Wherever I Go: Carrying Stories Into Our Lives

I read this picture book many times in the past months, maxing out my library renewal. This story inspires and haunts me, so I was waiting until I felt I could do it justice. Now that I have no renewal options left, the time has come to make a stab at sharing my thoughts.

Atheneum Books, 2020

WHEREVER I GO is written by Mary Wagley Copp and illustrated by Munir D. Mohammed. The fictional story is told in the first person voice of Abia, a girl who lives with her family in a fictional, but very authentic, refugee camp in northern Ethiopia. They have been there longer than anyone else, and her father can quote that time in years, months, and days. "Too long," he says.

That makes Abia the QUEEN of the camp, and she proudly wears a handwoven crown that her father made for her. 

As Abia spends day after day, year after year, in the camp, she transforms tedious chores into experiences that strengthen her body and spirit: surveying her realm, pumping and carrying water, tending to her baby cousin, howling at the night animals.

At night, before falling asleep on her straw mat in the small tent they call home, Abia listens to the stories of why they are there. Through minimal and age-appropriate text, readers learn about the fighting and threats that forced them from their forever home, escaping on foot from the human and wild predators who could end their lives. 

When the time finally arrives for them to travel to a new-and-forever home, they leave everything behind for another family who will need their tent and belongings. Abia holds tight to her stories. They remind her that she will always be strong in body and spirit, a queen, even when she can't speak the language of her new home or when her crown remains behind for someone else. 

My hesitation in writing about this book was my concern that I could not adequately convey the pervasive dignity and warmth of this family and of the people of the camp. It all sounds terribly dire, and yet Abia engages in familiar child's play.  She doesn't bother with princess stories. Hers is an act of claiming her place as queen. She needs no toy wand to recognize the magic within her. The crown of acacia vines woven by her father is an affirmation of her value and her future. Drawing on the powers of persistence, hope, love, and trust, Abia walks with her head held high. She does not claim her strength, or cleverness, or balance, or her troops based on any sense of superiority, but as her human right to a place of agency within a world that provides very little control.

The text is as steady and straightforward as Abia's steps through life. The illustrations realistically reveal details about camp life and Abia's family in saturated and earthy colors. The expansive and intimate perspectives do not shy away from a dusty and repetitious life, but they do not invite pity or disdain. 

Back matter includes an author note about the fiction and reality within the story, as well as providing reliable links to learn more about camps for refugees and displaced persons. An extensive bibliography of other books for young readers on this topic is particularly useful for adults (especially teachers) and kids.

I hope that this picture book will find its way into the lives of many of you, and that you will be as affected by it as I have been. If so, please share it.