With our free press under threat and federal funding for public media gone, your support matters more than ever. Help keep the LAist newsroom strong, become a monthly member or increase your support today.
'Ancestor Stones:' Life and War in Sierra Leone
Listen
0:00
Listen
Aminatta Forna was just 11 when her father was hanged for treason in Sierra Leone. His real crime was being a popular leader of the opposition in a country sinking under one-man rule and headed for civil war.
Forna fled with her family to Britain, and from there she gazed back until she could return, as an adult, to write a memoir, The Devil That Danced on the Water. Her next book was a novel, Ancestor Stones, which tells the story of an unnamed country in West Africa, as seen through the lives of four sisters and spanning eight decades.
"The book is set in Sierra Leone," Forna tells Renee Montagne as part of a weeklong series of conversations on war and literature. "I chose not to name it when I wrote the novel because I simply wanted people to enter the stories and not overlay upon them what they thought they knew about Sierra Leone" — that is, a war-torn country of summary executions, amputees and child soldiers.
Forna, who spent a year in Sierra Leone researching Ancestor Stones, found that women have a distinctly different perspective of war.
Sponsored message
"I spoke to a lot of women about their experiences of war .... The experience of war is different for women. Every woman in that country lived under the constant threat of rape and sexual assault. In my family's village, on a single day when the rebels invaded, every single woman was raped and some of them were taken away."
When men talked about the civil war, "it was very much about what they did and where they were. 'This area was taken over and then I went here.' Whereas the women talked much more about the emotional truths of war — what was really happening as opposed to what was simply happening in newsreel terms."
One scene vividly captures the desperate reality of war. It takes place in a camp where refugees have been waiting a long time for a shipment of food to arrive. But when the crates are opened, it becomes apparent that there has been a mix-up.
The boxes were full of lipsticks, hundreds of them, in their gold coloured cases. The men in blue helmets immediately surrounded the vehicle and prepared for a riot. All of us had such hunger in our bellies. But a moment later they pushed back their helmets and lowered their sunglasses, to make sure what they were seeing was really true. The women rushed forward, myself among them, to snatch up these shining lipsticks. The many miles between us and our lost homes, our rotting feet, the grass and leaves with which we had tried to line our stomachs, the emptiness of the future: for a short while all was forgotten. We stood in the sun, laughing and ribbing each other, painting our mouths in vivid colours.
"War does reduce people to terrible circumstances, and it's that attempt to hold on to moments of pleasure, moments of joy in these tiny things ...." Forna says.
Copyright 2023 NPR. To see more, visit https://www.npr.org. 9(MDA1OTI3MjQ5MDEyODUwMTE2MzM1YzNmZA004))
At LAist, we believe in journalism without censorship and the right of a free press to speak truth to those in power. Our hard-hitting watchdog reporting on local government, climate, and the ongoing housing and homelessness crisis is trustworthy, independent and freely accessible to everyone thanks to the support of readers like you.
But the game has changed: Congress voted to eliminate funding for public media across the country. Here at LAist that means a loss of $1.7 million in our budget every year. We want to assure you that despite growing threats to free press and free speech, LAist will remain a voice you know and trust. Speaking frankly, the amount of reader support we receive will help determine how strong of a newsroom we are going forward to cover the important news in our community.
We’re asking you to stand up for independent reporting that will not be silenced. With more individuals like you supporting this public service, we can continue to provide essential coverage for Southern Californians that you can’t find anywhere else. Become a monthly member today to help sustain this mission.
Thank you for your generous support and belief in the value of independent news.
But the game has changed: Congress voted to eliminate funding for public media across the country. Here at LAist that means a loss of $1.7 million in our budget every year. We want to assure you that despite growing threats to free press and free speech, LAist will remain a voice you know and trust. Speaking frankly, the amount of reader support we receive will help determine how strong of a newsroom we are going forward to cover the important news in our community.
We’re asking you to stand up for independent reporting that will not be silenced. With more individuals like you supporting this public service, we can continue to provide essential coverage for Southern Californians that you can’t find anywhere else. Become a monthly member today to help sustain this mission.
Thank you for your generous support and belief in the value of independent news.
Senior Vice President News, Editor in Chief
