Ishmael Beah

As she was telling me these stories, I thought to myself, I wish I'd had the strength and the wisdom to go to that place and escape all the madness that I'd record during the war.

But I was a child and I hadn't gone anywhere as my grandmother had traveled.

After she finished telling me, she asked me what my story was and I told her that I now lived in New York City, that I had written a book about my experiences in the war because I fought in it as a child.

And she thought about it and she said to me, where is this land that you talk about in New York?

And how does one get there?

And I explained to her the time it would take, the plane and everything.

And she said to me, are there, and I asked her, would you like to come and visit or perhaps stay with me in this land called New York City?

And she thought about it for a little bit and she said, will there be elders that I'll be able to exchange thoughts with?

And I said, well, it's not the same as here.

You don't see many old people wandering around just like that.

She was quiet for a bit, and she said, you know, I will stay here in my beautiful village and home, and you will come and see me every time I say so.

She pointed her hand at me, and I said, yes, of course I will do so.

And I remember her face just as it was when I was a boy.

It was very calm, as if she had slept for centuries.

And so we sat and talked.

I stayed with my grandmother forever.

for weeks and weeks, close to a month, just exchanging things.

But it was very difficult to do so because at the end of the war, when you found somebody that was close to you and you were exchanging pleasantries with them about what life had been, sometimes you could not do it in front of your neighbors.

Because people who walked by, seeing this, it reminded them of people they could not be able to find.

So we had to hide sometimes.