Essam Bargad is a child protection social worker. He was once orphaned in an act of appalling violence, and joined a small group of other boys, wandering Southern Sudan and elsewhere, looking for a place of safety. Having found sanctuary in America, he has chosen a profession that offers him the opportunity to save other children, also lost in terrible situations of their own. Yet he is bound by professional rules that limit how he can help, and he is tormented by the question if, in following those rules, he is doing enough for the children who need him. His past continues to reverberate into his present. He is married to Amara, a powerful, loving woman, but all that he will not say about his childhood haunts their marriage. His trajectory towards revenge, towards redemptive violence, towards saving children whom no one else will help, threatens to destroy love, career and life itself.
Of this novel, author Geoff Thompson
There is a phrase Ellis uses in the book that I recorded in my notepad the moment I read “Sometimes wounds never heal. Pain feeds on pain.” Ellis is proffering an unsettling observation born from his ocean of experience in all things real, and damaging and cruel. But he is also subtly suggesting that an open wound is also an open doorway. He offers a line of enquiry that each of us can follow in earnest and heal our own torn selves from the inside out, "if we choose, in bravery and love, to help others."(and help ourselves).
This is a beautifully crafted novel, but it is also much it is educational, it is revelatory, it is forewarning, and ultimately, it is intercessionary. I believe that these words, this story, this author will land in your life like a bomb or a seed, at the right time, with the right information and guide you towards the right direction.
Ellis Amdur balances two careers, that as a crisis intervention specialist, through his company, Edgework and as a 50+ year practitioner of traditional Japanese martial arts. His writing meets right in the middle. Among his non-fiction works are thirteen profession-specific books on verbal de-escalation of aggression, two books for hostage negotiators, two on the art of tactical communication with hostile individuals, one on the art of psychotherapy, and has edited a book by Evelyn & Shelley Amdur on the former's career as a hospice social worker.
He has written and published three books on martial arts, the iconoclastic Dueling with Osensei: Old School, a work on classical martial traditions and Hidden in Plain Sight, on esoteric knowledge within various martial traditions.
In fiction, he is a co-author of the graphic novel, Cimmaronin, and the author of two novels, The Girl with the Face of the Moon, and Lost Boy. His third novel, Little Bird & the Tiger, set in Meiji Japan, is due for release in 2023.
His books are considered unique in that he uses his own experiences, often hair-raising or outrageous, as illustrations of the principles about which he writes, but it is also backed by solid research, and boots-on-the-ground experience.
I was a reader of an early draft of this novel, and then read the final form, which took an already powerful story about childhood abuse and pain, and how those whose lives are scarred by it struggle to find meaning and purpose, to be more than just "Lost Boys".
This is a story about a man, Essam, who endured horrific hardships in his youth as a ‘Lost Boy’ of the Sudan, a child warrior and victim of violence, adopted by an American Jewish couple and brought to the USA. Such a story is itself compelling -- this Sudanese boy who grows to be a hulking giant, trying to fit into the very erudite and refined world of his white parents; who are nevertheless themselves part of a group that is at once part and not part of White America. But this is prologue, a contrast of extremes that shapes a man of extremes, who we meet once he has found his way into being a Child Protection Services worker, married to a wonderful woman and seemingly having overcome all the darkness of his youth.
But while Essam is a good man who does incredibly important work, it also means constantly stepping back into the darkness of his own youth, and a particularly horrible case will make him confront whether he is a whole man or still a Lost Boy.
It is a powerful journey that Amdur, as a crisis intervention specialist, as unique insights into, and Essam's tale becomes one not just of the Sudanese Lost Boys, but a tale of all of us: WHO are we? Do we have the power to remake ourselves or are we victims of our trauma? What is the role of violence? Can it be virtuous?
These are deep questions that ripple like waves through this short novel/novella.
In a word: mesmerizing. When the system doesn't protect the most defenseless children, what is left? What can a human being live with, when they know the truth and can't bear to witness one more atrocity go unanswered? This is a raw and fearless short novel about a Sudanese man, Essam, who has made his home in the US and become a social worker. He has seen and experienced unspeakable violence, cruelty and loss -- all before puberty. Now, as a social worker, he must do his best to protect children from families who, if the universe were just, would never have been able to reproduce. He's worked hard to make a dignified life for himself and to put his past behind him, but even his compartmentalization and dissociative techniques can't keep the old pain entirely packed away. With the help of his new wife, Amara, he faces it down, and finds a path forward. Be warned: this is not "own voices"; I doubt a sensitivity reader had their way with it; there are no punches pulled regarding East African political and tribal chaos and violence. The voice is fresh and pap-free. If you find the current crop of topical books produced by the Big Five to be suspiciously one-note and sanitized and are looking for a read that dips you deep into pathos and challenges your understanding of human behavior and emotional accountability, this is the book. If you're looking for that visceral recognition of "Yes! This is the truth...", this is the book.
I am not one to read general fiction, but a friend sent this to me and once I got into the story it was hard to put down. This is a story about a man, Essam, who endured horrific hardships in his youth as a ‘Lost Boy’ of the Sudan, who found his way to the USA and into a profession, that of a Child Protection Services social worker, allowing him to help children in a very different cultural and historical context than his own, to endure or be lifted out of bad situations.
His work frequently triggers his own psychic immersion into the terror of his youth, something he has resisted sharing with his loving wife. To her, he is this strong, loving, caring, scarred enigma. Their journey toward an understanding of him as a whole man, is a process of discovery for the reader, too. But it was not just Essam we are discovering, but things about ourselves, our culture, our definition of what it means to be a ‘man’ here and in other cultures; what integrity, love and devotion can mean, and perhaps that we have lost sight of some of these things. With understanding there is hope.
There comes a time, when everyone who works with the hurt people of the world, that one thinks about stopping the problem right then and there. If you just acted, the pain and suffering caused by the person in front of you, could end. Sometimes for who knows how many victims?
Thoughts of quotes like Edmund Burke’s float through the mind: "evil prevails when good men fail to act".
What do you do with this? How do you live with yourself knowing that you didn’t do something and what are the consequences if you do?
“Lost Boy” is the latest novel from Ellis Amdur and while it certainly is fiction. It is based on his real world life experiences. More than once while reading it I found myself looking down the corridors of my own past, in the late hours of the night, wondering what happened to that kid? Or where did that woman end up? Would I recognize them if I saw them tomorrow. Would they recognize me? Would they blame me for either action or inaction?
Mr. Amdur’s novel explores those questions through the eyes of Essam Bargad, a child protection social worker. Coming from great childhood trauma himself, he now faces the tension that exists in the very real framework between justice and “the law.” Two things that often, don’t quite line up.
To be quite frank, this is not the sort of book I would normally have chosen to read. However, the author has the knowledge, training, and experience to write such a difficult book, keep it entertaining, and yet also challenge the reader with deep transformative questions of morality, justice, and how a traumatic background, though I wish it on no one, can be used to help others.
If you have ever thought about when it is time to act and when it is time to step aside. If you’ve ever thought about how to grow from your own trauma without hurting others. Or if you’re just looking for a fascinating book of fiction with deep practical lessons. Then I recommend “Lost Boy.”