The
Translator
, by Daoud Hari (Read by Mirron Willis)
Millions of Americans learn about the genocide
in Darfur from newspapers and network news shows and
react with varying degrees of concern, but Dauod Hari's
mesmerizing account of the atrocities occurring in his
country is a surefire apathy buster. Born to Zaghawa
parents in an isolated village in the Darfur region
of Sudan, Dauod's pastoral existence is altered forever
when his village is attacked by enemy helicopters and
militia. A gifted linguist, the young boy offers to
act as translator and guide for the assorted reporters,
journalists and international aid personnel who eventually
arrive. His assignments take him behind enemy lines,
and he repeatedly escapes imprisonment and death. However,
he eventually finds himself in a foreign jail, awaiting
deportation and certain execution. A kindly jailer and
a 100-pound note found in a secret pocket provide the
means to get him back to his homeland, where his most
dangerous adventures await.
The Translator is the very modest autobiography
of a very courageous man who is trying to educate the
world about the atrocities and suffering that continue
to plague the people of Darfur. The displacement of
hundreds of thousands of citizens, the starvation of
entire villages, the murder of the men and the rape
and murder of so many of the women and children are
realities that Dauod and his countrymen have come to
accept as routine. As horrific as these things are,
though, he has not lost his sense of humor and his appreciation
for the kindness of strangers. His account is very informative
with his loving explanation of how the beasts of burden,
donkeys and camels, fulfill their roles in desert survival.
As he talks about his village and his relatives, he
teaches the listener about the structure and values
of Sudanese families and tribes. His observations about
his foreign friends and employers are very insightful.
He remarks, for example, that he'd rather guide journalists
than NGO representatives because journalists are not
so concerned with bureaucratic paperwork, and they always
have plenty of alcohol.
In this age of global responsibility and
global citizenship, Dauod Hari's observations help us
learn how to understand each other. He rationalizes
the torture he endured at the hands of sadistic Sudanese
soldiers by pointing out that news coverage of torture
in Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib "gives crazy men permission
to be crazy." Hari's comments about the nature
of aid provide the kind of information that aid agencies
can learn from. He remarks that the plastic and canvas
shelters provided to the refugees, although well-intended,
are unbearably hot.
Mirron Willis does Dauod Hari justice as
his voice. His accented English is understandable, but
the listener is required to stay engaged in the narration
process in order to determine the intended meanings
of some of the words. This is very effective, and makes
The Translator an even more intensely personal account.
Although Daoud Hari doesn't shrink from describing the
horrors he and his countrymen have seen and endured,
this is an uplifting and hopeful book and should be
required reading for everyone, everywhere.
Ruth
Mormon
10/24/06
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