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Homeland: An Extraordinary Story of Hope and Survival
 
 
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Homeland: An Extraordinary Story of Hope and Survival [Hardcover]

George Obama (Author), Damien Lewis (Contributor)
4.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (3 customer reviews)

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Book Description

January 5, 2010
In this remarkable memoir, President Obama's Kenyan half-brother, twenty-seven-year-old George Obama, describes his unique struggles with family, tribe, inheritance, and redemption and the seminal influence his brother had on his own future. The elusive father that both brothers shared died when George was only six months old. George was raised by his mother and stepfather, but after they separated, he drifted into gangs and petty crime. Restless, willful, and troubled, he lost himself in Nairobi s vast Mathare ghetto. After being framed for an armed robbery he did not commit and spending time in jail, he represented himself at his trial and won the case. Vowing to turn his life around, he finished his education and set up the George Hussein Obama Homeland Foundation to help street youths overcome the miseries surrounding them.

'This is a true story. It happened to me between the year of my birth and the present day. A very few of the names in this book have been changed, and I have done so in order to protect those individuals. Kenya is at times a lawless and dangerous place, especially in the ghetto. When you read my story you will understand why such changes may have been necessary.'--author's note from the book.

--This text refers to the Audio Cassette edition.

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About the Author

George Obama lives and works in the ghetto in Nairobi, Kenya, under the auspices of the Huruma Centre Community Youth Group, and The Mwelu Foundation. He is presently setting up the George Hussein Obama Foundation to further his ghetto work.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


PROLOGUE


You know, they said this day would never come. They said our sights were set too high. They said this country was too divided, too disillusioned to ever come together around a common purpose. But on this January night, at this defining moment in history, you have done what the cynics said we couldn’t do.

The man’s voice boomed out from the tiny TV screen on the shelf above the bar in Kenya where racks of bottles and glasses sat protected behind thick metal bars. His speech was as strong and unyielding as those cold steel bars, the voice resonant, deep, and powerful, like a rich promise of hope.


In lines that stretched around schools and churches, in small towns and in big cities, you came together as Democrats, Republicans, and independents, to stand up and say that we are one nation. We are one people. And our time for change has come.

In the crowd behind the tall, copper-skinned man who was speaking, I could see a bunch of mostly white people—mzungus as we call them in Kenya—smiling and cheering ecstatically, and waving blue placards with the man’s name on them, or red ones emblazoned with the slogan Stand for Change.


We are choosing hope over fear. We’re choosing unity over division, and sending a powerful message that change is coming to America.

This was the voice of a man who in the winter of 2008 had the promise of becoming the next U.S. president. But more than that, perhaps, this was the voice of a man who might truly make history by becoming the first black president of America. But to Kenyans like us, this was first and foremost the voice of a man who was Africa’s lost son, for as far as we were concerned, he was half-Kenyan and hailed from one of the foremost tribes in our country—the Luo.


The time has come for a president who will be honest about the choices and the challenges we face, who will listen to you and learn from you, even when we disagree, who won’t just tell you what you want to hear, but what you need to know.

Unlike every other black Kenyan in that bar, I had a unique and special reason for listening to those words. For the man delivering this extraordinarily rousing speech was my half brother, a brother by blood, but one that I had barely known.


This was the moment when we tore down barriers that have divided us for too long…. This was the moment when we finally beat back the politics of fear and doubt and cynicism, the politics where we tear each other down instead of lifting this country up. This was the moment.

From the wild cheering of the crowd, and his repeated appeals to them personally—“You said… You heard… You called…”—I felt as if the people of America knew this man far better than I, and felt a more personal connection to him, and yet he and I shared the same father. We had lived two separate lives, a world apart, yet in a sense we were joined forever by birth. And that was the strangest thing of all for me; that was both the closeness and the gulf between us.


Years from now, you’ll look back and you’ll say that this was the moment, this was the place where America remembered what it means to hope.

I glanced around the sparse bar, with its plain and yellowing walls. A bare concrete balcony looked out over the noisy, chaotic streets of the ghetto. Old men and young clustered around the chipped Formica tabletops, gazing at that screen and listening with something like rapture. Not a soul in that bar cared much for Kenyan politics, which seemed forever mired in corruption. But in this man—in their lost African son—Kenyans saw their own promise of hope and change that might somehow shine a light into the dark heart of Africa.


For many months, we’ve been teased, even derided for talking about hope. But we always knew that hope is not blind optimism…. Hope is that thing inside us that insists, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it and to work for it and to fight for it.

Hope. He used that word a lot, did my big brother in America. Yet for so many years hope had been an alien concept to me. During my darkest, lost years the very concept of hope had been closed to me. It was only relatively recently that I had learned again what it meant to know and to feel the true spirit of hope.


Hope is what led a band of colonists to rise up against an empire. What led the greatest of generations to free a continent and heal a nation. What led young women and young men to sit at lunch counters and brave fire hoses and march through Selma and Montgomery for freedom’s cause.

After living a life of relative privilege, I had crashed and burned in my teens, and I had lost all hope. I had migrated from the plush Nairobi suburbs to a life with the city’s street kids, and from there I had been sucked into the wild chaos of the ghetto. I had lost myself in drink and drugs, and I had become a gun-toting gangster, caught in a life of violence and crime.


Hope—hope is what led me here today. With a father from Kenya, a mother from Kansas, and a story that could only happen in the United States of America.

At the mention of our country the crowd in the bar jumped to its feet, cheering wildly. What would the drinkers think, I wondered, were they to realize that Barack Obama’s half brother sat in their very midst—George Obama, an unremarkable resident of the Huruma slum.


Hope is the bedrock of this nation. The belief that our destiny will not be written for us, but by us, by all those men and women who are not content to settle for the world as it is, who have the courage to remake the world as it should be…

While he was striving to become president of the United States, I was a slum-dwelling ex-prisoner and ex-gangster. And with each day that my big brother’s fame and status grew, I knew deep within myself that my anonymity couldn’t last. In a day, a week, a month, whatever, someone would inevitably make the connection—we shared the same father, but had different mothers—and venture into the closed and dangerous world of the slums to track me down.


We are the United States of America. And in this moment, in this election, we are ready to believe again.

Sure enough, the journalists and reporters came into my ghetto homeland in droves. Having my long-lost brother win the American presidency would prove both a blessing and a curse.

Not even he could erase the darkness and the shame in my past. Only I might do that, by helping build for the people of my slum homeland a better and a brighter future. And one step at a time I reckoned we were getting there.

© 2010 George Obama and Damien Lewis


Product Details

  • Hardcover: 320 pages
  • Publisher: Simon & Schuster; 1 edition (January 5, 2010)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 1439176175
  • ISBN-13: 978-1439176177
  • Product Dimensions: 9.2 x 6.3 x 1.2 inches
  • Shipping Weight: 1.2 pounds (View shipping rates and policies)
  • Average Customer Review: 4.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (3 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #1,495,444 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars Enlighting and thought provoking, February 26, 2010
By 
ETU (Orange County, CA) - See all my reviews
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This review is from: Homeland: An Extraordinary Story of Hope and Survival (Hardcover)
A personal account and insight on how he dealt with abandonment from his father figure. The turn of events that caused both a distructive lifestyle and another event that brought him to evaluate what he wanted for his future...one that was to be productive and rewarding. The view of a ghetto that is universal I was left with the new meaning of "family" in a ghetto,and embracing the responsiblity to help our fellow man with a vision of hope. In the end the philosophying became a bit preachy. However, I was left with the need to read how this young man continued his life / lifestyle. Will there be a sequel?
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3 of 4 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars Dreams from my Father part deux?, March 1, 2011
This review is from: Homeland: An Extraordinary Story of Hope and Survival (Hardcover)
This book is George Obama's story, one that runs parallel to a similar one told by his more famous older brother, our president, Barack. It is about how the missing father figure, Barack Hussein Obama senior (BHO1), impacted the younger of the two Obama's "manhood self-construction project."

We enter the story just as George's mom becomes pregnant out of wedlock with her second child (Marvin) by a white French AID worker, Christian. Life as a middle class Kenyan family goes quite "swimmingly" so long as Christian (who marries George's mom shortly after Marvin is born) remains part of the family. However a mystery pivotal to George's life (and one infinitely larger than a missing biological father could ever be), occurs when Christian abruptly abandons the family. The mystery however has two parts; one that George discusses; and the other than remains unaddressed in the very pregnant subtext? The story thus is not just about why Christian "ups and leaves" the family, but also about all of the un-ask (and probably unanswerable) questions of why George's mom was having sex with a white man (in the heart of black Africa) in the first place? Both parts of the question, at least in principle, implicates the mom at least as much as they do the stepfather? And equally important, a similar theme also runs through George's big brother's life psychology as well.

Although George's very emotional and financial existence does seem to have revolved around "having a white stepfather," even after confronting Christian seven years later, George still leaves us with no answer to this pivotal first part of the mystery? And what is especially curious is the fact that Christian continued to live right there in Nairobi working in an office building, in plain sight? Despite this, George nevertheless weaves an interesting but ultimately unconvincing narrative that it was Christian's abrupt departure that was the sole reason for the family's financial demise, and for George's own life choice to lead a life of crime on the margins of Nairobi's inner city ghetto that sent him into a tailspin that made him the "black sheep" of the Obama family, and that he is even now just recovering from.

In this sense, the author's narrative is yet another version of the now familiar social trope of "the missing black father figure" syndrome. Here, as elsewhere (including in Barack's own story "Dreams from my father), this story too is designed to reinforce and further convince us that it is the "missing black father" that is solely responsible for the descent of so many young black inner city boys into crime, low achievement and drugs?

But as is the case with so many other books based on this trope, I am not buying George's rationalization of (in his case) the "double missing father" trope either? I found his story unconvincing for the same reasons as all the others: It too fails to deal with the second part of the mystery, which is invariably present in most of these cases: The unanswerable and (perhaps even un-askable) questions about the Obama brothers' respective single mother's sexual virtue?

This second sub-theme IS the 800-pound Oedipal gorilla sitting in the back of the minds of all young boys who live with sexually active single moms, and who are at the same time themselves engaged in their own "manhood construction projects," where they are also modeling how they too will soon become suitors for some female's attention. It is this mixed-up matrix of feelings, hormones, insecurities and uncertainties that has to be sorted out and that runs along the periphery of the subtext of the Obama brothers stories that looms large. Arguably it is a much much larger problem than that of the "missing biological father (and stepfathers)" ever could be? Yet, in both stories, this very potent Freudian factor is either left out entirely, or remains untouched in the subtext of the narratives of the Obama brothers books?

It is not a small matter at all that both brothers arrived at the frontier of manhood with mothers of questionable virtuousness and who became pregnant out of wedlock by men of another race in cultures that at least were sensitive to, if not frowned upon such sexual encounters entirely? And yet both of the Obama brothers failed to mention the importance of this palpable and weighty fact to their respective life stories?

Thus to cut to the chase, both the Obama brothers had mothers who could be considered by the cultures of which they were a part, to be sexually adventurous (if not down right sexually promiscuous). And the best evidence of this is that both of their moms got pregnant and eventually married men AFTER their pregnancies. And it is Not just a coincidental fact that they did so with men who just happened to be from outside of their own race. The Freudians tell us that these are huge Oedipal matters in the minds of young boys who have nothing more important to think about than their mother's virtuousness. Plus, even in mostly Moslem Kenya where there is at least no institutional racism, marrying outside one's race is still almost as defining an event as it is in a profoundly racist country like America, especially during the 1960s when Barack's mother, Ann Stanley Dunham, dated and married Barack Hussein Obama senior.

And while both Obama brothers tried to minimize this pivotal Freudian event, (focussing more on why they had the common middle name Hussein), it does not take much analysis to understand how their "mothers' sexual virtue" became the much weightier mystery bearing down on their young psyches than the missing biological father figure: In these still developing young lives, the crowning mystery was not questions about the psychologically remote and symbolic "missing father BHO1," or about the common middle name of Hussein, but about the sexual virtue of their much more proximate, moms.

In fact, one could just as easily have argued that the missing father was little more than a straw man: a convenient psychological "cover:" both for the respective mothers, who used it as a distraction from all the palpably un-ask (and unanswerable) questions about her own sexual virtue. And in the case of the sons, as a way for them to avoid having to confront what it really said about their mother's sexual habits and virtue that both got pregnant before wedlock to men of other races?

This in a nutshell was the psychological dilemma central to the Obama brothers' respective "manhood construction projects."

They both dodged the dilemma in different ways. Barack's was somewhat more subtle in his facility for dodging than was George. Barack, arguably the more perceptive of the two brothers, turned it (and what obviously must have been perceived as a colossal betrayal by his mom when she sent him back to Hawaii to live with his grandparents just as he arrived at the age of sexual inquisitiveness), into quiet rage that (like it did George) also sent him briefly off the rails while in Hawaii. After this betrayal, Barack, obviously and quietly, faced the facts and the demons rattling around in his brain about his mom's sexual virtue by simply jettisoning the unnecessary psychological baggage altogether: Ann Stanley Dunham and all. In short, his way of dealing with the issue was apparently to punish her by "distanced" himself from her altogether, in a cold never-ending "lifelong juvenile pout."

The best evidence of this is the fact that not only did he seldom mention her in his two books, but also because he didn't even attend her funereal? Thereafter (as was also the case with George), after his mom effectively abandoned him and moved to South Korea, Barack also went it alone.

The jettisoning of Ann Stanley Dunham's sexual past (along with her being as a whole), was young Barack's way of finally reaching the age of maturity. Without ceremony or rationalizations, Barack Hussein Obama II, simply cut the psychological umbilical cord that had weighted him down with so many unanswered (and un-askable) questions about his white mother, Ann Stanley Dunham's, sexual virtue and became his own man. His manhood construction project was complete. QED.

George, on the other hand, had his white stepfather "Christian's abandonment" as a global all-encompassing fallback rationalization to cover for all of his sins and failures -- as well as to shield him from the more fundamental truth haunting him about his mom's sexual virtue? He was thus able to "milk" the "Christian abandonment excuse" for all it was worth. [After all, his little brother, Marvin, Christian's own child, did not "crash and burn as a result of his father having left him?"] In short, by not facing up to what was "really" bothering him, George's unresolved dilemma turned more and more inwards until he effectively imploded and committed psychological suicide. This began his descent into his own self-made hell: living on the inner city streets, eating out of garbage cans, mugging innocent people, turning to a crime-ridden street gang, and into a four-man Nairobi crime wave until he was arrested on a trumped-up charge.

But arguably, all this self-destructive "acting out" was more about the unresolved issue of his mom's virtue than about having a missing white stepfather or a long-lost biological father? It was the inner lie that he (and Barack) lived about their respective mom's virtue, that propelled him to crash and burn, not the abandonment by Christian. It was the lie he had to tell himself each day about his mom's virtue and why she first had sex with and then made Christian leave that turned him into "the Mumba," not the pain and hurt of Christian's departure, per se.

From where us Freudians sit, it seems all but self-evident, that neither case of the Obama brothers problems... Read more ›
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5.0 out of 5 stars A Great Read, September 6, 2011
By 
David Klein (Chicago,IL USA) - See all my reviews
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This review is from: Homeland: An Extraordinary Story of Hope and Survival (Hardcover)
This books is well worth the read. Georege Obama's story is at times heart breaking and in the end inspiring. To see and feel all the adversity he had to go through in his early years, and to see that in the end he not merely survives but even thrives is truly remarkable.
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