I must confess, I am a sucker for a good book jacket and when I really think about it, I would bet that about 75% of the time that is what lures me into picking up a book.
With this being said, I was perusing Lemuria’s newest books two weeks ago and the cover of Susan Minot’s newest novel, Thirty Girls, enticed my eyes. I began to thumb through it because I was familiar with Minot’s previous works, such as Evening. Soon I discovered that I must have this book for a variety of reasons. Honestly, Thirty Girls hit a personal chord with me as soon as I read the inside jacket synopsis:
“Esther is a precocious Ugandan teenager who is abducted from her Catholic boarding school by Joseph Kony’s rebels and, along with twenty-nine of her classmates, forced to witness and commit unspeakable atrocities in the Lord’s Resistance Army.”
Now, let me just start with the name that hit me first: Joseph Kony. Joseph Kony and I go way back. Actually, I have known Kony since 2003. I first heard of his ruthless, power hungry, havoc-filled, and sadistic behavior when I was a freshman in college.
Time for a little history lesson: in Kony’s attempt to form his own centralized government, a war began that has now spanned over fourteen years in Uganda; and eventually Kony’s men started to flee. Kony had no other choice but to go to small villages, kill copious amounts of people, and those that remained he would enlist as soldiers. For example, Kony would line children up. These children would be as young as four and could be old as fifteen (still impressionable). Kony would go down the line, one by one, asking each child if he would join his army. If the child refused, a soldier would shoot him point blank. The next child in line would witness this, have the same question asked, and would hopelessly join. The girls who were abducted would become “camp girls” for the older soldiers. The girls would be defiled and beaten. When a girl was allowed to leave due to a trade or exchange or escaped, she would try to return home. Yet, upon returning home she would find that her parents and village did not want anything to do with her due to her being “unclean.” These girls with nowhere to go would often commit suicide, go back to the army camps, or live their lives in exile.
You and I were going about our ordinary lives as these events were taking place. Now let us flash-forward to 2003. A group called Invisible Children was at that time comprised of three people: Jason Russell, Bobby Bailey, and Laren Poole. In the spring of 2003 Russell, Bailey, and Poole traveled to Africa to document the War in Darfur. Instead, they changed their focus to the conflict in northern Uganda, Africa’s second longest-running conflict after the Eritrean War of Independence. They began to focus on the abduction of children who are used as child soldiers by Joseph Kony and his Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) and made a documentary. People all over the world became aware of Kony. The only things that mattered were saving these children and abolishing Joseph Kony. (You are probably wondering where in the world I am going with this but I promise I will piece all of it together.)
I want to focus on another name: Esther Akello. Esther Akello, one of the lives the novel Thirty Girls follows, has experienced and witnessed horrors that no pre-teen girl should ever be forced to endure. Now, she is striving to adapt in a rehabilitation center. Esther, like many of the girls, has become unfeeling as her mind struggles to handle what she has been forced to undergo.
“How were our days? We searched for food. We gathered vine leaves and cooked them. We ate cassava leaves, simsim, boiled sorghum. We carried the radio, carried water, and were always thirsty…”
Susan Minot’s description in explicit and direct detail, allows Esther to recount the ritualized rapes and sometimes impregnation, the beatings, the dehumanizing of these previously wholesome girls. The story haunts the reader and helps them become aware of the horrors that only Joseph Kony could enact.
Having known about Invisible Children and attending the numerous events that the organization held for the abducted children, I was immediately reminded of another child like Esther: Grace. Grace, like Esther, was abducted when she was only ten years old. At thirteen she was forced to be a sex slave for a rebel commander 40 years older. By the time she was sixteen, she managed to escape the bush only to find out that she was pregnant. I had to read this book and I needed to know what would happen to Esther. I could not disconnect the story of Grace from Esther’s.
Yet, Esther’s is only one part of the story. The other interweaving story line focuses on the character Jane Wood, who struggles to know what she wants out of life. Jane, an American writer, meets Lana while working together in London on a film set. Lana, a native of Kenya, extended an open invitation to come and visit and Jane, needing something new and exciting, took the offer. Jane comes to Africa to write about the horrors that are occurring in Uganda. Immediately through Minot’s vivid imagery, the reader is taken to a different part of Africa, even though atrocities are occurring only a few hours away. Jane meets Harry. Harry is an incalculably confident twenty-two year old. Jane is fifteen years older than Harry and falls for him instantaneously and quickly becomes inseparable from his side.
Minot does a brilliant job in developing the characters of Esther and Jane. I even might go as far to say that they are on the same spectrum. Esther, who starts the story, is broken and a part of her has been taken away or murdered. She seems to vastly differ from Jane. Yet as the story progresses, we see a change: the roles of Esther and Jane reverse. Jane becomes the one who has to deal with an incredible tragedy and a piece of her dies along with her hopes and dreams. Esther, on the other hand, begins to heal and truly understand what it is to live.
We find hope in Minot’s newest novel. Hope that we, as readers, need to be reminded of every now and then in our busy lives. We can rebuild from tragedy, and we can arise stronger like Esther Akello.
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