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- A History of Long Walks to Water in Sudan | Excerpt
A History of Long Walks to Water in Sudan | Excerpt
A Long Walk to Water begins as two stories, told in alternating sections, about two eleven-year-olds in Sudan, a girl in 2008 and a boy in 1985. The girl, Nya, is fetching water from a pond that is two hours’ walk from her home: she makes two trips to the pond every day. The boy, Salva, becomes one of the “lost boys” of Sudan, refugees who cover the African continent on foot as they search for their families and for a safe place to stay.
Those were the best days. When one of them man- aged to kill a ground squirrel or a rabbit, a guinea hen or a grouse, the boys’ aimless play halted and there was sud- denly a lot of work to do.
Some of them gathered wood to build a fire. Others helped clean and dress the animal. Then they roasted it on the fire.
None of this took place quietly. Salva had his own opinion of how the fire should be built and how long the meat needed to cook, and so did each of the others.
‘The fire needs to be bigger.’
‘It won’t last long enough – we need more wood.’ ‘No, it’s big enough already.’
‘Quick, turn it over before it’s ruined!’
The juices dripped and sizzled. A delicious smell filled the air.
Finally, they couldn’t wait one second longer. There was only enough for each boy to have a few bites, but, oh, how delicious those bites were!
Salva swallowed and turned his eyes back towards the teacher. He wished he hadn’t recalled those times, because the memories made him hungry . . . Milk. When he got home, he would have a bowl of fresh milk, which would keep his belly full until suppertime.
He knew just how it would be. His mother would rise from her work grinding meal and walk around to the side of the house that faced the road. She would shade her eyes with one hand, searching for him. From far off he would see her bright orange headscarf, and he would raise his arm in greeting. By the time he reached the house, she would have gone inside to get his bowl of milk ready for him.
CRACK!
The noise had come from outside. Was it a gunshot? Or just a car backfiring?
The teacher stopped talking for a moment. Every head in the room turned towards the window.
Nothing. Silence.
The teacher cleared his throat, which drew the boys’ attention to the front of the room again. He continued the lesson from where he had left off. Then—
CRACK! POP–POP–CRACK!
ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK!
Gunfire!
‘Everyone, DOWN! ’ the teacher shouted.
Some of the boys moved at once, ducking their heads and hunching over. Others sat frozen, their eyes and mouths open wide. Salva covered his head with his hands and looked from side to side in panic.
The teacher edged his way along the wall to the window. He took a quick peek outside. The gunfire had stopped, but now people were shouting and running.
‘Go quickly, all of you,’ the teacher said, his voice low and urgent. ‘Into the bush. Do you hear me? Not home. Don’t run home. They will be going into the villages. Stay away from the villages – run into the bush.’
He went to the door and looked out again.
‘Go! All of you, now!’
The war had started two years earlier. Salva did not under- stand much about it, but he knew that rebels from the southern part of Sudan, where he and his family lived, were fighting against the government, which was based in the north. Most of the people who lived in the north were Muslim, and the government wanted all of Sudan to become a Muslim country – a place where the beliefs of Islam were followed.
But the people in the south were of different reli- gions and did not want to be forced to practise Islam. They began fighting for independence from the north. The fighting was scattered all around southern Sudan, and now the war had come to where Salva lived.
The boys scrambled to their feet. Some of them were crying. The teacher began hurrying the students out the door.
Salva was near the end of the line. He felt his heart beating so hard that its pulse pounded in his throat and ears. He wanted to shout, ‘I need to go home! I must go home!’ But the words were blocked by the wild thumping in his throat.
When he got to the door, he looked out. Everyone was running – men, children, women carrying babies. The air was full of dust that had been kicked up by all those running feet. Some of the men were shouting and waving guns.
Salva saw all this with one glance.
Then he was running, too. Running as hard as he could, into the bush.
Away from home.
About the Book - A Long Walk To Water
A Long Walk to Water begins as two stories, told in alternating sections, about two eleven-year-olds in Sudan, a girl in 2008 and a boy in 1985. The girl, Nya, is fetching water from a pond that is two hours’ walk from her home: she makes two trips to the pond every day. The boy, Salva, becomes one of the “lost boys” of Sudan, refugees who cover the African continent on foot as they search for their families and for a safe place to stay.
Enduring every hardship from loneliness to attack by armed rebels to contact with killer lions and crocodiles, Salva is a survivor, and his story goes on to intersect with Nya’s in an astonishing and moving way. Includes an afterword by author Linda Sue Park and the real-life Salva Dut, on whom the novel is based, and who went on to found Water for South Sudan.
About the Author - Linda Sue Park
To read more, order your copy of A Long Walk To Water, by Linda Sue Park today!
₹ 499
- Or buy from your local bookseller.
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