The Heart of the Atwot

The Heart of the Atwot

The morning sun had barely risen over Lion Country when eleven-year-old Lual led his family's goats toward the grasslands. In the distance, he could see the cattle grazing near the seasonal camp. His father was already there, watching over the family's herd, while his mother prepared the morning meal at their home. Lual loved the dry season. The family moved with the animals to find good grazing land, and he enjoyed spending time with his cousins at the cattle camp. He knew the paths between the grasslands, the water sources, and the villages almost as well as he knew his own home.

But that morning, something was different. For weeks, people had been talking about the fighting spreading through southern Sudan. Travelers brought news of villages abandoned and families forced to leave their homes. Lual's parents tried not to frighten him, but he noticed the worried looks they exchanged whenever strangers arrived. Then, as Lual guided the goats back toward camp, he heard shouting in the distance. People began moving quickly. His father called for everyone to leave. The family gathered what they could carry, but in the confusion, Lual became separated from his mother and father.

"Stay with the others!" his father called. Lual tried to follow, but the crowd moved in different directions. He hurried after a group of people, certain that his family was just ahead. When he finally stopped, the familiar faces were gone. He was alone. Lual called for his mother. He listened for his father's voice. There was nothing familiar in the noise around him. As the sun began to set, he found a place to rest beneath a tree. He thought about his younger sister, who always followed him around the village, and wondered if she was frightened without him.