By Amanda Frazier

I woke up my usual American self in North Africa today. I started my third day of working with the Centre of Hope, where my husband and I met the leaders and children that make up this ministry.

I was greeted at the centre with excitement and curiosity. I learned every child's name and the teachers there helped me translate my personal story. I was talking, but I had no satisfaction in what I was saying. I didn't want to talk about me. I wanted to know more about the glowing faces looking back at me. I wanted to know more about what it means to be one of the Sudanese Nuba people. 

The Nuba Mountains in Sudan is not just a place on a map; for many displaced men, women, and children, it is home, and it is being destroyed. Their government has turned their backs on the people of the Nuba Mountains.

They told us that even though their country is being torn up by civil war, the government is denying Nuba people aid like water, food, and medicine. On top of that, Sudan is experiencing one of the worst droughts they have had in years. Other countries have turned a blind eye and this civil war has yet to see a headline on a Western newspaper. The genocide on the Nuba people has been happening for the past 6 years and over 4,000 bombs have been dropped on innocent civilians. This leaves them huddled in caves or holes in the ground to protect themselves from the daily bombings.

As I was surrounded by these children, I could see that the Nuba Sudanese are beautiful people who are rich in culture. They are a vibrant community.

I sat and watched these children today at the Centre of Hope and I forced myself not to cry in front of them.

I just kept saying to myself that in no way, shape or form should a child fear for their life as they huddle together in caves and watch their village be destroyed and their loved ones die.

I admit I watched a video not too long ago and I remember saying to myself, "Thank God that is not my child." At the time I didn't see a problem with that mentality. Today, i changed my mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for my security as an American citizen, but when do I stop that "thank God that's not us" mentality and start being active and serve the justice that is due? This weighs on me so heavily, especially after seeing the people I have been learning about while sitting at home 6,000 miles away.

I started questioning myself and saying "Why didn't I do this sooner? I could have done so much more." But I'm here now. My husband is here now. Anything that has kept us away from being here was gone and completely removed today.

So with that being said, I challenge you, as I challenged myself, to break the stereotypes of North Africa and come to help restore hope. There are many children here that are in need, that need to feel like they are home. You can offer them that hope. Put your doubts aside about traveling here and come and spend time with these kids. If traveling is not a possibility, you can sponsor a child.  A child that I have seen and I have seen their need.  This is real. This is your chance to be the hands and feet of Jesus to a Nuba child in need.