Whole Again

     During the time since that fateful day when the rebels had so ruthlessly cut off her hands and sent her away to die, Mariatu Kamara has faced great pain and loss. She has faced such overwhelming sorrow, anger, hate, despair, hopelessness, and betrayal, more than any human being should have to endure, let alone a twelve year-old girl. But sadly, this happens all too often, not just in Sierra Leone, but all over the world, every day, to countless children who are forced to spend their days begging on the streets to earn enough money to keep them fed for one more day, whilst wealthier people rarely spare these poor, mutilated children a glance; they just keep on walking. What makes Mariatu different from the other children like her begins with a baby, and continues on through the sheer force of will, and through her determination and the hope that she can and will have a future, and a good life, despite the continual tragedies that befall her.

     Mariatu Kamara proves to be an extremely resilient girl, and continually shows how strong she truly is. Her actions show that, despite her many injuries and hardships, she endures it all in the hope that one day, it will all be better, and she can fall asleep knowing that she and her family are safe and well cared for. On page 151, Mariatu is made aware of the hardships that occur in England, and how they are similar yet different to what people endure in Sierra Leone.

     "'Please, Yabom. This boy is like me back at the amputee camp,' I pleaded.
     Yabom would drop a few coins into the boy's guitar case. I would smile, trying to catch the boy's attention. But he too had learned not to look up.
     'Why are there young people in London who have to beg?' I asked Mariama and David one night over a dinner of rice and lamb. 'I thought this was a rich country, where everyone drove around in Mercedes.'
     'It's true England is better off than Sierra Leone,' David responded. 'But there are still poor people here. There are poor people everywhere in the world. In fact, more people are poor than rich.'"

     Though this comes as a bit of a shock to Mariatu, it's truth is all too plain. Where there are people, there are two groups: Wealthy enough to afford food, clothing, a place to live, etc., and poor enough to have to beg on the streets for money, through the rain and cold and snow, all to earn enough money to survive another day.

     This class distinction is terrible, but it always has been and always will be there. No matter how hard we try to eliminate social classes, to stop social discrimination, there is nothing we can do about it. Sure, people give it fancy names to confuse us and pretend it doesn't exist anymore, but class distinction is all too prominent in our world. And while the wealthy enjoy their many luxuries and wants, taking most, if not all of it, for granted, the poor struggle to fulfill their most simple needs such as food, shelter, and warmth.

     Mariatu Kamara has seen both sides of the spectrum, wealthy and dirt-poor. And as she endured all of the pain, and the sorrow, loss, grief, anger, and despair, as well as moments of joy, moments of hope and love and determination, she has come out of the darkness and into the light. And though she had been mercilessly torn apart, and stitched back up time after time, she has finally become whole again.