Hello, my name is Nye Kyn, although that’s not the name I was given at birth. My story is not an easy one. You may find it sad, and some parts are, but it also a story of hope.

I come from a country that you may have heard of, or perhaps not. It’s a beautiful country, with grassy plains bordered by dense, lush bush, sparkling rivers and water holes and fertile soil for growing all manner of food. Sadly, my country has been locked in bloody conflict for many years, brought about by those who care little for the land and its people, but are driven by their greed and hunger for power. Backed by the military, these men rule my country through fear and violence. Resistance groups have formed and fight back with equal cruelty and ferocity. And those that pay the greatest price are the people, like those in my village, who just want the chance to live a gentle life, farming the land, fishing the waters, raising their children.

My village was like so many others, small and self-sufficient. But both the Government’s soldiers and the Resistance fighters took turns to ransack the village, taking food and livestock and whatever else they desired. The Resistance even took many young boys and girls to become fighters for a cause they neither understood nor accepted. My mother managed to hide her two youngest children, these being me and my younger sister, but my two older brothers were dragged away. My father, who was away from the village when this happened, decided to go after his sons’ captors and retrieve his boys. That was four years ago and neither my father nor my brothers have ever been seen or heard of again. My mother still cries at night. I hear the soft sobs she tries to stifle, but each day she rises resolute to ensure that her two remaining children are fed and cared for. But it is getting harder to find food and I know that my mother also fears that I am now old enough to be taken to be a resistance fighter.

One day, my mother sat down with me and told me that it was time that I leave the village. I was very confused and frightened and thought I had done something wrong, but she said she would be coming with me. The next day, my mother placed a small pack on my back and on my sister’s back too and she carried a larger one on hers. There was not much left in our little hut, but my mother laid out cups and plates and other items that were once a part of our daily life in the middle of the floor. She explained that as we were not coming back, these things were being left for any of the remaining villagers who could make use of them. She then took my sister and me by the hand and we walked out of the village.
We walked for many weeks. My mother had been saving food for a long time, which made me realise that her plan was not a sudden one, and we supplemented our supplies with anything edible we managed to forage as we walked. I was very hungry but stopped complaining when I discovered that my mother was going without food so that my sister and I could have more to eat. I was constantly frightened and there were many times we scrambled to hide, pressed to the earth under bushes, as military or resistance fighters drove by, their vehicles bristling with guns and hard-faced men and boys.
Finally, after what seemed an interminable nightmare, we started to see houses and buildings where once was bush. My mother explained that this was the outskirts of a great port city and our destination. I didn’t know what a port city was so my mother explained that it was where boats and ships came and went. When we arrived into the port city, I was amazed. I had never seen so many people, or cars and trucks, donkeys and goats pulling carts and the smell was unlike anything I even had words for.

That night we slept in a dusty park in the city with many other weary travellers. My mother explained that everyone in the park was waiting to leave in the days to come. I was so confused and had many questions, but my mother told me to go to sleep as tomorrow the real journey would begin.
Early the next morning, we walked down towards the jetty where my mother left me in charge of my little sister while she searched for someone. I saw her talking to a man standing on the jetty by a boat that was sunk low in the water with the weight of all the people that were crammed on to it. She was waving her arms and pointing at my sister and me, and at one stage she fell to her knees and looked up at the man, her hand clasped in pleading before her. The man just shook his head, and I could see my mother’s shoulders slump. Then she stood and from her pocket she removed a tin and handed it to the man. I saw something glinting taken from the tin and realised with horror that it was my mother’s gold wedding ring, which she had seemingly lost when my father disappeared. I realised that she must have buried the ring for safe-keeping and now I understood why she had been so stoic when I thought she had lost the ring. It was not just her most prized possession, but also a symbol of the love my parents shared, and I was alarmed that she appeared to be giving it to the strange man with the boat.

Then she turned to my sister and me and beckoned us over and we hurried to be by her side. My mother placed her hands on my shoulders and looked deep into my eyes. She told me that I was going on the boat with the strange man and that I must be strong and brave as she and my little sister would not be going. I started to complain that I didn’t want to go anywhere without them, but she placed her fingertips on my mouth to silence me. Then she did a very strange thing. She said, that from that moment I had a new name, and that name was Nye Kyn, which means “dearest hope” in our tongue. She said that I must now always be Nye Kyn, but I was not to forget that I once had another name, as this would show me where I had come from and how far I had to go to be her dearest hope. She took food from her pack and put it in my pack and then hugged me one last time. My little sister started to cry and, with tears glittering on her face, she wrapped herself around me in a fierce embrace. And then my mother nodded to the man with the boat who impatiently picked me up and swung me into the boat, the already tightly compacted human cargo barely able to make room for one more skinny boy.
I’m not going to detail the journey on that leaking vessel of human misery. It was everything you have probably heard about, or tried not to, and then some more. I won’t detail the smell of the rotting boat, dirty desperate people confined to sit in their own filth, vomit, diarrhea, the moans and groans of people wondering if it would be better to die than continue on this hellish journey and those that finally did succumb, to be tossed into the sea’s dark embrace. I won’t detail the fear that the boat would sink or break apart or the terror when sudden weather caused the decrepit vessel to be tossed upon waves that broke over our heads. But all these details will remain with me my whole life, a part of my very being.
I was only around 9 or 10 years old when I started that journey, but I when I safely stood on dry land after days, weeks, a lifetime on that cruel sea, I was a child no longer.
I was fortunate to be resettled in a small village in my new country. Being appraised as a young child travelling solo, I was easy to place with a family willing to take me in. The people I now live with are very different from me (as I am from them) and sometimes I feel very lonely. They may not always understand me, and I don’t blame them for how can good, decent people really understand the evil that drove me from my homeland, but they have opened their doors and their hearts to me. I don’t yet have the words to tell them what their kindness means to me, but I hope one day to be able to show them by my actions.
I have heard nothing about my mother or sister, despite several attempts by the authorities in my new country to locate them for me. Like my father and brothers, they live large in my heart and my memories.

I am studying very hard, and I hope to go to University one day. My whole life is focused on being in a position to help make change in my homeland. To lead real change through proper government – one that recognises the importance of education, proper economic management, equity and accountability and provides a real chance for my people to live happy, constructive lives, raising their children with the hope of a better future.

To fulfil my mother’s “Dearest Hope”.

My name is Nye Kyn and this is the story of my hope for the future.