The Words Can’t Describe Shofi Alom’s Journey

Woke up early in the morning.

Wrapped some rice and peppers with banana leaves. 

Headed toward the jungle with a machete in my hand and the lunch on my lower back

The mind never thought that this was the last time I would go to the jungle.

 My mind felt a strong sense of the breeze of Malaysia in my soul when I was in a dark jungle.

The brain was hopelessly thinking and staring around the jungle when I would come home.

The thoughts and the feeling of my soul matched. 

The logs and a machete missed the ride on my shoulder.

The core of my heart still remembered that I was frustratingly coming home in fear of attack from predators of the jungle.

My sweat was dripping from head to toe. 

The hot sand of the jungle fulfilled its thirst from my tears. 

Uncountable tiny holes on the bottom of my feet

And the rocks, dirt, and every path that I walked through had satisfied the taste of the golden sugar of my bare feet. 

The beautiful breeze and the predators of the jungle are missing me now. 

The soul finally had time to take a break from the fear of attack by the jungle predators. 

As the sunshine disappeared from my distressed eyes, I saw my broken house from a mile away.

And my brother sprinted toward me like a hungry tiger with devastating news.

Eyes witnessed both of my parents crying desperately in the middle of the dry rice field. 

A decision changed my life. 

The ocean celebrated that it has created two streams in my eyes. 

An orphan boy’s eyes have invented the golden waterfall for Myanmar’s terrible government. 

None of my parents could prevent the tears from my eyes that were falling like a downpour.  

The mouth said a final goodbye to the loved ones, but not the heart. 

The painful journey has commenced.

But the little heart was unprepared for the journey. 

My childhood life ended.

The village was roaring and wailing. 

Both Parents fainted. 

The Downtown of Buthidaung was humbly looking for my smile. 

The human traffickers were giggling. 

The mud of the Maungdaw still kept my footprint.

The creature of the sea is still madly looking for my body.

The human traffickers’ boats have taken away 90% of my breath.

The human traffickers are exhausted from beating my distressed back. 

The stomach would never miss the meal it has consumed. 

The mind would never erase the trauma that it endured. 

And the memory capacity is full of physical and emotional trauma. 

The mud of Thailand still desired to hold my body. 

The creatures and the predators of the Thailand jungle still wanted to hear my voice. 

The unfortunate eyes are exhausted from witnessing the rapes and abuse. 

The stomach threatened the mouth to eat the barks of the random trees. 

The mouth never refused the command of the stomach. 

The starvations had taken control of my life. 

The gunpoint of Thai police had made my nerves numbed. 

The pain of the wrists will never forgive the handcuffs. 

The soulless body recklessly rested in a police station.

The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees was extremely unfortunate to gain one more refugee. 

The News reporters were shocked.

I was everywhere in a virtual world, but nowhere in a physical world, except in hell. 

The luck has shattered into pieces. 

The hope was destroyed. 

The tears have dried. 

The eyes were craving water, and the heart was craving hope. 

The soul and heart wanted to reunite. 

The sun missed the skin of the hopeless body for more than a year. 

The emotional wounds have stained the nucleus of the brain. ​

And yet, the emotional wounds continue to damage every single organism of the lifeless body.

The detention center, orphanage, and jail missed me.

I am everywhere.

But nowhere without my family. 

By: Shofi Alom based on True Journey