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The Translator: A Tribesman's Memoir of Darfur

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There are a number of compelling memoirs by Sudanese authors such as They Poured Fire On Us From The Sky (2005), What Is the What (2006), and at least 4 more by or about "The Lost Boys" of southern Sudan. As the conflict has moved north and west, like birds flying before the storm, we are now seeing a new wave of heartbreaking memoirs arriving from the Darfur region. Each story is as unique as the person telling it, and all offer a glimpse into a world few know about because western journalists have so much difficulty working in the country, thus making this first-hand narrative by a native Darfurian a unique and important source.

As a young man Daoud Hari witnessed the destruction of his idyllic rural village by modern Russian-made helicopter gunships and, like the logs of a raft breaking apart in the rapids, he and his family spun off in many harrowing directions. Hari decided early on that he would "use his brains and not a gun to make a better life" for himself. After arriving at a refugee camp in Chad, his skill at languages allowed him to work as a translator and guide for westerners on fact-finding trips across the border into Darfur. On about his 7th trip in August 2006 he became embroiled in an international incident with kidnapped National Geographic journalist Paul Salopek, making headlines around the world. Through the help of friends Hari was able to get out of Sudanese jail and move to the United States, where he now works for SaveDarfur.Org

Hari's easy to read book is an excellent entry point for learning about the Darfur conflict. A nine-page Appendix called "A Darfur Primer" is, the author says, what any Darfurian in a bar would know about their own history. Hari's book contains the most complete version yet of Pulitzer-Prize winning Paul Salopek's 2006 harrowing kidnapping ordeal, taking up nearly the last third of the book; Salopek has not yet published an account, he was severely beaten and almost died (a fate nearly shared by Hari). Hari tells us about the unintended consequences of the Iraq War, saying "Torture was the popular new thing because Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib were everywhere in the news at that time, and crazy men like this were now getting permission to be crazy." Finally, Hari is perhaps most remarkable for never loosing his humanity despite the horror around him, reminding the reader "loosing a baby is hard. It doesn't matter where in the world you live for that." This is a wonderful memoir, intelligent, thrilling, educational, recommend highly.

I was hesitant to purchase this book because the writing seemed very simple as I skimmed the book in the bookstore; however, it is this simple prose that empowers the journey you take with the author. From the opening story of his life being saved by a Journalist to the closing account of the torture and eventual freedom granted to him (don't worry, this doesn't reveal a surprise ending - after all, he did write the book), you feel that you are being told a story in the simple traditional form of an African tribal legend. Sadly, this is no legend!

When I read about the little girl killed by a soldier in a horrific way, I wept. When I read Daoud's commentary on why Darfur marriages last so long (they sleep separately), I laughed. What struck me was how much this man and his family has suffered and, yet, he laughs. He can teach us much about suffering and the ability to continue to believe and hope.

The more important part of the stories, however, is the part that should make us scream for change in the way we have dealt with this genocide and others like it. It's time to take faster action. When we have to wait until there are over 1000 stories to be heard (in order to decide if it is genocide), there's something VERY wrong with our process.

The author makes you feel like you've walked the sandy world in which he grew up. You feel as if you've ridden a camel, pushed a Land Rover out of a ditch, survived a beating and crossed borders illegally for the sake of human life. Why? Because he tells the story in very simple English, which makes you feel your hearing about it all from a child's mind. You connect with the story much as a child envisions she is in a traditional fairy tale. Very powerful!

The author ended his story by saying that he didn't think he stood a one percent chance of being saved from rearrest and possibly being traded back to the government of Sudan, which would likely kill him. Then he said of those odds, "for me, that was pretty good." Indeed, he was able to escape to work outside of the country and, among other things, write this book. I think we have to ask ourselves this: Are we going to give better odds to the people of Darfur and other such nations or are we only going to look at "past" holocausts like World War II and give the lip service "never again"?

Yes. This book has changed me.

I cannot recommend this book to you enough.

Unfortunately, the only thing that 99.999% of the world associates with the word "Darfur" is death, hate and tragedy. Daoud Hari's small memoir reminds the reader that Darfur was once home to millions - a place of family, friend, play and work.

That is the strongest asset of this short work - it puts a human face on a large tragedy. Written in simple, elegant English and with a wry sense of humor ("Most people like me, are tall - I am six feet - and are also a little thin because of all the walking, the hard work and the dieting that is one of the many advantages of poverty."[p. 108]), this book is an extension of Hari's way of fighting back against the forces that are destroying Darfur. Rather than taking up arms, Hari decided to expose Darfur to the world by escorting journalists from Chad into Darfur in Sudan.

This was not a choice for the faint of heart. Journalists and their guides were considered to be spies by the government of Sudan. Hari and his journalists were exposed to gunfire, captured multiple times and eventually one group was captured, tortured and eventually released through the efforts of former presidential candidate and New Mexico Governor Bill Richardson.

Before reading the book, I suggest reading "Appendix 1: A Darfur Primer" at the end of the text. It helps give his story some context.

In the modern Western world, vivid documentary photojournalism plays an important role in how we world learn about major world events. However, when the story is genocide, the visual record can be so horrific that most people instinctually flinch and turn away, unable to bear the sight of so much human suffering. Croatia, Rwanda, Darfur--we are bombarded by harrowing nightmarish images.

It is easy to see why most people might not want to read a book about genocide. But they fail to realize that books work on the brain in an entirely different manner than images. A well-conceived book can promote understanding and provoke action. Take "The Translator: A Tribesman's Memoir of Darfur" by Daoud Hari as an example. Readers would be making a grave mistake if they turned away from this powerful and unforgettable memoir. This book is more than a recounting of genocide. It is a fierce story of heroism and survival--it is also a loving lament to a culture and people on the brink of extinction.

This book is definitely not what you might expect. There are no indictments against the international community's indifference. There is no anger--no blame. Instead, there is a calm heartfelt recounting of three years in the life of one tribesman working as a translator for Western journalist covering the story of war-torn Darfur. The years covered are 2003 through 2006. During this period, the author took immense risks to lead first a team of UN genocide investigators, and then six separate teams of Western journalists into dangerous war-torn Darfur. That he has come out of these ordeals alive is a miracle.

Daoud Hari tells an incredible story! For the last one-third of the book, I found myself gripping the book, unable to tear myself away before knew what happened. Compelling is a word that hardly does this book justice!

Although most of the book deals with the three years that he served as a translator, the author also tells us briefly about his early childhood. These are fascinating tales that bring to life the ancient and vibrant culture of Darfur's peoples.

As a young boy, Hari demonstrated a gift for languages. He was proficient in Arabic as well as his native Zaghawa language, but he also learned English. He learned it so well that could easily lose himself in the English classics--books like Brontė's "Jane Eyre," Stevenson's "Treasure Island," Dickens' "Oliver Twist," Orwell's "Animal Farm," and Paton's "Cry the Beloved Country." His father wanted him to become a camel herder, but Daoud had a head full of dreams. He took off for Libya and found work as a restaurant worker in rich hotels serving international tourists. Later, he tried to smuggle himself across the border into Israel to get a better paying job, but ended up first in an Israeli jail, and then later transferred to an Egyptian jail. Eventually, he was freed to return back to Darfur. He arrived home in 2003, a day before his village was savagely attacked. First, came the Sudanese government helicopters raining down bombs and machinegun fire. After a short interval, this was followed by the "Janjaweed" ground troops intent on killing and destroying everything in their path. His village fought back and many were killed and maimed. Fortunately, the author escaped with most of his family to a refugee camp in neighboring Chad. It is there where western journalist discovered his translating talents.

Working with the UN genocide investigators and journalist, Hari met face to face with countless victims. He hears their stories and tells many of them again in the pages of this book. The scenes of massacre are related with exquisite sensitivity and maturity. Yes, there are descriptions of unspeakable atrocities. But this book is also brimming with humanity--stories of strong family ties, devotion, and love. Overwhelmingly, it is the goodness of man that shines through this horrifying true-life tale.

Don't miss this remarkable book. It will leave you with a better understanding for the nature of genocide and for the complexity of the ongoing situation in Darfur. Most of all, it will stir you to action...after all, that is surely the author's intent--the author must still feel he is fighting the battle for his people, and he is doing it with the one tool he knows best: his extraordinary gift for language.

Daoud Hari was born to the Zaghawa tribe in Darfur, the westernmost region of Sudan. At the age of 13, Daoud's father sent him to live in the city of El Fasher, located in North Darfur, to further his education - and distance his youngest son from the Sudanese military raids that were just beginning to foment the genocide in Darfur. Upon completion of his studies, Daoud traveled to Libya in search of work, and then on to Egypt and Israel. Daoud was apprehended while trying to cross the Gaza Strip in to Israel, and because he was deemed an "illegal immigrant" (his visa only allowed him to enter Libya), he was sent back to Egypt. There he was imprisoned as he awaited deportation back to his native country of Sudan - where he would surely be executed for his supposed "defection." Incredibly, a kind Egyptian jailer contacted Daoud's friends in Cairo, who in turn reached out to the United Nations and Human Rights Watch. Daoud was eventually freed and allowed to "sneak back" into Sudan through Chad.

This is only the beginning of Daoud's amazing and inspiring story, however. During his time spent "seeing the world," the conflict in Darfur erupted in government-sponsored genocide. Daoud's homecoming quickly turned into a rescue mission: as soon as he reached his village, he and his family were forced to evacuate as the Sudanese military and the government-backed militia groups called the Janjaweed tore through Darfur, bombing villages, battling rebel groups, raping and kidnapping women and children, and massacring members of the Fur, Zaghawa, and Massaleit ethnic groups. Luckily, Daoud did not become one of the estimated 200,000 to 400,000 to die at the hands of the Sudanese Army, but he does represent the more than 2.5 million persons displaced by the conflict.

After finding safety in neighboring Chad, Daoud volunteered to serve as a translator for non-governmental organizations and journalists. While some of his childhood friends chose to take up arms against the Sudanese government, Daoud's education afforded him a unique opportunity to advocate for his people by assisting in the distribution of aid and spreading word of the atrocities unfolding in his native lands. THE TRANSLATOR: A TRIBESMAN'S MEMOIR OF DARFUR is the story of Daoud's risky work as a translator: sneaking across the Chadian border into Sudan (and back again), cultivating relationships with rebels and militia groups, navigating the shifting alliances and, above all else, trying to guide his employers safely through their travels so that they might bring awareness to the plight of millions of Sudanese refugees through their reporting.

Curiously, Daoud's account of his journey back into Sudan from Chad in order to find and flee with his family has a strangely detached feel to it. I can't help but compare it to Ayaan Hirsi Ali's INFIDEL, which I recently finished. Born in Somalia and raised in Ethiopia and Kenya, Hirsi Ali eventually settled in the Netherlands and, later, the United States. While she was living in Kenya, a civil war broke out in Somalia, and many of Hirsi Ali's clan members unsuccessfully sought refuge in neighboring countries. At one point, she volunteered to travel to Somalia with a friend of her brother, who wanted to find his wife and children and smuggle them across the Kenyan border to safety. In contrast to Daoud's journey, Hirsi Ali's account is filled with danger and suspense. Perhaps this difference is because Hirsi Ali's situation was more precarious; she and her companions, of which there were many, had to bribe their way into Kenya, which was not accepting Somali refugees. In contrast, Chad has opened its borders (however grudgingly) to Sudanese peoples displaced by the conflict. Either way, and without revealing too much of the THE TRANSLATOR's story, I found Daoud's subsequent forays into Sudan to be increasingly tense and gut-wrenching. His last mission, the climax of the book, is truly amazing.

While Daoud's life certainly is extraordinary, the true message of THE TRANSLATOR is in how ordinary Daoud is. After all, Daoud is just one of three million plus Sudanese tribespeople to be killed or displaced by the genocide in Darfur. These three million people are fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, grandparents, grandchildren, cousins, friends and kin. They are three million individuals with unique life stories - and a shared fate. Every few weeks, you might read about "them" in the paper, or see a brief segment about the war on your local 6 o'clock newscast. "Them." "The Other." It's simply too easy to think of "them" as a mass, a crowd, a faceless throng suffering a world away. What Daoud has done in THE TRANSLATOR is give these refugees names, stories, lives. THE TRANSLATOR bears witness to their unquantifiable suffering, and entreats you, the reader, to care about their stories, and act on their behalf.

This book is amazing! I knew the situation in Darfur was bad, but this narrative makes it more real. Some of the things that have happened over there are worse than unforgivable. I wish I could go over there and stop the horror right now, but I'll have to settle for raising awareness and other "small" things I have the power to do. I highly recommend this book. You should read it, then write to your congressmen, urging them to push the government into doing something more to stop this nightmare. There are men out there who I would no longer consider human because of the atrocities they have committed. It's time for them to be stopped!

OK, lets start with the good points first;

Daoud Hari is the sort of man many guys would like to be. Someone who has aspired to self improvement and does what is expected of him as a man of his people. This book is a testament to both his courage and also his selfless behaviour in the face of adversity and as such it will inspire many readers and for that he deserves praise as do the people who got his story out into the wider community.

The book moves in a fast paced style and is told in the first person and relates the story of this mans eyewitness account of the breakdown of law and order and the genocide within the Darfur area of Sudan. It pulls no punches in calmly retelling brutal firefights, deaths and dismemberments and as a father some of it was pretty hard to read. But hey, this guy lived it, so if he can do that then I owe it to him to read it yeah?

Anyone going to be stationed with the UN, international military or other humanitarian agencies in the Darfur region will probably get quite a bit out of this book as it will serve as a primer at a human level.

And now to the downside;

No matter how brave you are, no matter what your intentions, the simple fact is that the way you tell a story can make or break the deal. And certainly as a storyteller that makes the reader feel like he is there Mr Hari is not so successful. But whose fault is that - as the book makes plain these are his stories as told to Dennis Michael Burke and Megan M. McKenna. So to tell the truth I lay the blame on the lack of connectivity firmly on their doorstep. This book should of been a rousing call to something deep inside the reader, instead it reads like a catalogue of events and that dryness means the reader isn't as affected as perhaps they'd hoped.


The overall effect of this book on my was far less than I'd hoped. That is in no way a denigration of the authors like or experiences. Nor any downplaying of the situation in Darfur. It's just that this book falls into the average category as an overall piece of work but still one I'm glad to have read.

I wasn't sure I wanted to read this book. I was dreading the horrible stories, the Rwanda-like massacres, the neverending awfulness that would make me want to weep if I wasn't so numb from hearing it all day every day from the CNN loop. At some point the numbers get so large, it's impossible for to comprehend and I just shut down. I really didn't want to read it. But I'm tremendously glad that I did.

Part war memoir, part genocidal survival guide, part humanitarian challenge, Daoud Hari's slim book is a triumph. I have no idea how one can endure what he has endured and still remain so human, let alone exhibit the tremendous spirit Hari shows here. Along with the horror stories I was dreading so much (ashamed as I am to say that), are the testimonies to our individual and collective strength as human beings. Over and over again, Hari challenges us to put ourselves in his shoes, to relate as if it were our town, our home, our sisters, daughters, fathers, cousins. What if it happened to us? Would we be so brave? Would we be destroyed or keep going? Would we do everything we could knowing we could die in the next minute? Would we rage at God or renew our faith?

My favorite chapter is a small one. Nestled in tiny Chapter 10, Hari describes the refugee camps in detail for the first time, a sea of bright colored fabrics from the clothing and makeshift decorating of the women and girls, all sweltering amid the temporary shelters made out of canvas and plastic tarps. And there it is. "Canvas and plastic make very hot shelters in a desert, and these were what the world had sent - exactly the wrong thing and not nearly enough of it." I couldn't believe it. It's so obvious! What were we thinking? What had we done? Did we just send scraps of material we didn't need? Was it intentionally ridiculous or just some horribly embarrassing mistake? There's no way of knowing, but it again drove home the point that paying attention to the details of life's necessities can make the largest difference. If just one of the brilliant architects competing to build the next mall in Dubai would instead focus their energy on building practical, portable, sustainable refugee housing that could be deployed at a moment's notice anywhere from Darfur to Palestine, we could start to alleviate the suffering of millions of the displaced.

For those that have suffered so much, the least we can do is shine a spotlight on their stories. I'm ashamed for delaying my reading; I'm trying to make up for it by telling everyone I can about Hari's book and, by engaging in meaningful dialogue about the crisis in Darfur, determining if there's maybe one more thing I might do to help.

How does anyone survive? Nothing is hospitable neither the inhumane climate nor the "human" society.

Daoud had a short adult life before this war. He got an education and saw some of the world through restaurant work. He spent some time in the prison systems which was merely prologue for what was to come.

Most teenage males are recruited by one army or another, and they join for a meal. For those with skills like driving, mechanics or languages, choices are more complex. They can join an army, a government, an aid organization or the press... but the end result is most likely the same.

When you think of the combination of skill, luck and outside intervention that resulted in Daoud's survival, you have to mourn for all the others. What is the best probable future for the 14 year old soldiers he encounters or the 2+ million people in the refugee camps? What changes and what resources are needed to give this large a population a shot at a decent life?

This book is a fast read, but before you start, its best to read the synopsis of this war at the end of the book. It's only a sketch, but a starting point to understand the no-win situation the people of this region are in.

Daoud Hari is indeed a blessed man to have survived capture and imprisonment- risking his life to tell the world of the human tragedy called Darfur. This book speaks volumes of his profound courage and of the brave reporters and others who ventured right into the line of fire so that the world will know. The heartbreaking descriptions of the carnage is hard to read at times, but I am most haunted by the child sitting in the grass who stopped crying and waved goodbye as Daoud and the news crew had to run for their lives. This is one man's tale of survival on a tragic journey and his willingness to fight injustice. He is blessed because there are those who must survive to tell the world. We can each make a difference.