Seeking forgiveness in Sierra Leone

The civil war in Sierra Leone has left more than 50,000 people dead

By Sorious Somora for CNN Traveller magazine

FREETOWN, Sierra Leone (CNN) -- It's not every day you get the chance to meet rebel commanders who, together with their troops, would easily qualify as some of the world's most evil men -- men who have burned down villages of innocent people, maimed and brutally killed thousands of unarmed civilians, and raped and gang-raped women, including children and pregnant women.

Let me just back track a bit and get you all on board. On the March 23, 1991, the rebels of the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) declared civil war on my country, Sierra Leone -- a war in which children were more or less the victims as well as the perpetrators.

Over 50,000 people have been killed during this 10-year-long senseless war, and most of the killings were done by children -- children whose rebel army now controls most parts of my country.

"Don't go to Makeni or Magburrka for no one," my father said when he knew of our planned trip to the rebel's headquarters in the north of the country.

But I had a story to tell. I was also desperate to understand what drove these young men to commit these crimes.

Meeting the colonel

SPECIAL REPORT Follow Sorious Samura's Return to Freetown:  • Introduction  • Part 1: Release  • Part 2: Reunion  • Part 3: Beginnings  • Part 4: Memories  • Part 5: Doubts  • Part 6: Hopes    EXTRA INFORMATION Read Samura's account of his meeting with a rebel leader  in CNN Traveller  magazine   IN-DEPTH Samura looks at fellow Africans leaving for a better life in Exodus from Africa    RELATED SITE Sorious Samura's Africa

A peace agreement in my country has brought the fighting to an end, and although we are still divided, it is safer to travel around my country now than it has been for 10 years.

On Friday, July 27, 2001, our crew of five finally made it to rebel territory. A jovial crowd of boys greeted us.

I have heard the name Col. Base Marine before in Freetown, so I was expecting to see a battle-hardened soldier. Instead we were greeted by this shy 23-year-old.

We were offered seats and drinks while explaining our mission to the colonel and his men, whose eyes were fixed on the "Potho" white man, director Ron McCullagh, rather than our fixer, who was talking at the time.

I received nothing worse than the odd uneasy glance, which I must admit now reminded me of my father's warning. But I quickly forgot such fears as this remarkable young man began to tell me his story.

Like many young people in Sierra Leone and indeed throughout Africa, Base Marine was once easy prey for the rebels. When the RUF abducted him 10 years ago, he was an unemployed teenager with no proper schooling. It was too easy for the RUF to convince him that his lack of education and his poor status in society were the fault of the government that the rebels were fighting.

We sat together on the balcony of his headquarters, a house he and his group had commandeered, and as we began to talk the heavy rain came down, drumming on the corrugated roof and splattering on the dusty earth from the broken gutters.

'Revolution was necessary'

Base Marine is nervous. Despite the cool appearance, his clothes and designer sunglasses, he seems eager to tell his version of what happened.

I did not want to like this man. I assume that as a rebel, he and his band of child soldiers have killed mercilessly. Yet as he explains why he joined the rebel cause, I know there is some truth in what he says -- uncomfortable truths for those of us who supported democracy in my country.

Base Marine took off his glasses and, looking away from me, he explained himself.

"One of the reasons why an armed revolution instead of an unarmed one prevailed in this country is that firstly, students had no rights. For example, whenever they demonstrated for democratic rule, what happens next? They will be dispersed by tear-gas canisters, chased away by the police. These students had staged several protest marches, but the result was the death of perhaps five or 10 students.

"This eventually caused students to relent, but they were still dissatisfied. And because they had no way out, an armed revolution was deemed necessary, because that was the only way we could dialogue. ... You could no longer lock me up or send the police with their tear-gas canisters, because if I am armed I can get (the government) to do what I request. This is the cause of the armed revolution. The arms are used to protect the majority in saying the truth against the system."

Placing blame

Much of what he was telling me I could relate to. I too was a young student. I remember when the government announced that "education was no longer a right but a privilege." If you could not afford the school fees, you had to leave your school and find work -- and I protested too.

My government let us all down. The actions of politicians took away the hope of generations of young people, and we all made big choices. Base Marine -- once abducted, brutalised and drugged by the rebels -- made his choice. If I had found myself in his situation, can I ever be sure I would not have done the same?

But it's what happened after he made that choice that concerns me now. Base Marine led a Small Boys Unit (SBU), and these units were responsible for many of the atrocities that have happened in my country. They were kids armed with AK-47s and rocket-propelled grenades who were encouraged to go wild against anyone they came across. And they did. I asked him three times, "Why all the killing of innocents?" Three times he blamed it all on politicians. He refused to confront his own responsibility for what he and his band of child soldiers have done.

'Be my big brother'

As afternoon turned to evening, the rain stopped and we prepared to leave the colonel and his band of followers. The interview was over. Through our meeting, Base Marine had softened and relaxed in my company. As the team packed up the gear into our car, Base Marine asked me to take a walk alone with him.

"I don't want you to go and forget about me. I know we have made mistakes, but I want you to take me as your small brother. I want you to be my big brother," he said.

And my heart went out to him. Where do the thousands of young people who have done such terrible things go from here? Peace offers them nothing. Their leaders may gain wealth and some security, but these young foot soldiers will always be remembered for their viciousness and cruelty. What hope do we have if we cannot offer them a future that will somehow put their past behind them?

As we drove down the potholed road back to Freetown, the capital of Sierra Leone, the clouds moved aside to let the last of the sun's rays pick out the ruined buildings and wrecked vehicles.

"No," I thought, "I cannot be Base Marine's older brother. I can't let myself be part of his guilt."

And yet I also know that we all should ask him, and all the others who got caught up in this evil, to forgive us -- us so-called democrats -- for allowing all that has happened to happen to them.

-- This article originally appeared in CNN Traveller magazine.