Twelve years after being rescued from the ranks of the government army of child soldiers in Sierra Leone, 27-year-old Ishmael Beah still has nightmares.

He doesn't know how many persons he killed in the two plus years he spent in the army because he "didn't have time to count", but the images of the bloodletting he caused often invade his mind, and they are never pleasant.

Former child soldier and UNICEF advocate for children affected by war, Ishmael Beah (left), and UNICEF representative in Jamaica, Bertrand Bainvel (centre), interact with the students of Superior Preparatory at the Eastern Peace Centre on Windward Road. (Photo: Lionel Rookwood)

"I used to have a lot more (nightmares) than I do now. I still have some but that, for me, is a small price to pay to be alive," he tells the Sunday Observer. "There are no good feelings. With time I've just learned to function with them. You can't forget. There are bad feelings, restlessness, I don't sleep very well. I have insomnia because of it."

At the height of the civil war in Sierra Leone in the mid-1990s, Beah, who was only 13, was picked up by the government army and forced to become a soldier. He was an ideal candidate, he says, because he had lost his home, both parents and his two siblings.

"Children who were in this position became sort of the preys because they were angry, so they used the anger for us to be part of the group and also because there was no one to claim our lives. Being part of these groups replaced the loss of that family. It's very difficult to live knowing what had happened so being part of these groups replaced that loss. They became the surrogate family. That was very difficult. Even to this day it is very difficult, but I've been able to have another family," he says.

And although the physical loss was painful, it is the emotional void that has been one of Beah's strongest demons. "Not having anyone who can tell stories about you when you growing up as a kid, not having paraphernalia from childhood, that's difficult," he says.

He now represents the United Nations Children's Fund (UNICEF) as an advocate of children affected by war. He was in Jamaica for two days to share his story so as to inspire hope and to encourage Jamaican youth to steer clear of gangs and violence.

Since UNICEF rescued him in 1998 and put him through a programme of rehabilitation, Beah has gone on to acquire a first degree in Politics and is planning to pursue graduate studies. He has also authored a book titled A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier.

He sat down with the Sunday Observer at UNICEF's Jamaican headquarters on Knutsford Boulevard last week to explain why he chose Jamaica for his first country visit.

He says he has always felt a connection with Jamaican culture through the music of King Yellowman, Bob Marley, Chakka Demus and Pliers, as well as through Jamaica's similarities in landscape and geography with his country.

"There's not an all-out civil war here, but there are lots of similarities," he says. "The reason the war started in Sierra Leone in the first place was because of strong poverty. The economy wasn't functioning, we didn't have jobs, there were no opportunities for the youth, so I felt that I wanted people to know that even with those difficulties, that together communities can transform this complex.

"I want to show people that yes, you can get dragged into badness but you can come out of it. What I'm trying to bring to young people here and wherever is to choose a life of non-violence. Violence always brings suffering, distrust in yourself and nothing really progresses in your life.
"If I was in the war, I wouldn't know that I could go to school, that I could write or do other things with my life," says Beah who now lives in New York.

As a soldier, a typical day for the young Beah included raiding communities for food and arms and taking drugs such as cocaine, brown-brown (a mixture of cocaine and gun powder) and marijuana.

"There were no typical days, really, but usually we'd wake up in the morning and we'd go attack other groups because we had guns but no food or no bullets, so we attacked others for food or bullets or to recruit. Then there were exhibitionist killings and watching films like Rambo to keep us in a constant state of fighting," he explains.

"If we weren't fighting, we were cleaning our weapons," he says.
While captive in the army, Beah says he had lots of friends, many of whom were killed. He says, however, that there was no time or provisions made for mourning them.

In spite of the physical and psychological trauma he endured, Beah has recovered and is now seeking to form an association of people like himself who are now making positive contributions to society.

"There aren't enough stories being told about how people get out and succeed," he laments. "We hear a lot about the war and all the bad it does, but not enough about the success stories which show the resilience of the human spirit."

That he now show emotions, he says, is proof of that resilience. "I have a greater appreciation for life, I laugh with my entire being, I have learned to trust others. I have also learned to be self-sufficient and to take initiative."
And although he continues to be haunted by his memories, the UNICEF ambassador is determined not to let them get the better of him.

"They come up, but I have learnt to not let them affect me. I use them to either write or do other things with my time," he says. "I don't let them be a burden."

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