A Story of Transformation: 'The Journey of Turning Scars into Stars - From a Child Soldier to a Humanitarian,' by Ishmeal Charles.

Book Review - 'The Journey of From a Child Soldier to a humanitarian,' Ishmeal Alfred Charles

Reviewed by Josephine Kamara

In 'The Journey of Turning Scars into Stars - From a Child Soldier to a humanitarian,' Ishmeal Alfred Charles offers a touching account of his experience of war, how his childhood was snatched and forcibly recruited as a child soldier and his journey to his life purpose. In this book, he weaved together personal anecdotes, historical reflections, and his philosophical insights about life and humanitarian work. As Charles aptly puts it from one of the rebel commanders, 'Mercy equates to vulnerability,' and this sentiment underscores the harsh ideology that fuelled the wickedness of the rebels during Sierra Leone's 11-year civil war. Through Charles’ lens, we relive these experiences and witness the transformation of scars into stars—a testament to resilience in the face of adversity.

One of the most compelling aspects of this book is its rich portrayal of Sierra Leone's pre- and post-colonial history, the devastating impact of eleven-year civil war and the subsequent challenges of post-war recovery. Charles’ narrative serves as a powerful reminder of the importance of preserving history and telling our own stories. Too often, narratives about African conflicts are shared through a Western-centric lens, foreigners keeping accounts for us and narrating our past. Sierra Leoneans have been telling stories about the war, mostly narrated orally or presented through artistic expression like paintings. However, this memoir, just like Joseph Ben Kaifala’s account on Adamalui: A Survivor’s Journey from Civil Wars in Africa to Life in America and Ishmeal Beah's account on A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, offers a refreshing and authentic perspective that generations after us will use as a reference point to learn about the important events that took place in Sierra Leone. 

While the theme of war and brutality permeates the narrative, I found myself yearning for a deeper exploration of the freedom-fighting ideology these young rebels held that fuelled the conflict. The frustration of young students grappling with entrenched corruption and the subsequent exploitation of mineral resources provided a nuanced backdrop to the conflict - this same freedom-fighting narrative is what led the National Provisional Ruling Council (NPRC) to institute a huge recruitment drive for the military in a bid to end the war. Many young people joined because they wanted to be part of this "New Military Regime" that was going to end the war - at that time, what these young people knew as participation was their involvement in movements that could end the war. These young men who were insufficiently trained became more violent than even the rebels and ended up inflicting some of the greatest atrocities during the war, yet this aspect felt underexplored in this book. Nonetheless, Charles’ first-hand account offers valuable insights of the war through his own lens and its lasting impact on individuals and communities.

I was particularly drawn to the author’s writing style, which skilfully interweaves humour and poetic language. Lines such as 'Stranded in that unforgiving wilderness' and 'The looming specter of death became an uninvited companion' evoke a vivid sense of atmosphere and emotion. I love to play with words so maybe this could be the reason why I appreciate his skilfulness on this area. Additionally, Charles’ reflection on his maternal instinct – referring to these lines, "My maternal instinct strongly conveyed her longing to hear from me, a sentiment any mother will feel when her child is trapped behind enemy lines"

For a male protagonist to describe his 'maternal instinct,' a sentiment typically associated with motherhood, departed from traditional gender norms and adds depth to the portrayal of familial bonds and in my opinion. I am not quite sure if this was the author’s aim, but I feel it challenges societal expectations, prompting me as a reader to reconsider preconceived notions about gender and parenthood or what motherly instinct feels like. There are interesting takes on gender roles especially in the first two chapters, that gave a vivid picture of patriarchal structures and norms - these could have been an interesting theme to explore deeper. 

I am particularly drawn to his humble beginnings, as it feels familiar to me. Charles imbues it with a sense of importance and as a young person myself navigating life's uncertainties, I resonated with the struggles and his unwavering determination to pursue his dreams. The questions he asked himself on the 'Turning Scars into Stars' chapter, and how he mustered all his energy to keep his dreams alive even in dark days, captures the essence of a resilient spirit. I believe his offerings here will resonate with readers of all ages.

With regards to the author’s writing style, I love how he worked out the interesting twist of how fate connected his early work back to Kono, the place where, in his words, he was abducted and recruited as a child soldier and into the mining industry. Fate, they say is not mere coincidence, but the workings of destiny and if that is true these occurrences were divinely orchestrated.

'The Journey of Turning Scars into Stars - From a Child Soldier to a humanitarian,' is indeed compelling testament to the resilience of the human spirit. I deeply appreciate Charles’ philosophy of altruism and his commitment to making the world a better place.

The author’s narrative infuses hope into the hopeless, reminding us that light always awaits at the end of the tunnel and urging readers to confront their own adversities and turn their scars into stars. As we are reminded in these lines:

“Each of us possesses a unique story – one of despair and courage, loss and victory, past and present. By harnessing our stories, we can find solutions to ongoing social issues that threaten our happiness.”

 Josephine Kamara was a 2023 Poda-Poda Fellow. She is a girls’ rights advocate with 10+ years of experience.

Yema Lucilda Hunter’s Road To Freedom: A Family and National Tell-Tale

Yema Lucilda Hunter’s Road to Freedom ( later republished as Seeking Freedom)* retells the story of the foundation and existence of the settler community in Sierra Leone. Considered her magnum opus, Hunter’s novel weaves the subtleties and realities of a migrant family into the descending air of characters’ search for identity. In the book, the Dixon family’s holy grail seemed eternally evasive and invariably unreachable, for what comes across as a benefit for a devout Christian family was the grant of a royal permit to freedom. Their liberty, ironically, cannot be shoehorned to a higher God, but tied to the scruff of a superior nation, the King’s United Kingdom. When Steinbeck highlighted America’s Dust Bowl condition in his celebratory treatise, The Grapes of Wrath, the writing of flight fiction and escapist literature blossomed to the global literary scene, permeating communities where oppression and repression forced families and individuals to flee their homes in search of greener pastures.

On a cross-continental scale, the equivalence of this is Road To Freedom as a family in silence and [in growth] yearn for their personal liberty which has been mortgaged on the hearthstone of politics and feud. Properly conceived of as historical fiction, the novel has at its core, the universal themes of quest for freedom, clash of cultures and identity crisis. Hunter presents a nuclear Nova Scotian family whose latter years would be spent in Freetown, Sierra Leone, as a settler group. They would be confronted with the harsh vagaries of a new land to wit, animosity from natives, inclement weather, lack of funds for survival, and struggle for an identifiable governance structure. Before that, they would have to bear the brunt of a neglected social contract etched between their forefathers and Great Britain—the well-known promise from Britain to formerly enslaved Africans who fought on their side in the venturesome American War of Independence. Their freedom was a drum roll, clipped by the ribbons of Her Imperial Majesty, and tethered to the uncompromising discretion of the British government.

The fictional figurehead character Brother Thomas Peters is a real personality whose contribution to the establishment of Freetown is as immeasurable and profound as his character role in the novel. He is the saviour of the Dixons and other freedom-hungry families in the novel whose unceasing vespers seek the benevolence of God in guiding his journey to England. Without any doubt, Hunter has elevated this side of Sierra Leone’s history to the reader’s sixth sense—instead of the dry and wry sale of historical accounts by historians, an emotional and cathartic flair has been laced into the story’s style and language. England-bound, Thomas Peter’s sojourn is presented in an enlivened episode; occasioning a frenetic outpour of wishes of good fortune, prayers for safe reach, and splenetic farewells from the aging to the aged. Suffice to say that the author’s willed desire to present such situations dovetails with our thirst for unbridled freedom, glorying in our environment where we can relate with society unrestrained. From economic independence to political autonomy, we will not balk at any chance that comes with such reprisals. The events are old, but the relevance must be told and rung in the minds of succeeding generations that revolutions and wars are imminent should our freedom be continuously seized; this, to the very least, is part of the author’s purpose in knitting this timeless revelation together.

Hunter’s motifs help parboil the exposure of her underlying messages. Death, broken promises, failed marriages, power struggle and prayers are the novel’s recurring issues which unfailingly culminate in its overall message, that freedom is exaggerated. Mankind, God’s insatiable being, is always on the move for more. Freetown was established in the late 18th century as a haven for liberated Africans, founded based on Christianity and carved on the path of Westernisation. Hunter leaves no stone unturned in rewriting this checkered history of a great nation through the perspective of the Dixon family who are subject of the vicissitudes of daily life in a new world. The author is adept at moulding into a literary block, the early developments which unsettled the Province of Freedom: from the struggle for land, the issue of quit rent, the uncertainty of company rule, sporadic immigrant rebellion, to British takeover and disruption of the administrative and legislative autonomy which was once the domain of local leaders in the settler community.

One would not chuckle at the writer’s language and characterisation. There are no conspicuously invidious characters who will make the reader wince; neither are there dominating characters who will eel the reader toward them by disregarding the other relevant bits and pieces of the story. Told from the first-person narrative, the facts of the story can seem manipulated by the narrator-cum-character Deanie Dixon. Whether the narration is exaggerated or not is a deliberate attempt by the author to compete with historians and political scientists who think and say a thing or two about the history of Sierra Leone.

In a nutshell, Yeama Lucilda Hunter, a Sierra Leonean of Afro-Caribbean descent, presents a realistic portraiture of a people flickering between distress and momentary delight in a new country.

*Editor’s note: Road to Freedom was later republished as Seeking Freedom. The book is now both known as Road to Freedom and Seeking Freedom.

Sulaiman Bonnie is a 2023 fellow at Poa-Poda Stories. He is a writer, law student and teacher. He lives in Freetown, Sierra Leone.