The older boys decided to have a meeting. “We must work together if we are to survive,” one of the boys said. “We will form groups and choose a leader for each group.”

“Garang Deng!” someone yelled. My name!

I had been chosen to lead a group of thirty-five boys. I was proud but scared. I knew how to take care of animals, not boys, but I did not want to let my fear keep me from helping my brothers. Then I remembered what my father had told me: Garang, be brave. Your heart and mind are strong. There is nothing you cannot do.

I joined the group of leaders, and we decided we would walk to a country called Ethiopia. Before war came to our villages, many of us had heard our elders talk of Ethiopia. They had said Ethiopians would provide a safe place for Sudanese running from the war.

Some of the older boys knew we must travel east to reach Ethiopia. It was very far and the journey would be dangerous, but it was our only hope.

We decided it was best to walk at night and sleep in the forest during the day to avoid soldiers and the severe heat of the sun. Many argued that it was too dangerous to walk at night because of animals hunting for food. After much talk we agreed that the soldiers and their warplanes were more dangerous than the animals.

We also decided that the older boys would adopt younger boys who couldn’t care for themselves. I chose a little boy in my group named Chuti Bol. He was only five and cried for his mother.

The next evening we found the road to Ethiopia. We were glad to have a full bright moon, but it was still very dark. To make sure we did not lose anyone, each boy held the hand of the boy in front of him.

Chuti was too small to walk long distances. I often carried him on my back. Everyone was tired and hungry, but no one complained.