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19 of 19 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Up from slavery, October 31, 2003
The cruelty that Francis Bok experienced at age seven--and which he recounts here--defies civilized human conception. One day in 1986, his mother Marial sent him to Nyamlell's market from their Southern Sudan Dinka village of Gourion to sell eggs and peanuts. His father Pial Bol Buk had recently called Francis "Muycharko"--"like twelve men." He would be successful and achieve something important. Eventually, as this book bears out, his father's hope proved prophetic. But in 1986 Francis could count to no more than ten and still played alweth and Madallah--Dinka hide-and-seek and cricket. His mother sent older friends to supervise his first independent market trip. The Catholic boy nicknamed Piol, for rain, that day lost his childhood and world to the murahaliin. After torching the nearby villages and slaying their inhabitants, 20 light-skinned Juur horsemen charged into Nyamlell. They severed the heads of all Dinka men with single sword strokes, left them rolling in the blood-soaked market dust and stole Piol's older friends Abuk, Kwol and Nyabol. A rifleman permanently silenced a crying girl with a bullet to her head. A swordsman sliced off her sister's leg at the thigh. Francis tried to flee. Terror squelched his cries. He was halted at gunpoint, grabbed and slung astride a small saddle, crafted specifically (as he later recognized) to carry abducted children, and ridden far north. Bok recounts the role he played in pushing President Bush to toughen and sign the Sudan Peace Act on October 18, 2002. As he points out, this made Americans increasingly aware of Sudanese Islamic government support for mass enslavement and genocide of Southern Sudanese Christians and animists. But as he also notes, while there may be some kind Muslims, the ongoing genocide against 2 million Southern Sudanese Dinka is merely a modern manifestation of Islamic tradition in Sudan and elsewhere throughout North Africa. Francis Bok recognized in his treatment an institutionalized cruelty. He was beaten, forced to tend and sleep with animals, fed rotting meat, and cursed as a jedut--maggot--even after his master pressed a Muslim name and prayers on him. Abdul Rahman ironically means "servant of the compassionate one." But there was not one second of compassion during Bok's 10 years of captivity, although he was one of the lucky ones. He many times tried to escape, and failed. His penalties were mere beatings. Other Dinka escapees routinely lost their limbs when recaptured. Giemma Abdullah threatened the same; Bok didn't believe him, until he saw other Dinkas, limbless. Finally, at 17, Francis Bok took the cows one morning, and from the road near their grazing area ran all the way to Mutari. After further privations and imprisonments, Bok finally hid in a truck en route to ed-Da'ein, fled to Khartoum, to Cairo, and as a refugee, in 1999, to the U.S. He landed in the U.S. poor, illiterate, and 20. But Bok admits that he was like all its victims unaware of the jihad institution's name or history. During 10 long years of enslavement by Giemma Abdullah in Kerio, Bok learned that the Arabic word abeed carried three meanings-"slave," "black" and "filth." Half his lifetime among Muslims taught him that they considered themselves better than Southern Sudanese infidels. But this hardly educated him on the institution to which his 20th century captors and masters subjected him. The privations Bok suffered and the constant jihad in Sudan are typical of those suffered by non-Muslims, as pre-eminent Islamic scholar Bat Ye'or notes in The Decline of Eastern Christianity. Rudolf C. Slatin's In Fire and the Sword in the Sudan (1896), recounts 10 years of captivity by Khalifa Abdullah, searching for slaves and booty in Christian and animist regions. One finds similar accounts by Greek historian Speros Vryonis Jr. and in Nobel laureate Ivo Andric's 1924 Ph.D. thesis, Development of Spiritual Life in Bosnia under the Influence of Turkish Rule and in the October 20, 2003 issue of the Vatican-vetted La Civiltà Cattolica. Francis Bok's book recounts his journey to freedom, education and the fulfillment of his father's dreams. This account resounds with the voice of twelve men, speaking as it does for the enslaved Dinka masses, still suffering razzias in Southern Sudan--and for non-Muslim dhimmis across time. --Alyssa A. Lappen
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