presentation

Story 1
The first story occurred during 1990 when the war was heated. There was no food, shelter and clothes. So people decided to escape the harsh parts of the country to a place where the war was less in intense. The streets were filled with people seeking refuge, and further ahead were the rebel. Traveling along with my mother and some of my siblings, we encounter a situation that I can never forget. This situation was the dispute between two teenage soldiers, barely the age of 16 and a pregnant woman. My family and I arrived at the rebel’s checkpoint and were detained while others were being killed. Along came a pregnant woman with no family, but the prospect of have a child whom she can call family. At the checkpoint she was asked to stop and put down all that she had. She did without being hesitant, thinking that her life would be spared. Looking at her condition (pregnancy) the rebels began to argue about the sex of the child. The first said, “This woman child is a boy, I can fell it.” The second said, “How do you know the child is a boy? You crazy man! That’s a girl!” With no way of knowing, they decided to cut open the woman stomach to find out the sex of the child. At while this was going on my mother had her hands over my eyes, but I could still see what was going on. After they opened the woman’s stomach with their knives, they started laughing and one screamed out loud, “it’s a boy, it’s a boy. I told man. It’s a boy.” Many people suffer immensely, however, through God’s grace we were set free and embarked on our journey for a safer place. One could never stay at a place for a long time, because of the many killings and bombing. So we constantly found ourselves moving from place to place.
This story is an illustration of how violence and the unconcern for human life can lead us to destroy one another.

Story #2
A while after the first incident, we encounter another. This time it was more personal. This incident involved the lives of my both my mother and I. During this incident, we had lost some of the member of our family; some to starvation, sicknesses, and bullet. I was one of the fortunate of my siblings who to this date still feel unfortunate. We were still in search of a safer place while looking for my father and family member who got lost in the midst of the huge crowd of dying Liberians. I was sick, and had no strength left in me to continue living, but my mother for me and for herself. At another checkpoint we were asked to stop. They took all our possessions and separated the males from the females. Standing in the line full of men, I was pull out and was about to be kill. Immediately my mother ran out of her line screaming and crying, “Kill me, but please don’t kill my son” She got on her knees begging with tears in her eyes for a son who was so sick that his condition could be render fatal. After begging and crying, the rebels suddenly decided to let my family and I go, saying “the way he looks, he’s gonna die pretty soon anyway.” I left that checkpoint realizing that no love is stronger than the love a mother has for her child. Had it not being for the bravery of my mother, I would have been dead. Through God she was able to obtain such bravery and plead for my life.
Story #3
The last story that I’m going to tell is about how the power of arm can make a man do anything. During the events of the last story I was about 15 years old. My health was better and we had reconnected with some of the other members of our family. We were in the interior or village when the events of the last story occurred. This story is about a pastor and his wife who were our neighbors. On this day they decided to go to the city to look for food, carrying their Bibles in their hands. While traveling, they encountered the rebels. They were stopped and asked questions. The rebels ask the pastor, “Are you a man of God”; the pastor said “Yes.” The rebel said, “If you really are a man of God you will kick your Bible. If you don’t we will kill you.” The pastor kicked the Bible with even thinking twice, and then he was asked to stand aside. Afterwards, the rebels asked the lady to kick the Bible and she said no. She said, No I’m not going to do it. If you want to kill me then go ahead, but God will safe me.” After she spoke, she was asked to leave and her husband was killed after she turned her back. She stormed into the village crying and screaming out the news about the death of her husband.


THE KEAN REVIEW seeks writing of every sort. Especially welcome are essays on public issues, cultural concerns, science, technology, and the theory and practice of design. Prose to 5,000 words; poetry and graphic stories or essays to 10 pages. PDF file to tkr@kean.edu or paper to the Kean Review, Kean University, Union, NJ 07083.


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journalistic piece

Hamilton Marks, Jr.
English 3017 Section 01
Professor: Sally Chandler
March 19, 2007


T.E.A.M
By: Notlimah Skram

The story about to be told is one that exemplifies passion, courage, bravery, skills, teamwork, and motivation in regards to athleticism. This is a story that centers on the spectacle and adrenaline of playing soccer through the eyes of the athletes and the fans.

Today is Friday, March 16, 2007, the day of the tournament or the wage. There are three teams participating in this tournament. They are, The African Team, The Haitian Team, and The Hispanic Team. Each team consists of five players, no substitutes. The purpose of this tournament or wage can be traced to four weeks ago.



It all started when an individual named Hamilton Marks, Jr., a fan of soccer and an excellent player, as he so clearly demonstrated his extraordinary skills during the tournament, sought to organize an event in the Hardwood Arena at Kean University, which would allow him and his friends to get together and play soccer. As he stated “I’m a fan of soccer, and I’ve been playing since I was a boy. I believe I’m very skilled in the game, and I will love to play for Kean University. However, I have a job, and a busy school schedule which will not permit me to do so. I knew my friends love soccer as well, and we all I usually free on Friday. Thus, I decided to plan a scrimmage for Friday, which was the first time that we all assembled to play. Initially, it was suppose to be a one time deal. However, the response I received from my friends was so enticing that I decided to make it a weekly event. Soon, the news of our Friday rendezvous began to spread, inviting both the Haitians and Hispanic, I was shocked as to how many people I saw on the second Friday. The practice was fantastic. There were many people and more teams. There were team consisting of few Haitians and Hispanic, a team of few Africans and Hispanic, and a team of few African and Haitians, and a team of African, Haitian and Hispanic. We

all played together on the same team, working together as one, ignoring cultural differences ego, and over-powerment. That is how a team should be.

However, I witnessed something that shocked me! On the third Friday, we the Africans came in early as usually, and were the first on the field. We decided to play around with the ball in preparation for our usual scrimmage while waiting for the rest of the gang. Soon after the Haitian arrived and bundle up together, sitting and washing us play. The Hispanic also arrived, but with a ball and started playing around amongst themselves. When the practice started, I came to see a team of Africans playing against a team of Hispanic, and later a team of Haitian playing against a team of African, and a team of Hispanic playing against team of Haitian. For me it was very awkward. However, we dwelt with it and decided to play. After the scrimmage was over, suddenly, out of nowhere a Haitian said we should play for money to know who the best is. The African second the opinion, and the Hispanic went along with it. This was how the tournament of $250 started.”


There is a struggle of power in almost everything we do. That struggle exists between men and women, boys and girls, blacks and whites, Protestant and Catholic, heterosexual and homosexual or lesbians. Today we bare witness to a power struggle in sport (i.e. on the soccer field). However improper this statement is, we are here to put one group of people over the other as the players themselves phrased it.

The first teams called to action were the African and the Hispanic. REFEREE- “Gentlemen! The rules are simple. A team of five against another with five minutes to play. You loose a game and you’re out. I will pay attention to fouls, so play fair and play well. Let’s play!” The Hispanic with an excellent first touch. Three minutes after and no goal. The brink of the fifth minute saw a goal from Hamilton Marks, Jr., a member of the African Squad, against the Hispanic. When the time elapsed, the Hispanics were out of the tournament or wage, leaving the African a Haitian to battle. Again the referee is called to action. “Gentlemen! The rules are simple. A team of five against another with five minutes to play. You loose a game and you’re out. I will pay attention to fouls, so play fair and play well.

Let’s play!” The Haitian with a captivating first touch and game strategy. Their strategy was to work as a team, which was what the African were doing; however, play with excessive force inorder to score. Eventually, their excessive force overpowered their idea of teamwork, causing Hamilton Marks, Jr. to score his second goal in the tournament and his first on the Haitians. The Haitian lost two-zero, second goal scored by The African Captain, Michael Enwere.

The tournament is over and the Africans earned the bragging rights and the cash price of two hundred and fifty dollars. When interviewing Captain Michael Enwere about the outcome of the tournament, Mr. Enwere said, “It was a great tournament. We knew what was at stick and we tried to keep that in mind as we played. We also applied hard work and an acronym called T.E.A.M, meaning, together every achieve more to our strategy. If you can learn to work together, with skills and passion for what you do, you are untouchable. You’ve heard it folks! Those were the inspiring words from the African Captain Michael Enwere. Now we’ll hear with the man of the day Hamilton Marks, Jr.


Hamilton, do you have something to say to the folks and your fans out there?

“Well I’m glad this is over. It was awkward that we had to separate ourselves and compete when we could’ve just played ball. Maybe we needed it or maybe we didn’t, and that’s something we will find out as time goes by. Nevertheless, soccer is a universal language. It is a sport played in every part of the world uniting people of all kind. Soccer brought us here together as one, and soccer will keep us here as one. Thank you.”

There you have it folks, words from the man of the day, Hamilton Marks, Jr.

The tournament at Hardwood Arena was a success. It introduced us to three power ethnic teams who demonstrated their way of playing soccer. It was a fascinating experience to see athletes battle it out because of what they love. However, when you stop playing for what you love to play for what you can get, you are no longer playing for the right reasons.





Most cases of athletes getting in trouble sometimes have something to with this. They stop playing with passion, and motivation to playing with ego and only for profit and fame.

The tournament at the Hardwood Arena taught us that we should play because we love playing not because we are trying to prove a point. Moreover, separation creates

awkward feelings amongst people even friends. This is Notlimah Skram reporting. Channel 71 News.

blog 5

my personal essay is about a story of a child, particularly me, living in Liberia during the war. the audience of my personal essay are people who do not know about the war in Liberia. Therefore, i seek to have my audience informed about the civil war and its effect. in the personal essay, i started with my peacful the nation once was before introducing the war. by doing that the audience can know liberia chronologically depending on how far i before the war i decided to go and how far after the war did i stopped.

pre-writing for memoir

i beginning writing my memoir with a keen sense of awareness of the struggle i endured living in Liberia. Within the memoir are three stories that supports the central idea that my memoir seeks to portray. the central idea or ideas are how greed, violence, the lack of education, and no love for your fellow man can destroy a person. However, knowing that we are all humans, and we should learn to love one another can save lives. the three stories are as follows:

story 1
The first story occurred during 1990 when the war was heated. There was no food, shelter and clothes. So people decided to escape the harsh parts of the country to a place where the war was less in intense. The streets were filled with people seeking refuge, and further ahead were the rebel. Traveling along with my mother and some of my siblings, we encounter a situation that I can never forget. This situation was the dispute between two teenage soldiers, barely the age of 16 and a pregnant woman. My family and I arrived at the rebel’s checkpoint and were detained while others were being killed. Along came a pregnant woman with no family, but the prospect of have a child whom she can call family. At the checkpoint she was asked to stop and put down all that she had. She did without being hesitant, thinking that her life would be spared. Looking at her condition (pregnancy) the rebels began to argue about the sex of the child. The first said, “This woman child is a boy, I can fell it.” The second said, “How do you know the child is a boy? You crazy man! That’s a girl!” With no way of knowing, they decided to cut open the woman stomach to find out the sex of the child. At while this was going on my mother had her hands over my eyes, but I could still see what was going on. After they opened the woman’s stomach with their knives, they started laughing and one screamed out loud, “it’s a boy, it’s a boy. I told man. It’s a boy.” Many people suffer immensely, however, through God’s grace we were set free and embarked on our journey for a safer place. One could never stay at a place for a long time, because of the many killings and bombing. So we constantly found ourselves moving from place to place.
This story is an illustration of how violence and the unconcern for human life can lead us to destroy one another.

story 2
A while after the first incident, we encounter another. This time it was more personal. This incident involved the lives of my both my mother and I. During this incident, we had lost some of the member of our family; some to starvation, sicknesses, and bullet. I was one of the fortunate of my siblings who to this date still feel unfortunate. We were still in search of a safer place while looking for my father and family member who got lost in the midst of the huge crowd of dying Liberians. I was sick, and had no strength left in me to continue living, but my mother for me and for herself. At another checkpoint we were asked to stop. They took all our possessions and separated the males from the females. Standing in the line full of men, I was pull out and was about to be kill. Immediately my mother ran out of her line screaming and crying, “Kill me, but please don’t kill my son” She got on her knees begging with tears in her eyes for a son who was so sick that his condition could be render fatal. After begging and crying, the rebels suddenly decided to let my family and I go, saying “the way he looks, he’s gonna die pretty soon anyway.” I left that checkpoint realizing that no love is stronger than the love a mother has for her child. Had it not being for the bravery of my mother, I would have been dead. Through God she was able to obtain such bravery and plead for my life.

story 3
The last story that I’m going to tell is about how the power of arm can make a man do anything. During the events of the last story I was about 15 years old. My health was better and we had reconnected with some of the other members of our family. We were in the interior or village when the events of the last story occurred. This story is about a pastor and his wife who were our neighbors. On this day they decided to go to the city to look for food, carrying their Bibles in their hands. While traveling, they encountered the rebels. They were stopped and asked questions. The rebels ask the pastor, “Are you a man of God”; the pastor said “Yes.” The rebel said, “If you really are a man of God you will kick your Bible. If you don’t we will kill you.” The pastor kicked the Bible with even thinking twice, and then he was asked to stand aside. Afterwards, the rebels asked the lady to kick the Bible and she said no. She said, No I’m not going to do it. If you want to kill me then go ahead, but God will safe me.” After she spoke, she was asked to leave and her husband was killed after she turned her back. She stormed into the village crying and screaming out the news about the death of her husband.

with these stories inserted into the memoir, it gives the reader an understanding of life in Liberia during the war.

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.