I heard this story on NPR this morning, about a former child soldier turned novelist, and I was deeply moved by some of the language and imagery I heard.
You can hear the full story, on NPR's website: here.
The poetry that stuck with me was near the end of the story, when Ishmael Beah was describing his native language, Mende, which is a tonal language (meaning that meaning is often derived from tone) and is apparently very image driven. A few examples of beautiful phrases they use are:
A soccer ball might be called a nest of air.
If night falls suddenly they might say the sky rolled over and changed its sides.
Have you ever heard anything so beautiful? Remember, this is a former child soldier speaking.
