The miserable weather conditions were very reflective of the ravaging screams and the deplorable scene of death with countless mutilated corpses all around the deserted camp.
Aluel, the beautiful Ethiopian lady who had become my protector, was internally imploring and entreating with her tears and supplications a Sovereign that at that time I could not even grasp the very authenticity of. Nevertheless, deep in my heart, I knew very soon a rescuer would approach to our salvation.
Nearby the weighty "hum-shack, hum-shack, hum-shack" of the brutal soldiers' muddy boots reminded us of our antagonists, come to expedite the demise of the Jurbile and Dinka tribes. Our typical blue and blissful sky had changed to a dark, shadowy, and murderous constellation of fumier.
All the enemy "leopards," disgraceful and demanding, were interminably, strong-mindedly set on annihilating our cattle and folks in Southern Sudan. All this bloodshed, shooting, and fracas; why?
In my brain I continually rummaged around for a substantial answer to this devastation and desolation. In the encryption of life in Southern Sudan it was nowhere to be found. What was the most important priority that should be given more consideration? Was it oil (petrol), diamond, gold, or human beings?
I wanted to return hastily to find my family, to where they had killed my half-brother, Big Deng Akon but Aluel held me back and prevented me from going by whispering tenderly into my left ear, "Little Deng Akon, please, please, I do not want you to go back there because they will kill you like your brother!"
It was thorny for me to listen to her empathetic voice as I was so determined to return for my family. A torrent of tears dripped from my face as constantly as the raging rain of Noah's deluge.
I told her eagerly and vigorously in my serious Jurbile accent, "Listen, Aluel, I just met you; I understand that you have tried to help me, but this is my brother; I have to help him from this situation!"