A personal account of Miriam’s journey to tHeArt of Her

FYI: this story contains deep and otherwise “risqué” imagery of a family’s brush with danger

  “Surrounded by light.”

The summer before senior year, I was "Locked in,” a term most used by my generation to describe someone driven. I have become quite interested in speeches, specifically The Power of Education from the former first lady Michelle Obama. "Experiences are not my weakness,” she stated. I find this relatable to how my life has functioned since I was a child in Bukavu, Democratic Republic of Congo. 

My life took a turn on September 13, 2008; I was asleep, unaware of what was about to unfold. The front door was opened, then immediately a group of people announced themselves by gunfire that flew throughout the house. I witnessed my dad become a hero as he shoved the bedroom door in the gunmen’s faces. I dashed under the bed and stayed paralyzed for what felt like decades. Eventually I was pulled out by the neighbors and my eyes saw a scene I’ll never forget on the floor. My mom sustained a head injury after being struck by an AK-47, while my dad had seven gunshot wounds. 

As I stepped into the rain, more neighbors rushed past me into my house. That day, something valuable was taken from our family that no one in our house ever talked about. I was literally chased out of my house, out of my country.

For two months in Congo, I relied on strangers to give me food and a bed. During this time, I was separated from my parents until they managed to save enough money for transportation and to secure an apartment in Kenya.

Growing up in Nairobi, I experienced nightmares that caused my body to rapidly lose weight. One vivid nightmare was when I heard a soft knock at the door and saw my mother through the peephole, but when I glanced back in the kitchen, I saw her actually preparing fufu. Startled, I rechecked the peephole and suddenly the door swung open, throwing me against the wall. The nightmare ended as I woke up on a Matatu– a Kenyan bus. I had a few dreams like that but every time it was a different demonic presence attempting to invade my home. 

I began mud molding and discovered it was therapeutic. It turned off my thoughts like a light switch and gave me a sense of hope. My family and I left Kenya after three years because I was still living in fear due to issues like gun violence near my primary school. Therefore, we flew to America in the hope of finding peace.

Moving forward in my Junior year, I took a ceramics class and unexpectedly revisited my childhood memories. In those years, working with clay helped me cope with family challenges; as my father was diagnosed with diabetes, requiring constant care, and my mom faced stomach issues. This left me to take more responsibilities in caring for my seven brothers.

I’m not sure what next year holds, but I have that same burning hope for my future that I discovered in Kenya. At that moment I refused darkness to rule my thoughts- I spotted the light and I took a hold of it. The odds might be stacked against me at present due to my family financial situation but I know that I will prevail, because I’m surrounded by light.  

When I looked back on my childhood, my experience in Congo made me realize that I want to spread the truth across the world. Many remote areas have gone through terrible experiences and their stories often become buried. I want to use the opportunity that was given to me when I arrived in America, safer environments and a chance to gain an education, to bring awareness and change to the world by majoring in international studies and Journalism. I am not afraid to pursue my career as a War Reporter because my experience has only made me resilient. 

END