To my penpal,

1. Hello, my name is Abebe Tesfaye. I'm in Grade 8 and I go to Mogadishu Secondary. I live in the
Kakuma Refugee Camp in Kenya. A lot of families have lived here for generations, but I am one of the
newer people. The American lady who visited us with the pen pal letters handed me a green paper to
write on which is my least favorite color. I'm sorry that the paper smells like an egg that has been
through the mail. P.S. What is your least favorite color?

2. You asked me how I know English so well. My parents hope that we will move to America some
day, so they made me take English lessons and signed me up for this letter exchange. I like drawing
and painting. I like sports. I am a Manchester United Fan. I had two siblings, but now it is only me
and my sister. Do you have siblings? I am sending two drawings that I like. One is my home in
Ethiopia, and the other is the camp I live in now. The trees in Ethiopia surrounding my house might
have looked like a looming forest to you, but it was not scary because it was my home. The hills were
great slides except when I rolled into thorny bushes on my way down. Now all I see in camp are
people, dust, and gray sheets on wooden poles everywhere, but I'm learning to think of it as home
too. P.S. Is it true that you meet famous people in grocery stores in America?

 

3. The weather here is quite warm. 82 degrees Fahrenheit. How is the weather in California? I imagine
where you live to have burgers and American pizza and bald eagles that sing the national anthem. My
brother was a good singer and the first song he learned to sing was the American National Anthem.
He is gone from Earth now, but I think that he is still up in the sky somewhere. He was shot a couple
months ago. That's why we left Ethiopia to live here. Although it's not as pretty as my home, there are
still people to talk to and things to do, and it is safer here than Ethiopia. But spiders and snakes often
get into the camp because there are no walls here. The mamba snake is the worst because you can die
in seven hours after it bites you if you don't get treatment. P.S. What do you call a bear with no teeth?
A gummy bear! The teacher passed out yummy gummy bears today. I could have eaten more than
one if there weren't 113 other kids in my class. Sometimes, the older kids and I aren't able to hear the
teacher over the giggling and shouting of the ten-year-olds sitting at the front.

 

4. Thank you for the picture of your community pool. It looks very blue and pretty, but I would not
like to swim in it after what you wrote to me. I'm so glad to hear of your amazing dreams. I used to
dream, but I stopped dreaming soon after we moved here. If I could still dream, they would be
nightmares or hardly anything happy. I sometimes miss waking up and shivering in tears and running
to my parents' room in the middle of the night. There are rumors that the camp is closing down soon
and we might have to be moved somewhere else. Maybe this is my first nightmare in a long time. I
don't know where we will go. This camp has been a good home to us, but anyway I hope that this
letter will reach you. P.S. How did you find out about the pen pal exchange? It's been nice writing to
you. I am glad that I might get my dreams back soon even if they are nightmares.

 

5. Your poem about plums in your backyard and how yummy they were made me wish that I was
there to eat them with you. I'm leaving tomorrow for the ocean. Someone will drive us down to Cape
Town where we are hoping to catch a boat, because we can't go back home. The mail man promised
me that he would get this to you, but I don't really believe him because he tells stories that are always
too good to be true. Sometimes I think I see my brother hanging out just outside the camp. He's
always just here or there. When I walk toward him, he turns down another road, and I can't find him
anymore. I like to think that he is watching over everyone. If we leave, I wonder if he will follow us.
The only place he knew as his home was Africa. I won't be mad if he stays. I wish that I could stay
too. There among the trees is the wind of our laughter blowing. There live the faces of my brother as
he hugs the tree trunks like a koala and shouts, "I'm the master of trees!" I am only bringing what I
need, clothes, some food, and your letters. Everything else we will leave behind. We won't keep
anything old when we have to start over anyway. I hope that you are doing well.

 

Your friend,
Abebe T.