The lost girls of Sudan: Finding a place of refuge and strength

By Erin Maguire
CS&T Intern

“War broke out in my village when I was about seven years old. We heard the shooting; our houses were burning, so we ran and ran.”
That’s the way Rebecca Dau recalls fleeing her Sudanese homeland, which is now the site of the worst humanitarian crisis in the world.
Traveling at night to avoid the fighting took the fleeing Sudanese along the same paths as wild animals. Journeying through the jungle, some people were attacked by the beasts, others got lost, and still others succumbed to disease. Water and food were scarce. They traveled quickly, knowing the dangers around them. Some cried, others prayed, and by the mercy of God, a few survived.
September 1983 marked the advent of the second Sudanese civil war. The conflict was sparked when President Jaafar Nimeiri adopted traditional Islamic punishments from Sharia (Islamic Law) into the penal code. However, years of broken cease-fire agreements have prolonged the fighting.
Dau and Mary Ayom, Sudanese refugees, have experienced more trials and have felt more heartache than most people do in a lifetime. Dau, after fleeing from Sudan, made it to Uganda with her cousin, also named Mary, and Uncle Kooch. In 1996, she found her way to Kakuma, the United Nations Refugee Camp in Kenya.
“There, I took care of my younger cousin, Deng, bringing him food and water, which I carried on my head,” Dau said. “Sometimes I could go to school in Kakuma, but not everyday because I had to take care of my younger cousin, who is like a brother. My two older brothers were killed in the war. So were my parents.”
With no time to collect birth certificates or important documents, and room to pack only what she could carry, Ayom, too, escaped the conflict in Sudan. She was hastily picked up by her older cousin, Abraham, and taken to Ethiopia. Ayom lived there with Abraham for four years before the war drove them back to Sudan for four months. Fleeing Sudan a second time, Ayom arrived at the same refugee camp in Kenya as Dau. Ayom stayed there for nine years.
In 1991, Sudan went through a two-year drought and food shortage; many previous donors cut their aid to Sudan because of the country’s human rights abuses and pro-Iraqi stance during the Gulf war. The region was still experiencing the aftermath of the drought and food crisis when Ayom and Dau arrived at Kakuma.
Although it was called a refugee camp, Ayom and Dau found the camp anything but a refuge. Instead of going to school, the girls spent their days gathering food and water for loved ones. Receiving one meal a day was considered a privilege.
“I didn’t like anything about the camp — there was no food, we couldn’t go to school,” Dau said. The only thing I liked was [Episcopal] Sunday school. That’s all.”
Dau and Ayom came to America with the help of Lutheran Children and Family Services in November 2000. They were chosen because they had lost their parents.
“It’s not easy to come here,” Dau said. It is hard, yes, for Sudanese to gain passage for America — but it is also a hard experience to leave all your family behind. I miss them a lot.”
When they arrived in America, both Dau and Ayom needed identification. However, all their documentation was back in Sudan.
“Since we ran from the war in Sudan, I am not sure of my age,” Dau said. “When I came in 2000, the Immigration and Naturalization Service said that I was born in 1983.” Ayom was assigned the same age.
Sharing consoling words from her cousin, Gabriel, Ayom said, “God has a plan for everyone. All things work together for good for those who love God.”
As refugees in a foreign country, without parents and with few of the necessities for survival, Ayom and Dau could have lost their faith. But Ayom said being chosen to come to America was “a gift from God.”
In America, the young Sudanese women have had many “God-parents” — single and married Lutheran adults, the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and the students and staff at Cardinal Dougherty High School in Philadelphia, including Principal Mary Harkins and President Father Paul Dougherty.
Adapting an African proverb, Sister Thea Bowman, who also worked with Dau and Ayom, observed, “It takes a whole Church to raise a child of God.” Dau and Ayom’s attendance at Cardinal Dougherty was made possible with the help of Sister Boreta Singleton of the Archhdiocese’s Office for Black Catholics, Father Tom Betz of the Archdiocese’s Office of Immigrants and Refugees, and Brian Gail of Gailforce Communications, who became a benefactor to the girls by paying their tuition at Cardinal Dougherty.
“I love my school,” Ayom said. Dau said the students accepted her readily; she has especially enjoyed her English and theology classes, where the teachers have been particularly supportive.
Sister Rene Wentzel and Sister Fran Small, both IHMs, have also been helpful to the young women — supporting their education, teaching them how to live independently, and helping them to maintain contact with their African relatives and “to be faithful to the Lord who is faithful to them.”
“Their witness and gratitude for God’s goodness is a deep witness to those present in their lives. They don’t focus on losses, but on the blessings God’s given them,” Sister Fran said. “Many of us focus on what we don’t have or what we want. I am inspired by their absolute, clear appreciation for God’s gifts to them. … Mary and Rebecca are a gift to us whom God has called to be present to them.”
Dau and Ayom have held onto their faith when dark jungle trees towered over them and seemed to drown out the sun; they continued to hope when all seemed lost. Relating Scripture to Dau and Ayom’s experience, Sister Fran quoted Hebrews 11: “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the assurance of things unseen.”
Now officially 21, Ayom and Dau — who are probably younger than their estimated age — have graduated from Cardinal Dougherty High School, and are working two jobs to finance their independence in West Philadelphia.
Claiming one’s independence seems like a great task in itself. Yet, Ayom and Dau are so thankful for what God has given them that they also share their money with relatives in Sudan.
Ayom helps to support her brother, Jacob, in Uganda, and her sister, Theresa, in Kakuma. She finds happiness in talking on the phone with her brother and sister, and she loves to show her brother’s painted pictures of Africa to her friends in America. She does not deny the sadness she feels, though, in knowing that her brother and sister are so far away.
Dau corresponds with her family overseas, too. She sends money to her younger sister, Tabitha, in Kakuma. She was overjoyed to learn that her other sister is still alive in Sudan. She and Tabitha cried on the phone for 15 minutes when they heard the news. They hope to help this sister get to Kakuma. Talking to Tabitha, Dau was so overcome with gratitude and joy that she suddenly exclaimed, “God is good — all the time.”
With the integration of three faiths — Episcopal, Lutheran and Catholic — Dau and Ayom feel surrounded by God’s grace. They recognize all the good in their lives as gifts from God and are thankful for the people who have supported them in their journey.
Both Ayom and Dau were baptized in the Episcopal faith; Ayom still remembers dancing with her father at an Episcopal church as a child. But without the Lutheran Church, neither young woman would have made it to America — and it was the Catholic Church who provided their education and gave them sisterly support.
Sister Fran, considering Dau and Ayom’s story against the backdrop of the international publicity surrounding the children known as the “lost boys of Sudan” — and in response to the mixture of religious denominations that influenced their lives, commented: “Ironically, the telling stories of Mary and Rebecca can only be told inclusively by intertwining God’s provident love for the no longer ‘invisible girls’ or ‘lost boys of Sudan.’
“Indeed a provident, Parent God indiscriminately embraces both girls and boys, women and men — cherished children of the one God who parents us all.”
One set of song lyrics Ayom frequently sings is, “We are one body, one body in Christ, and we do not stand alone.”
Dau and Ayom’s story is one of inspiration. But it is also a story of courage. Where many would have doubted and despaired, they hoped and persevered.
In January, Dau hopes to attend community college. She aspires to become an accountant. As for Ayom, she loves her job caring for the elderly at Holy Redeemer Hospital. She hopes to become a nurse.
“God is good,” she said. “He gives me whatever I need. God cared about me so I didn’t die and I have a good life now.”
“When you believe in God, everything is good for you,” Ayom added. Then she echoed Dau’s words of joy: “God is good — all the time.”

Erin Maguire is the 2003 recipient of The Catholic Standard & Times journalism scholarship. She is a sophomore communications major at DeSales University in Center Valley, Pa.