This one was a quick read for me. It was only about 250 pages long, but I also read it quickly because, as the protagonist’s story became ever darker, I pushed on as fast as I could to see him make it out of the whale and back to some semblance of a life.
Ishmael Beah was a normal kid in rural Sierra Leone in the early 90s. This changed when civil war destroyed his village and sent him on a long, painful journey. I was acquainted with many African refugees during my time in Portugal, but these were mostly from former Portuguese colonies: Angola, Mozambique, Guinea-Bissau. They had some war stories, but nothing quite like this one. I vaguely recall some news reports about civil war in Sierra Leone but I had no idea it was this bad. This kid was dragged into a maelstrom of violence. His stories of run-ins and involvement with the militias that ruled the countryside are not for the faint of heart: the account of the violence is almost clinical, like a medical examiner, so that you almost forget that he is an eyewitness and (sometimes) a participant.
Despite the horror of the conflict, I was cheered by Ishmael’s determination to survive, especially when he made it away from the front lines and began the road to rehabilitation. I read the second half of the book in one sitting because I was so anxious to see what happened to him in the end. Ultimately the tone of the book is more sobering and reflective than depressing, and it certainly made me conscious of (and grateful for) the blessings we have in the United States.
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