so there were hundreds of thousands of people who were let into the camp but told to fend for themselves. Crime was rife and survival was truly up to the individual. I can clearly see why young men join the rebels, why they might reach that point where they feel they have no option. This horrified me, more than anything else, that a safe haven could prove so utterly the opposite of its intention. And it was not safe, there weren’t enough UN soldiers to protect from insurgents, which when they came, were from Uganda. Ugandan rebels intent on stealing supplies for their own cause. Even writing this review, I’m sitting here in disbelief that Africa is a continent with so much turmoil, so many threats; its beauty tainted and defiled by war spread from one corner to the next.
Despite all of this, When Elephants Fight is an incredibly hopeful novel filled with brave people and love in abundance. That’s what is so startling about it, that in the midst of such horror and danger, humanity can push on. People with nothing can still hope and people who help others selflessly can find themselves and their situations improving. I can see this novel becoming a recommended text for high school reading in the future, it has so much educational value combined with a page turning quality. I’m not going to comment on the feelings this novel has generated within me and how that makes me feel about Australia’s processing of refugees. This is a book review, not a political commentary, however I do think it would be impossible to read this without then, by extension, having an increased ability to regard the plight of refugees with compassion and empathy, rather than fear and suspicion. Sometimes you can be aware of situations but not really know anything about them. I know more now than what I did before, and it doesn’t sit well with me. The weight of this novel has left me feeling the burden of my privilege.
Thanks is extended to Penguin Random House for providing me with a copy of When Elephants Fight for review.
When Elephants Fight is one of the most amazing novels I’ve read in a very long time. It’s a profoundly important story with a tight grip on authenticity that is rare in novel form, yet so highly sought after. I had, at best, a slim knowledge on the situation in South Sudan, even less on what life in a refugee camp might entail, but Majok’s clear and concise style has opened my eyes wide, and while what they have seen is both shocking and horrific, I feel enriched, for want of a better way to put it. To think that one can survive such horror and deprivation with so many odds stacked against them; it’s truly incredible.
The novel is split into two parts: before the refugee camp and then inside the refugee camp. At the beginning of the novel, there is a somewhat idyllic atmosphere, despite the fact that war has been raging for decades. Villagers live out their lives as best they can, the ever present threat from the Sudanese government tempering everything, along with the constant fear of the South Sudanese rebels. Life was tough, far tougher than we in Australia could ever experience, yet the sense of community was rich and the culture vibrant. There was happiness and hope and I enjoyed the way Majok recreated daily life for the reader.
Then the soldiers of the Sudanese government attacked the village and the horror of this is beyond anything I could have envisaged. I simply couldn’t tear my eyes from the pages, Majok’s skill as a writer coming to the fore as he balanced horror with truth, minus any gratuitous overplay. I was swamped with fear and absolute disbelief at all of these people becoming displaced in one violent swoop. And then, to compound the horror, this is where the South Sudanese rebels step in, ready to scoop up boys who are keen for revenge and to pressure those who aren’t, and to kidnap girls to ‘populate their future armies’. In addition to these threats, there is the landscape of Africa, hostile and populated with carnivorous beasts. Suffice to say, the tension in this first part of the novel was high, incredibly so.
For those fortunate enough to have survived the lions, the scorpions, the snakes, the lack of food and water, the relentless sun burning down and the disease that can run rife within a teeming mass of people, the next stop is the refugee camp, glittering on the horizon like an oasis. Well, it’s the next stop, but it’s no oasis. The best way to describe the refugee camp is in this passage I’ve cobbled together from a series of pages early on in the second part of the novel:
“She asks the man leading us how many people there are in this camp and he tells her eight hundred thousand. At first we think he’s got it wrong, or we haven’t heard right, but when we ask again he repeats it.
‘There are people here from every tribe in South Sudan,’ he says. ‘This war . . .’ He shakes his head. Then he tells us there are just under a thousand aid workers here, from twenty-two different organisations. Mama holds my hand tightly and I can feel her thinking the same thing. How can there be enough food and water for so many people? Then he tells us they’ve run out of tents and will bring us one when they get more. ‘In the meantime,’ he says, ‘if you could build yourselves a shelter just here.’ He points to a bare patch of ground.
‘But where will we sleep?’ Thiko’s mother asks.
‘Don’t worry,’ he says, ‘we’re working on getting more tents as soon as possible. We’ll have them to you as soon as they come in. Just hang tight for now.’
‘What about food?’ I ask. ‘And water?’
He scratches his chin as if he’s not sure what to tell us. ‘We’re working on the food too. There are two wells in this zone. You need to be prepared to wait a while for water.’
Later we discover that waiting a while often means hours at a time.
A month or so after our arrival, the UN supplies still haven’t arrived. It seems no one was prepared for this number of people in the camp.
To think how hard we longed to reach this camp while we were walking here. Only to discover more suffering. Sometimes I’m not sure where I’d rather be, here in the camp or back on the path, with all its dangers.
There’s no pride here in this camp. Pride is gone and buried. Now it’s only about survival.”
The deprivation within the refugee camp was stunning. It really blew my mind. And the ration card system was appalling. There were people in the camp who got ration cards entitling them to food and supplies, but not everyone got a card, so there were hundreds of thousands of people who were let into the camp but told to fend for themselves. Crime was rife and survival was truly up to the individual. I can clearly see why young men join the rebels, why they might reach that point where they feel they have no option. This horrified me, more than anything else, that a safe haven could prove so utterly the opposite of its intention. And it was not safe, there weren’t enough UN soldiers to protect from insurgents, which when they came, were from Uganda. Ugandan rebels intent on stealing supplies for their own cause. Even writing this review, I’m sitting here in disbelief that Africa is a continent with so much turmoil, so many threats; its beauty tainted and defiled by war spread from one corner to the next.
Despite all of this, When Elephants Fight is an incredibly hopeful novel filled with brave people and love in abundance. That’s what is so startling about it, that in the midst of such horror and danger, humanity can push on. People with nothing can still hope and people who help others selflessly can find themselves and their situations improving. I can see this novel becoming a recommended text for high school reading in the future, it has so much educational value combined with a page turning quality. I’m not going to comment on the feelings this novel has generated within me and how that makes me feel about Australia’s processing of refugees. This is a book review, not a political commentary, however I do think it would be impossible to read this without then, by extension, having an increased ability to regard the plight of refugees with compassion and empathy, rather than fear and suspicion. Sometimes you can be aware of situations but not really know anything about them. I know more now than what I did before, and it doesn’t sit well with me. The weight of this novel has left me feeling the burden of my privilege.
Thanks is extended to Penguin Random House for providing me with a copy of When Elephants Fight for review.
October 27, 2021
This was a very quick read. Unfortunately, I wasn't impressed by it. The writing was flat. The reader didn't get any in depth information about South Sudan or its people (how did South Sudan even become part of the greater Sudan? How did Juba learn to be so fluent in English? What language does his mother speak? How did South Sudan become Christian?). The story is written from the point of view of a child, maybe that's the reason why the story remained somewhat superficial. There are some very brutal scenes in this book, so probably the lighter, predictable scenes were to make the story more bearable. However, I was still annoyed by some of the obvious plot lines, especially regarding Thiko and Bol. The author doesn't side with any of the armies or rebel groups, but all the white NGO people were presented in such a positive light. It made my eyes roll. But I did like the title of this book - When Elephants Fight. From my understanding, it's bigger powers that are actually waging war against each other and tragically this war takes place in South Sudan. The people of South Sudan whose villages are destroyed during this war are the ultimate victims because they don't have any voice in all of this. I respect that the author wanted to write this story, but I didn't enjoy reading it because I feel like I didn't learn anything new.
January 4, 2019
Majok Tulba is a South Sudanese refugee who settled in Australia after experiencing the brutality of the civil war in his home country and many years in a refugee camp. Using the character of a young boy, Juba, he writes in simple, moving prose about the destruction of home and family, a trek that tests endurance almost beyond belief and then the experience of a refugee camp itself.
It was the latter section that shocked me the most. We have all seen the TV images of Sudan's suffering but the precariousness of existence in the UN refugee camp and particularly the lack of food appalled me.
I have taught young refugees at different times in my teaching career and retirement and sometimes they have shared their stories with me. What has always amazed me is their resilience and belief in a future, despite all that has happened to them. Of course some never get over the traumas they have experienced.
This novel is a tribute to human survival and the persistence of hope. It is humbling to read it.
It was the latter section that shocked me the most. We have all seen the TV images of Sudan's suffering but the precariousness of existence in the UN refugee camp and particularly the lack of food appalled me.
I have taught young refugees at different times in my teaching career and retirement and sometimes they have shared their stories with me. What has always amazed me is their resilience and belief in a future, despite all that has happened to them. Of course some never get over the traumas they have experienced.
This novel is a tribute to human survival and the persistence of hope. It is humbling to read it.
August 23, 2018
A new generation of novelists is bursting onto the scene with the harrowing stories of their experiences of genocide (Rwanda) and civil war. Majok Tulba presents a startling coming-of-age novel, devastating in its portrayal of hellish inhumanity and loss in South Sudan. The traumatic events of Juba's adolescence must reflect the author's own frightening experience and are told from the perspective of a boy who is forced to grow up too soon. However, despite the horrific details of violence and hatred unleashed on a civilian population, Tulba paints a portrait of resilience and humanity in the darkest of moments. The trauma suffered by Juba, his family and friends, sheds light on the lasting impact of such horror in the survivors, many of whom have migrated to our country (Australia) in hope of finding peace. Tulba writes beautifully, both descriptions of terror and tenderness, and prompts us to ask ourselves (yet again) how people can do such unimaginable things to others when they abandon their morality.
March 25, 2021
Civil war is inevitably depressing, sad, and violent, but this author does a great job of making the violence feel necessary but not overdone. The refugees are hungry and desperate but there are just enough hopeful events sprinkled throughout that the sad things that continually occur are not overwhelming to the reader. I have read enough stories that are unremittingly bleak that finishing is a struggle. This was realistic to me but the small pockets of hope were realistic too, and I highly recommend this story.
December 15, 2018
Hell on earth. This is a heart wrenching emotionally charged novel. One cannot but be moved by this novel. Juba's optimism is a lesson to us all... "Here in this place it’s important to be reminded that you still know how to be happy ".
August 6, 2018
Seriously, you need to read this. So moving, heartbreaking, hopeful and horrific. Compiled true stories of how war disrupts and destroys. Extraordinary.
November 14, 2019
I started this last night and didn't stop reading til I finished it early this morning. Some books don't let go of their grip on you. Its role as the voice of a particular subject is its strongest value. This book does what Books as a collective do best - showing us something that we otherwise do not really comprehend. Although the writing, voice, believability and technique etc were also good it was this book's relevance to what is happening all over our world today that is its power. I would like to thank the author for what he has accomplished here and will also go in hunt for his other work - Beneath the Darkening Sky.
September 23, 2018
The story of a South Sudanese boy, Juba, whose village is attacked during the civil war. He flees the village and eventually ends up in a refugee camp. He is reunited with friends and family along the way so they are together in the camp. Juba had already lost his dad, and his older brother to the violence of the civil war, and his younger brother dies before they make it to the refugee camp, so it's his mother and sister who are with him there, along with some friends. These relationships soften the experience for the reader, but they are far from the reality for too many refugees, including Majok Tulba himself.
At the beginning of the year I read The Bone Sparrow which takes place in a detention center on the Australian mainland. Half of this story takes place in a refugee camp. This is the power of fiction, as I had never thought deeply about the experiences of people in refugee camps in Africa that hold hundreds of thousands of people. Juba is fortunate to have his family and friends but that doesn't take away from the trauma of fleeing his village, and the trauma of living with scarce resources in the camp. At one point a foreign aid worker brings in a football, and a group of boys, including Juba, play on a football team. Juba also has the opportunity to help out in the medical tent, something else to ease the harsh living conditions. The book ends with Juba still in the camp, with no plans to be resettled in a third country. Majok Tulba spent seven years in a refugee camp before being resettled in Australia. There is something of a "happy ending" but we know there are still so many tough days ahead.
The sheer scale of refugee camps like this one are so hard for me to comprehend. We have Juba's story, and that is played out hundreds of thousands more times for the others in the camp. I also didn't know that the Lord's Resistance Army came to refugee camps to violently recruit soldiers. No one is truly safe. The foreign aid workers are able to return to their countries, but not all of them do. They are not necessarily protected either.
Majok Tulba came to Australia from South Sudan in 2001. There are autobiographical elements in the story but he says, "I'm only one man, and I wanted to tell the history of what was happening to my country, what was happening to young people like myself at that time."
At the beginning of the year I read The Bone Sparrow which takes place in a detention center on the Australian mainland. Half of this story takes place in a refugee camp. This is the power of fiction, as I had never thought deeply about the experiences of people in refugee camps in Africa that hold hundreds of thousands of people. Juba is fortunate to have his family and friends but that doesn't take away from the trauma of fleeing his village, and the trauma of living with scarce resources in the camp. At one point a foreign aid worker brings in a football, and a group of boys, including Juba, play on a football team. Juba also has the opportunity to help out in the medical tent, something else to ease the harsh living conditions. The book ends with Juba still in the camp, with no plans to be resettled in a third country. Majok Tulba spent seven years in a refugee camp before being resettled in Australia. There is something of a "happy ending" but we know there are still so many tough days ahead.
The sheer scale of refugee camps like this one are so hard for me to comprehend. We have Juba's story, and that is played out hundreds of thousands more times for the others in the camp. I also didn't know that the Lord's Resistance Army came to refugee camps to violently recruit soldiers. No one is truly safe. The foreign aid workers are able to return to their countries, but not all of them do. They are not necessarily protected either.
Majok Tulba came to Australia from South Sudan in 2001. There are autobiographical elements in the story but he says, "I'm only one man, and I wanted to tell the history of what was happening to my country, what was happening to young people like myself at that time."
May 21, 2023
"When elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers."
An eye-opening book about what is happening in some parts of the world that might be nearly impossible to even imagine for us, who grew up in safety and in abundance.
It is a very sad and painful story and yet full of so much hope.
__________________________________
*Minor plot spoilers ahead*
This is a heartbreaking story of a boy, whose life is ripped apart the moment his own government bombs his village and sends soldiers to burn whatever is left and shoot everyone (including women and children) who is left. After this brutal beginning, we follow the boy, Juba, as he walks for hundreds of miles, fighting every day to survive as he encounters many dangers on the way - hungry lions, scorpions, rebels who are supposed to be on his side, yet again also abuse him and his people - and goes on sometimes without any food for days on end.
When he finally makes it to the refugee camp, he quickly finds out that it is not such a safe haven as he hoped for and the fight with starvation continues.
Despite all the suffering he has to endure, his never-ending hope and the little pleasures he finds on his journey keep also the reader's spirits up and it is not such a depressive read after all.
Read as a book of South Sudan, for my project Reading the World. Full review on my blog.
An eye-opening book about what is happening in some parts of the world that might be nearly impossible to even imagine for us, who grew up in safety and in abundance.
It is a very sad and painful story and yet full of so much hope.
__________________________________
*Minor plot spoilers ahead*
This is a heartbreaking story of a boy, whose life is ripped apart the moment his own government bombs his village and sends soldiers to burn whatever is left and shoot everyone (including women and children) who is left. After this brutal beginning, we follow the boy, Juba, as he walks for hundreds of miles, fighting every day to survive as he encounters many dangers on the way - hungry lions, scorpions, rebels who are supposed to be on his side, yet again also abuse him and his people - and goes on sometimes without any food for days on end.
When he finally makes it to the refugee camp, he quickly finds out that it is not such a safe haven as he hoped for and the fight with starvation continues.
"And it hits me just how strange it is to be in a refugee camp, to be chronically hungry, to not know if you'll ever go home again, and yet to be feeling as if you own half the cows and goats in the world."
Despite all the suffering he has to endure, his never-ending hope and the little pleasures he finds on his journey keep also the reader's spirits up and it is not such a depressive read after all.
Read as a book of South Sudan, for my project Reading the World. Full review on my blog.
December 27, 2024
This was my reading the world selection for South Sudan
Juba is a young man growing up the South Sudanese village of Pacong. Forced to grow up too quickly due the civil war raging in his country, Juba is both fun-loving, smart and wise beyond his years. However the war edges closer and Juba must leave the life he lives and make the long trek to a refugee camp.
Life in the camp is not all bad, but it is not the haven he believed it would be. There’s joy amid the depravation and good people as well as bad, but Juba decides to make the best of his situation and try not to dwell on all he has lost.
The voice in this story (Juba’s) feels very authentic for a young (I’m guessing early teenage) boy and has a great balance between the seriousness and devastation of civil war and all it entails, along with moments of boys just wanting to be boys and being with their friends and trying to catch the eye of a certain young lady.
The story is brutal yet lovely as it highlights what humans do to others and also themselves - both good and bad. The author has really nailed the fine balance of devastation and resilience through the voice of Juba, who is a heartwarming character. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5.
Juba is a young man growing up the South Sudanese village of Pacong. Forced to grow up too quickly due the civil war raging in his country, Juba is both fun-loving, smart and wise beyond his years. However the war edges closer and Juba must leave the life he lives and make the long trek to a refugee camp.
Life in the camp is not all bad, but it is not the haven he believed it would be. There’s joy amid the depravation and good people as well as bad, but Juba decides to make the best of his situation and try not to dwell on all he has lost.
The voice in this story (Juba’s) feels very authentic for a young (I’m guessing early teenage) boy and has a great balance between the seriousness and devastation of civil war and all it entails, along with moments of boys just wanting to be boys and being with their friends and trying to catch the eye of a certain young lady.
The story is brutal yet lovely as it highlights what humans do to others and also themselves - both good and bad. The author has really nailed the fine balance of devastation and resilience through the voice of Juba, who is a heartwarming character. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5.
February 18, 2019
Not quite as strong as his first novel, but still a great read. The first half has more of a storyline, action moving along as Juba and his friends and family flee the war. Once they arrive in the refugee camp, the narrative slows and not much else really happens. Which is not to say it's bad. Exploring life, the people and the conditions in the camp is interesting. The novel just felt a bit unfinished. We see a path ahead for Juba, but are left in uncertainty about what will actually happen to him - which probably mirrors the uncertainty felt each day by the refugees stuck in the camp, waiting for their future to begin. Well worth a read, Tulba is a remarkable writer with his own remarkable life experience to share and draw upon.
October 23, 2022
Trigger warnings: war, death, gun violence, bombing, fire, death of a grandparent, death of a sibling, death of a friend, starvation, lion attack, animal death.
Look, I read this a month ago and then forgot to review it so forgive me if this is a little sketchy on the details. Anyway, I loved this. At its heart, it's a coming of age story, albeit one full of war and fleeing the destruction of entire communities. Juba was a precious protagonist and I found his journey extremely compelling. Can't say I expected a surprise lion attack though... O.o
Look, I read this a month ago and then forgot to review it so forgive me if this is a little sketchy on the details. Anyway, I loved this. At its heart, it's a coming of age story, albeit one full of war and fleeing the destruction of entire communities. Juba was a precious protagonist and I found his journey extremely compelling. Can't say I expected a surprise lion attack though... O.o
August 25, 2020
Majok Tulba’s earlier novel, Beneath the Darkening Sky, was about a boy forced to be a soldier in South Sudan’s rebel army. This book is the story of a boy too young for the rebels, who saw his town destroyed by the government, and was sent on a dangerous journey to a refugee camp. It is a moving look at a way of life lost in South Sudan, the horrors endured, including those within the refugee camp, and the deep bonds of friendship formed under these circumstances.
September 14, 2026
I have never read from a South Sudanese perspective before. Starting with a junior fiction was probably a good place to start. But to be clear, it did not shy away from the truth of living and dying there. It was brutal in places and sweet in other places. It ended rather abruptly in my opinion, but also didn’t feel like the end either.
January 5, 2019
Thank you for your review, Carol Mck . I agree on all counts.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 12, 2021
Heart-wrenching but the undercurrent of hope kept me and the lead character going. Fitting ending.
Read
April 27, 2025I don't know what got me to pick this one up but it's really not my type of book and it mostly just left me exhausted.
January 3, 2019
This book is a really important book. I feel as though it paints such a clear and accurate (not that I have any experience) picture of what many children's reality is. It's broken up with humour, happiness and fun, but there is also so much confronting sadness and shock. It's been really well written and was very easy to read and follow.
February 1, 2019
Incredibly sad. Child soldiers who know that there is no future
Read
December 1, 2018I was surprised to see it was fiction, given that it seemed like much of this could have been lived experience. I enjoyed it - despite it being a challenging topic of refugees and civil war
Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews