Eyob

The pool hall was filled with men. Samara went in and came back moments later with a tall man in a baseball cap with an Alaskan company’s logo on it. He was tall and strikingly handsome. He introduced himself as Eyob. He would be serving as our main liaison and translator for the afternoon as we collected data from parents and children about their reading interests, goals and habits.  He asked me if he could have a few minutes to finish up his game. When he came back, we started walking to his home.

He told me about his life in Eritrea.  He was Tigrinya and he lived by the ocean. He was forcefully conscripted into the military and served in the trenches during the border war with Ethiopia. After that, he went to university and studied IT. As per custom, upon graduation, the government assigned him to a civil service position, where he served for 13 years without remuneration. “I was like a slave.” He said.  To make ends meet, he worked in an Italian restaurant where he cooked seafood, and primarily shrimp and lobster. He preferred shrimp, he told me, because lobster was such a common food in his seaside town. He used red and white wine in his cooking, he told me with pride. His home, which he shared with his wife and two children, had a small balcony and faced the beach. He and his family went swimming in the ocean on a frequent basis.

Upon arrival at his new home, in My’Ayni refugee camp, we settled under the overhang of his stone house. His wife set about making a coffee ceremony and he gathered his son and some neighbors to sit with me. I began asking about the ages of his two children and some basics about their education status. His daughter, he said, was 14. His son was 10. She was in grade 6 and he was in grade 2.  His face changed a bit as he explained that they were both two years behind because of the process they went through to arrive in Ethiopia.  He went on.

In 2007, Eyob’s friend was murdered by government officials. For what reasons I do not know, but I assume he presented some kind of a perceived threat to them. Eyob began to plan his escape, fearing the same outcome for himself. He sold all of his belongings, raising USD3,000. He paid a friend to fly him and his family to the Sudanese border. He intended to get to Ethiopia but he explained that if the Eritrean military caught him at the Ethiopia/Eritrea border, he would be killed. If he was caught by them at the Sudanese border, he would be put in jail. The choice seemed obvious to him.

Once in Sudan, he paid an additional USD1K to smugglers to safely secure his and his family’s entry into Ethiopia. He and his family were some of the first arrivals in My’Ayni and he had become a community leader as a result. He proudly showed me the notebook he bought for his son to encourage him to do extra English practice outside of school.  His dedication to his children was obvious.
He talked about how he was called to the camp’s primary school one morning because his son had gone missing. He was later found in the river that runs behind the school, swimming. In seeking an explanation for his truancy, Eyob’s son told him that he missed their old home and the ocean water that was only a few meters from their balcony. I could tell that Eyob was not sure how to explain to his son that by forgoing the ocean water off the coast of their homeland they were safer and laying the foundation for a new and better life.