About a month ago, a woman walked into my library. Her name was Achut and she wanted to tell me about a book she had written. I was a bit caught off guard in the moment, as we don’t have authors just show up at our school to talk to the librarian. She asked some questions about how we purchase books, and if we might be interested in putting her book in the library. Not knowing much about her, or her book, I said I’d check it out and if I thought it was a good fit that we’d definitely consider putting something from a local author in our library. We made small talk for a bit longer. I asked her why she decided to write a book, and about the writing process. I’ll admit, the whole experience was a bit odd being so out of the blue and unexpected, but after she left, I Googled her book, and read the first chapter. At that moment, I knew I had just met somebody special.
Our meeting was a few weeks prior to her book release. After reading the first chapter, I knew we needed this in our library. We needed this available to our classroom lit circles. We needed this available to our school community. I pre-ordered copies from our book vendor, knowing they wouldn’t arrive until later in the fall. Our public library had the audiobook available before our copies came in, so I decided to listen. It’s a very odd experience to listen to something so heartbreaking and moving, having met the person who wrote it.
While I had heard of Sudan’s Lost Boys, I’m not sure I really understood the magnitude of the Civil War in Sudan. The terror inflicted by the rebels. The fear. The loss. Achut is very close to my age, but she has lived so much more life. So much terror, so much loss, so much challenge, and at such a young age. I can not even begin to wrap my mind around the childhood she endured. She truely is a survivor. Hearing Achut’s story was heartbreaking. Chapter after chapter of unimaginable loss. I cried listening to her words, my rural midwestern American privilege so apparent. The privilege I have to not know the stories that refugees here, in my own city, have to share. How naive was I to not know that people in my own community have suffered so much?
Don’t look back is a heartbreakingly beautiful story, and I am so happy for the life Achut has found.