PERSONAL ESSAY

Hamilton Marks, Jr.
Creative Nonfiction
Prof. Chandler

The Story of a Child
There are so many ways to embark upon this composition which details a fascinating journey of discovery, understanding, jubilations and tribulations. Yet one soothes the purpose of ideas with which to be gathered and jotted as a personal essay on the life and experiences of Hamilton Marks, Jr. I consider this a literary experience of great magnitude, yet peculiar; for I am not one to reveal what is the content of my life. However, as a class project, I am compelled to such revelation. It has been said that “everything has an end and a beginning”. Thus, it is time that people begin to understand the mystery and depths of who I am.

The early1600’s introduced the world to slavery, and African became the focus, a place where African slaves were captured and taken to strange lands, lands of the white men. The white men introduced themselves to the Africans as traders, trading cloths, salt… for pepper, ivory, gold and so forth. Soon, African became the items of trade. By the late 1600’s, slavery was widespread like forest fire throughout the world. The deplorable conditions that African slaves endured led to the abolition of the slave trade. Slavery was abolished soon after; sending the first group of slaves to what initially was a home, a strange land. This strange land was none other than what is now known as Liberia; a country located on the west coast of Africa. After the effects of the slave trade, Liberia fought to gain her independence, which became possible in 1847 under American colonialism.

Liberia is a country that was built upon Christian principles. It is a country of great culture and traditions, the very thing that forge the nation’s people, government and society. Liberia is considered one of the richest nations in Africa, possessing many natural resources such as, gold, diamond, rubber, iron ore, oil, timber and so forth. However, she is revile for the very catastrophic civil war the literally destroyed the country. How sad considering the fact that she at one point in time one of the best nations in Africa, being host delegates and dignitaries form all around the world.

I was born to the union of two natives of Liberia, Hamilton Marks, Sr., and Irene Marks on June 10, 1987. My entrance into the world would be follow by what was known as the “exposition” o major conflicts that Liberia was soon encounter. I was born in the city of Monrovia, and soon moved to a province called Gardnerville. I remembered mommy telling me stories about her village before the war. I particularly remembered the story about mommy growing up in the village. She said, “When I was a child, I lived in the village with my family, and before a girl became of age, every night all the girls would gather around the fire for stories and advices from the elders. At age thirteen, the stories stopped, and all the girls of that age was taken to the society-bush (cultural induction and initiation for girls to become women). A week after you come out of the society-bush, you are a woman, and the town comes out to meet you bearing gifts, and praises” she would end by saying, “those were the good old days now ruined.”
Growing up as a child in Liberia was a very traumatic experience. I grew up a very sickly child, who almost got lost to the battle of malaria, malnutrition, and the absence of a father. Father was a major individual in the government, and at the time of the war, he was being sought by rebels and those who were currently in charge of the country. Hence, he was in hiding throughout the country until he received refuge to the United States of America. At this time we were trying to pull the family together while the war had just escalated.

During 1990, the war took center stage, and like the rest of the country, we fled to an area where things were a bit stable. I still remember the intense fear that I felt, waking up and going to sleep with the sounds of gunshots, bombs and grenades. What a feeling for a child who was barely a teenager. For the only strength I had was the strength that dwelled in my mother, which she showed me by being in control as both a mother and a father. She indeed was the best. For I also remember, in 1992 I lost my brother to malnutrition and typhoid fever. The family was a mourning and disarray except mommy. I immediately stopped crying after I saw how calm she was. We were all sitting together, and from child to child she went comforting the nine (9) of us. That is a memory that cannot be eradicated.

1994-1195 was a bit in Liberia. Immediately mommy registered us in school. She truly valued our education and wanted to see us succeed. My first day back in school felt like a day in a child hospital; a hospital for kids of critical conditions. Yet, we all gathered under the same roof to not let the war exterminate our dreams of obtaining an education. Just two years in school, starting with the fourth grade, I excelled to grade eighth; obtaining or achieving what was term as a “double promotion.” This implies that if one seems to be too smart for one grade level, one will be promoted to the next grade during the middle of the year, and at the end of the year received another promotion.

I watched the war destroy my life and my family, from a family of twelve to a family of six, which later became a family of seven upon the return of my father. Soon after he returned, he filed and received political asylum to the Unites States of America. After he came to America, he quickly settled, and after three years he sent for the rest of the family. We stayed in Irvington with my uncle where we were compelled to endure deplorable living conditions. Through a Divine power my family was able to sustain themselves. As time went by, we move to Newark, where we currently stay.

This personal essay has enabled me to always remember who I am, where I came from, and where I am now. Moreover, it shines light on how the actions of people can sometimes to dangerous and might put others at risk. By writing this essay I was at least able to put out aspects of my life that I failed to disclose. However, I am please now that I have done so. This is the life of Hamilton Marks, Jr.