Coincidence or Divine Intervention? You be the Judge (eBook)

Mulu Afework (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2021 | 1. Auflage
128 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-1185-7 (ISBN)

Infos

Mulu traverses dangerous grounds, leaving her beloved home, Ethiopia, to find a safer life in other countries. Told from her own words, Mulu shares her unforgettable, unimaginable experience as a refuge fleeing a war-torn country at the age of 16. From escaping death, sexual assaults, rejection, and domestic violence, her story will keep you wanting more. By the end of the book, you will have to decide: Was her life full of coincidences or divine interventions? You be the judge.

Textauszug

PHASE 1

MY BEGINNINGS AND UPBRINGING

I was born in a city called Jijiga, an area that was part of the Hararghe province located in the eastern part of Ethiopia. The vast majority was mainly Somali-speaking while the rest of the groups made up the small percentages of Indians, Arabs, Greeks, and other Ethiopian ethnic groups which the Somalis identified as Amharas.

The Horn of Africa, which is the eastern part of the continent, includes Ethiopia, Eritrea, Djibouti, Somalia, and a few other African countries. Between 1881 and 1914, European powers invaded Africa and colonized almost the entire continent. This era is known in history as “ The Scramble for Africa or The Partition of Africa.”

The Horn of Africa mainly attracted the European powers due to its location. While extending to the Indian Ocean, The Horn of Africa was used as ports for traders sailing to and from India. However the European Powers mainly consisting of France, Italy, and Britain invaded the region by taking over and establishing their own territory around the coast line. The French occupied Djibouti while the British created British Somaliland in the coastal area. Then, Italy occupied the eastern part of Somaliland (alongside the British) after settling in Eritrea around 1882. Although the neighboring African nations were all colonized by the Europeans during this era, Ethiopia alone successfully defended itself and remained independent. After defeating the Italians, the Ethiopians were granted the Ogaden (which included Jijiga) as a peace treaty. This period marked a pivotal moment in the way each group viewed one another.

Although Somalis outnumbered all other groups, they were considered the minorities because they yielded less political and social power. On the other hand, the smaller groups, including the one my family belonged to, were a part of the majority in terms of power and wealth. Much of the conflict stemmed from the European conquests and the rise of racial tensions among people of color. Like American history, tensions surmounted between groups who resembled more European features versus those with more African features. The plight of racial unrest across the globe stemmed from this dark period of racial animosity and colonialization. And what took place during the early 19th century would later affect my own journey.

Jijiga, being a strategic place to secure the Ogaden region, had been used as a military base. It wasn’t unusual for us as children to watch a convoy of military coming and going from all sides of the borders.

The Ethiopian ethnic group, the Amhara’s, like the one my grandmother married into, consisted of war heroes who came from the Northern and Central parts of Ethiopia. The Ethiopian government rewarded them with farm lands on which they settled for their heroic services during the conflicts.

The rest of the smaller groups who came to the region in different ways owned most of the businesses and controlled the wealth. The working class and peasants were primarily Ethiopian-Somali.

The local Ethiopian-Somali in the area considered the Ethiopians (specifically the Amhara’s) as a dominant people who came and took their land and their resources. As you can imagine, this resulted in great tension, but never erupted into any violence. Despite the feelings they had for one another, the Ethiopian-Somalis and the rest of the Ethiopian ethnic groups actually lived together harmoniously. Children from each group went to the same schools, however they never dared to go deep into each other’s neighborhood.

Although Jijiga was far from the border, there was always this fear that the Somalians from Somalia would pose as Ethiopian-Somali’s and come and go as they pleased. So, there was this imaginary border, more less an invisible wall, between the two communities living in the same city to keep the people at bay.

While growing up, we heard rumors of wars or sparks of small battles between Ethiopia and Somalia right around the border; yet despite this, we all felt comfortable living in our cities without any fear. We still managed to live together peacefully.

My Tiruye, My Family

Like many of us in America, I had a strong extended family. I was raised by a lovely lady that everyone called Tiruye; I called her “Mama.” As a young girl, I knew she was a bit too old to be my mother, but I never questioned her about it.

It was very common in our town for landlords to build multiple rooms on a big lot. Mama had her own plot of land, which she used to build additional homes that she would rent out to the locals. I grew up in such an environment until I turned 10-years-old.

We had two loving male relatives who also lived with us. One was the godfather of Mama’s two older boys; both had passed away before my birth. The other man was a godfather to relatives in my family. They both treated me as their own child, even giving me a monthly allowance. My upbringing was the true picture of a village raising a child.

My half- brother (who is 5 years older than me) also visited us occasionally. We shared some similarities, particularly our love for learning and desire for schooling. In the small town where I grew up, education came secondary, especially for girls, so it wasn’t uncommon to be surrounded by illiterate people. For the most part, I had to figure out the challenging homework assignments on my own. I remember staying up late to do my homework and study. The following morning I would rise at exactly 4:30 AM to do my morning prayers, and study ahead to earn good grades. Because of this, I was allowed to skip grade-levels until I reached my older brother’s class. The adults always praised me for my achievements, and the teacher even placed me in the same sixth-grade classroom as my brother. Although this was great for me, it created animosity between us. He hated the fact that his little sister sat in the same classroom as him; it didn’t help that I outperformed him academically as well. Jealousy and animosity lasted many years between us.

Everyone in the compound loved me and treated me as their own little girl. I would start my day with breakfast in my own home; then I would have lunch next door; and dinner would be served wherever all the children happened to be playing at the moment. That was and still is one of the many parts of the Ethiopian culture I love the most.

Growing up, we also watched as visitors came through our home for social gatherings, sometimes even staying the night. There was this one lady in particular who came to visit my family. Her name was Zewede, a merchant woman who owned multiple businesses in several small towns. She visited our home once or twice a month, just passing through. I never knew her relationship to my family, and since I was a proper little girl who didn’t speak much, I never asked how everyone was related to one another.

In the Ethiopian culture, we were raised to call everyone around us (relative or friend) Uncle and Auntie. It was and still is very common for many Ethiopian families and friends to live close to one another; so as you can imagine, I had several Aunties and Uncles. Everyone was family.

When I was about 9-years-old, my half-brother came to live with us again. It was at this time when he decided to tell me that Mama was actually our grandmother. He went on to say that I was the first child from my mother’s second marriage, and that my grandmother insisted on taking me when I was just a baby to raise me as her own child. He said my biological mother’s name was Zewede, the same lady who visited us once or twice a month.

I was completely confused. Could this be? Was she actually my mother? I asked myself. So shocked of the news, I went to Mama and asked her about it. She was not pleased with how I discovered this knowledge, but she did confirm the story. She told me she removed me from my mother when I was only six-months-old.

She continued to explain, my mother now had three other children (one girl and two boys) and they all lived in another small town about 100 miles away from us. I was told that I would be able to see them for the first time. It was quite strange meeting my siblings, but at the same time, it felt good to know my new brothers and to meet my only sister.

As I think of “Mama,” wonderful thoughts fill my heart. She was full of love, peace, compassion, and humility; she was a smart business woman who practiced integrity. She had such a gentle soul. She was a kind-hearted woman who truly enjoyed helping everyone around her who was less fortunate. She was a woman of faith (Orthodox Christian) who never missed a day of church for as long as I remembered. She was beautiful and graceful but very reserved with her words; yet she loved to laugh and enjoyed the company of everyone who lived around her.

Mama was not rich by the country’s standard, but she was rich with intelligence, which she used to help create a business. She managed to live a comfortable life. I remembered how she would buy and store all kinds of grains during season. Then she would sell them off-season three to four times more than the cost she paid. (Of course, she would always follow the market trend). She also had rental properties, which helped increase her income....

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 22.11.2021
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Biografien / Erfahrungsberichte
• ISBN-10: 1-6678-1185-1 / 1667811851
• ISBN-13: 978-1-6678-1185-7 / 9781667811857