The Translator: A Tribesman's Memoir of Darfur

The Translator: A Tribesman's Memoir of Darfur
by Daoud Hari

By reading this powerful story by Daoud Hari, you realize that in Darfur horrible things are taking place and the world is choosing to ignore the events.

What is happening in Sudan can not be real; it can only be a fictional story. How do human beings treat others like this and continue to live with themselves? Sadly, we learn that this is a way of life for many people and that genocide is going on in Sudan as we speak.

Daoud does not take sides but tries to function in a world that is turned upside down. You are draw into a surreal environment of killing and total disregard for the value of human life.

I recommend this book to read as a reminder that we must always be on guard against the selfish, the evil and the greedy.

OK, lets start with the good points first;

Daoud Hari is the sort of man many guys would like to be. Someone who has aspired to self improvement and does what is expected of him as a man of his people. This book is a testament to both his courage and also his selfless behaviour in the face of adversity and as such it will inspire many readers and for that he deserves praise as do the people who got his story out into the wider community.

The book moves in a fast paced style and is told in the first person and relates the story of this mans eyewitness account of the breakdown of law and order and the genocide within the Darfur area of Sudan. It pulls no punches in calmly retelling brutal firefights, deaths and dismemberments and as a father some of it was pretty hard to read. But hey, this guy lived it, so if he can do that then I owe it to him to read it yeah?

Anyone going to be stationed with the UN, international military or other humanitarian agencies in the Darfur region will probably get quite a bit out of this book as it will serve as a primer at a human level.

And now to the downside;

No matter how brave you are, no matter what your intentions, the simple fact is that the way you tell a story can make or break the deal. And certainly as a storyteller that makes the reader feel like he is there Mr Hari is not so successful. But whose fault is that - as the book makes plain these are his stories as told to Dennis Michael Burke and Megan M. McKenna. So to tell the truth I lay the blame on the lack of connectivity firmly on their doorstep. This book should of been a rousing call to something deep inside the reader, instead it reads like a catalogue of events and that dryness means the reader isn't as affected as perhaps they'd hoped.


The overall effect of this book on my was far less than I'd hoped. That is in no way a denigration of the authors like or experiences. Nor any downplaying of the situation in Darfur. It's just that this book falls into the average category as an overall piece of work but still one I'm glad to have read.

I was completely impressed by this book. I even laughed out loud a couple of times! For such a difficult subject, the author does a remarkable job - do yourself a favor and read this book!

The Translator is a very fine piece of writing. But the writing is beside the point. It is an essential book, a rare personal account of a human tragedy of epic proportions that is still unfolding even as I type these words. To read the Translator is to delight, one moment, at the thought of desert games, camel rides, and village life, and to despair, the next, at the unthinkable brutality with which that life has been, is being, and will no doubt continue to be wiped off the face of Sudan. DH's stirring and harrowing memoir concludes with a copy of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Would that the Declaration lived on in more than spirit today. Would that the rights it enshrines truly did apply to all citizens of the world, and that violations against them were met with meaningful response. The Translator is a call to action, one of many that have been issued these last several years, more eloquent than most. Many have heard the call, and cried out in protest. But seriously, who's really doing anything? As we witness yet another Bosnia, Rwanda, Cambodia, ... play out in real time, and count fewer and fewer people left to defend in this pocket of the world, we are failing yet again to be our brother's keeper. We are, for our inaction or our ineffectual action, guilty -- small burden next to the one's our brothers and sisters in Darfur, Congo, and elsewhere are made to bear each day. That genocides can still take place in the 21st century is depressing and terrifying in the extreme. I can only share DH's hope that life will go on and things will get better in Darfur. I doubt it.

I understand the Darfur situation much more after reading Daoud Hari's account of his experiences. No amount of news or analysis from 'experts' could have brought me to the ground level, so to speak, as his book did. Feeling every bead of sweat, every sense of doom, and the suffering and desperation of the villagers. But it was also a story full of wisdom, wit, and ironic humour that moved very briskly and never became maudlin or hateful. That is the true magic of the book. It brought me to tears several times, then it brought me suddenly to laughter, then gently into the world of dreams and ancestors, of friendship, family and love, stretching across the unyielding desert, then the valleys and hills, and acacia trees, and it brought me to the restful village life, the custom of sitting down to tea to replenish the soul, friendly camels and devoted donkeys, and the little child waving. All this would break into episodes of horror and violence and barbarity that are the realities of Darfur. And just when I believe in nothing but human cruelty and despair, he turns the story and teases the imagination with tales of courage, hope, and survival. His dreams are particularly powerful and seductive (that is, when he is able to sleep!) as they awaken the spirits of loved ones recently departed, particularly his brothers, as if to say 'you are bigger than your suffering'. It's clear the politics in Darfur is a tangled web with rebels, and 'turncoat' rebels, and Chadian hospitality and complicity at the same time, and the dominion of evil and good shifting like the sands. The innocents are crushed in this mad conflict. When friends and brothers part and say 'see you again soon', it is a sly reference to heaven. Hari's kind and artful brush that lovingly washes over the territory of Sudan touches also the aid workers and foreign reporters he met. His affection for them is obvious and very endearing, especially for Nicolas Kristof: Nick looked like a man who gets into trouble. So I went with him.

The book is speckled with little gems of wisdom like these:
... You have to be stronger than your fears if you want to get anything done in this life.
... You have to find a way to laugh a little bit each day despite everything, or your heart will simply run out of the joy that makes it go.