First, I was so heartbroken for Ishmael to lose his family in such violence. After that, for him to have to simply run and hope for the kindness of strangers to help him out was also heartbreaking. He was the same age as my own son is now. When he was taken by the army to be a boy soldier, I was horrified with the violence and drugs. It never ended though. Even when he was taken away from the army to be rehabilitated, it was painful to read! The violence and hate was deep n these boys and thinking they would be removed from the army and go on to a better life was niiave. Inear the end of the book, after being rehabilitated, he finds family again, only to have to run for his life when war breaks out again.
I wonder, as Ishmael did, why do I get to keep living such a good life when others go through so much horror?