Hardcover: 224 pages Publisher: David Fickling Books (7 July 2011) Genre: Young Adult Source: PublisherRating:
Note; It's quite long and I add some pretty personal thoughts in the review.
My Thoughts - In the Sea there are Crocodiles tells the true story of ten year old Enaiatollah Akbari who is one day taken from the comfort of his home by his mother and abandoned just a few days later. He has no idea as they lie that night and suddenly urges him to make three promises that when he turns around the next morning to be seek the kind of comfort only a child can feel from its mother that she will no longer be there; she has gone. What follows from then on is an incredible journey filled with; sorrow, despair, and a great will for survival.
I don't know how a ten year old boy is left alone and is able to make it out alive - especially when there is a civil war brewing. Fellow Muslims killing one another without reason. I don't know much about the Taliban, and maybe that is me being ignorant. Maybe I should know more about these people that I have heard are killing in the very place my cousins live, the very place Enaiatollah lived at some point in his life. But I choose not to, there's too much hate in the world for me to add to it. I would rather not know the gory details. There are some things that are clear in the book through our narratives voice. His mother has a reason for what she does, and although at first I felt very angry towards her I realised she did what she did out of love. Had she not he might have led a very different life. It was the only thing she could do. I suppose sometimes the only way to save your child is to be selfish and selfless at the same time. Sometimes we go to unimaginable lengths to survive and sometimes to protect another. His mother knew what she had to do even though it must have killed her inside to do so. Letting your child go on order to give them the chance of survival must be a heavy decision for any parent to make, a decision that no mother should have to make.
His mother takes him to Quetta Quetta Pakistan
I am a Sunni and to lay it bare with honesty; I hold no grudge or stereotype amongst no other. I was brought up to hate no other Muslim, to hate no other religion or people. Sure I was aware that Sunni’s and Shia didn't get along but I think my parents probably sheltered us and refrained from getting into detail. I’m thankful that I wasn’t brainwashed into thinking a certain way of a particular type of people. There are enough already in the world that form baseless and unnecessary stereotypes against others and discriminate, against us, against others as it is. Since we are on the topic let me just say that I was made aware at an early age that I would face racism; that I would have to bear anger from others for no reason at all apart from the fact that they were purely racist. Others that would judge and blame me because of what other so called Muslims had done even though their actions were not related to how I was as a person at all.
I was taught to walk away from it, to not take it to heart. Before you make assumptions I have to admit that it was for the best. I have faced racism and with the current on - goings and stereotyping due to the news, media and upbringing people have come to form ridiculous opinions and their actions and hesitance towards us only grows. I have become so used to it in fact that I can spot a racist as soon as they pass me. That may sound ridiculous to you but I'm sure Enaiatollah would agree how walking past a certain Sunni or Taliban would lead him into defence mode as soon as they give him a certain look. Like him I have noticed countless times the smile instantly drop when it is my turn to be served. I notice that my expression instinctively hardens as does theirs, I emotionally shut off, but I don't complain, I don't let the hurt show, just pay the money and get the hell out of there. This is an area with many Muslims. Where people from other religions including Christians are quite familiar with our religion and customs. So, I don't even want to imagine how those who are not really aware of what our religion entails are like. And to put it plainly discrimination against us and our religion will continue. I am aware that I will continue to face it in the future. I have been prepared for it though and unless children and parents are educated into thinking otherwise they will continue to act this way, and meanwhile I will continue to walk away and try not to judge too harshly, and convince myself in fear of turning bitter that they know no better, that’s what I tell myself anyway.
There was a moment in the book that touched me greatly. Enaiatollah's fondness and respect for his school teacher is greatly immense. He is a kind man, a man that is a rarity and appreciated amongst his pupils. It was devastating what happened to him, I didn’t expect the huge emotional reaction that poured out of me regarding that man. I felt so angry, so shattered that right then I wanted to scream and vent and ask why? Why are you doing this? I had to pull myself together though because with that bit of the story our narrator had something else to add. He stopped for a moment and made it clear that Afghans and the Taliban are different. That, that day there were many nationalities that were a part of the Taliban. Not just Afghans; many assumption have been formed over the years, so I hope after reading this yours is now lifted.
Let me add my bit to this. In our religion it’s forbidden to kill, nor are you allowed to commit suicide under any circumstance. In fact committing suicide and killing another is of course one of the greatest sins you can commit, it guarantees you a straight ticket to hell. So, sure, make your excuse and reassure yourself you are doing it for Allah (God) but you are not and convincing yourself otherwise I’m afraid doesn’t get you a get by free pass.
Let's just say that Sunni's are not very fond of Shia and vice versa, it goes way back when to our prophet and religion. The two schools of thought may have always had their differences and although both have mistreated the other in the past -- the Taliban have taken it to a whole other level. It doesn't matter if you're Sunni or Shia they're coming after you anyway. Hazara's unfortunately are their primary targets and have a certain dislike for them as we can see from Enaiatollah POV.
My cousins back in Quetta
His story shows us though that despite all this there are those who are wiling to help and lend a hand. To offer support. Time and hardships have made this boy a grown man early before his time. He has learnt to sleep in the street, to be alone and expect nothing of anyone.
There were some things about the book which I really enjoyed; one in particular being the times a conversation between Fabio the writer and our narrator would strike up. It added something greater to a book; a kind of recognition and a voice. These conversations between the two made me feel a part of their conversation; they made you feel like you were in the company of these two men. I loved those moments because I often felt like he was answering my questions, answering back to me. And although the author may be Fabio there was never any doubt that it was Enaiatollah's voice that I was hearing throughout. Although he spoke a different language to my own there were little references that I would pick up on in the book and I would smile, feel a sort of kinship and think. I know what you’re trying to say, I know what you're saying. And then I had these dorky moments where I would be like. OMG I KNOW what Naan is and the other words he sometimes said. Like how cool! Then there were funny moments in the book which made the harder moments a little easier to deal with. He goes through a lot, but he has people in his life who he cares for, enjoys their company and regards as a friend. He plays sports, and cracks jokes. I just thought you should know that. That there are those good times too.
One can't help but pick up on the coldness in his voice. Don't get me wrong. In a strange way our narrator never once feels bitter, angry or hurt. In fact, taking into account everything he has been though he seems emotionally pretty blocked off which quite disturbed me. I then realised he had a sort of a survivors attitude. Block off all emotion, don't cry when you fall down, don't beg when your time is near, thank the person who picks you back up but don't get attached - walk away. That's what I got of him in a nut shell anyway. The author wanted details a lot of the time, what was your mother like, what did you think of so and so? Our narrator was always very honest and straightforward in his answers. It's the journey that matters, not what I was wearing that day, how someone helped me. All that mater is that they helped and that I was clothed that day. That's it, he would answer. Of course we don't think that way. We need explanations, a back story. But then again we can't imagine going though what he went though. A grown man would be haunted all his life if he ever lived though what this young boy did.
After finishing the book I felt sad and rejoiced at the same time. Although there is some happiness, relief and hope in the ending I can't help but hate how his terrifying ordeal will haunt him for the rest of his life. I thought back to those who are still living in Quetta
In the Sea there are Crocodiles is an extremely touching story of a boy who against all odds, lived and survived to tell his story. It's how the love of a mother kept him strong in the bleakest of times. I feel grateful and honoured to be able to share his story with you all and to have the opportunity to read it. I didn't want it to end, and although the ending was cut short just when I wanted to know more I'll be okay to walk away with the thought that maybe soon I'll be reading more about his future travels and journeys. It's a story that is not to be missed or forgotten.
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