Cruz Selest Mifoundou Kengue 

November 2, 2020

Cause & effect 

Final draft

 

Battlefield of Life

 

Most Africans who decide to find shelter in other countries leave because of politics or living conditions. Twenty-three years ago, there was a conflict in Congo-Brazzaville between the current President and the ruling President. At that moment, the disagreement was between the Republic of Congo and the rebel group called "Ninja." Citing electoral fraud during the 1997 parliamentary elections, the resistance, also known as the Ninja, launched a civil war against the elected President DENIS SASSOU NGUESSO and his soldiers. The conflict started in the South of the Congo, leaving 2,000 people dead and many more displaced. President DENIS SASSOU NGUESSO fought back with huge missiles despite remaining in power without thinking about the population. As a result, People were fleeing all over the country without knowing where to go, and innocent people died in cruel conditions just because of power. My grandfather, a former colonel, had to send his first son to France two days before the war. Besides, my great-grandmother got killed in a forest in the middle of that war. My father's decision to go to France had a profound effect on my mother, childhood, and siblings. 

In the beginning, my mother was desperate to raise a child on her own. My mother was eighteen years old when she got pregnant. When she was nineteen, my grandparents sent my dad to France. She had to go to school and had to work on the weekends while looking after me. Moreover, my mother had never lost hope. She wanted to go back to school to finish her studies to get her diploma for a better life. For instance, I had to stay with my grandparents while my mother was working during the day and going to school at night. My mother could no longer trust my father's family after sending him to France. My grandparents were taking good care of me financially, but no one wanted to talk about my father when I asked about him. It had become evident for my mother that she was all on her own. However, At twenty-four, my mother had passed her medical school exams and started her internships in hospitals and clinics until she found a job. After ten years, my mother became an anesthesiologist and got married, but she never had any other children beside me. As my mother always says, where there's life, there's hope.

Consequently, it was difficult for me to live without a father. Because of my father, I felt abandoned and unimportant. My only father figure was my mother's father. When I was two years old, my mother's parents, my great-grandmother, my mother, and I had taken refuge in my grandmother's hometown when the rebel attacked the village and starting to shoot all over the town. As she fled into the forest, my elderly great-grandmother could not walk, and she was shot in the back. The circumstances had forced my family to flee and leave her body behind in that forest like a lifeless beast. Growing up, I had to face situations that had pushed me to realize that I did not have the chance to know my birth father at that time. All my classmates made fun of me for not having my dad in my life. However, after five years, my father had started to send us presents without any letters. He surely thought that should fill the emptiness of our lives. Specifically, on holidays, I was receiving gifts, we didn't celebrate in Congo. Despite his efforts, I preferred to believe in Santa rather than in the existence of my father.

Hence, living with my siblings was a strange experience at first. At ten, I met my father for the first time, and he had explained why he was sent to France at twenty-two years old, to prevent him from being sent to war because of his father's statue and why he could not contact us. In France, he had remarried and had two children with a French woman. Furthermore, the idea of going to France and met my siblings was terrifying but also existing. First, I afraid and did not want to accept that I had siblings who were not from my mother. I had refused to speak to them for months, which made them believe that I did not like them. Besides, I had a completely different education. For instance, my mother had taught me never to answer when someone older reproached me something. As for my little brother, he could not stand a reproach even when he came from his parents. Therefore, I was confused and had difficulty adjusting to my new life, so did my siblings.

To conclude, the civil war had a significant effect on my mother, siblings, and me through the years. He had been through tough times, and it had taught me to appreciate even the smallest family moments. Without my father, I've never lacked affection and love from those around me. I was too young to remember my experience during the civil war, and I barely pictured my great-grandmother's face. However, I know that the circumstances in which my great-grandmother died will always remain a trauma for my family. Although I had a difficult childhood, I was convinced that everything would end well. After all,  hope is the thing with feathers.