A: Smelling like Campfire

The rebels killed his brothers. Raped his sisters. Maimed his father.

And yet, when Mahamed talked about his native Sierra Leone, he smiled.

The rebels, he said, were forced to fight. He forgave them. He knows that they don't represent his country.

I met Mahamed while covering a party celebrating Sierra Leone's independence in Lincoln, Nebraska, where I work for the Lincoln Journal Star.

Most of the people attending the party had come to Lincoln as refugees of the decades-long war. I was supposed to find a unique angle on the event, preferably one that looked at the obstacles the partygoers hadfaced before they came to Lincoln.

But they didn't want to talk about that. Will wanted to talk about the hospitality in Sierra Leone. The people there are some of the nicest in the world, he said.

Another wanted to talk about the food. So good. Similar to Ethiopian, but not quite.

And another wanted to talk about the beaches. So beautiful. More tourists should go there.

They had stories of hardship, too. They lived in refugee camps then were displaced to another continent. If asked, they will talk about it. But those events don't define them, Will said.

While I was interviewing I thought about the work of AFRCN APPRL. Sure, AFRCN APPRL spreads awareness of the atrocities that have occurred in Africa. But it also spreads awareness about the other facets of Africa, too.

Will described the love of Africa as similar to the smoke of the a campfire. Once it has penetrated, you can't get it out.

That love has stayed with the Sierra Leone refugees, despite their obstacles.

That love has stayed with AFRCN APPRL, too.

This is a guest post by Paige Cornwell.  Thanks Paige!