Home Before The War - Nab's Journey Begins With Family

Home can disappear in a single night but the memory of it can keep you alive for years. We sit down with Emmanuel Mohammed Nabieu, known as Nabs, to begin a multi-part Child’s View journey that starts before conflict, before separation, and before survival becomes the only goal. Nabs takes us to Sami, his small village in Sierra Leone, where everyone is family, children learn by working and playing side by side, and nights are filled with laughter and stories under the moonlight. 

We talk about the people who formed him long before he became a global advocate for family-based care and orphan prevention. You’ll hear about his grandmother Sato, a master storyteller whose mermaid tale makes honesty unforgettable, and the proverb that still guides him. Nabs also shares the lesson his uncle teaches with a real fire, showing why “family is the flame that keeps us warm” and what happens when the wood is pulled apart. Along the way, we remember the friendships, village celebrations, and big dreams that grew in the middle of a rural village - a community in deep poverty that never lacked love. 

Then the atmosphere shifts. Strangers pass through carrying babies and fear, adults whisper warnings, and the first gunshots turn a familiar place into confusion and terror. This part ends where his long journey begins, anchored by one steady longing: to go back home, back to family, back to the fire. If you care about child welfare, global health, ethical missions, trauma and resilience, or strengthening families and communities, this story will stay with you. Subscribe, share this with someone who cares about protecting children, and leave a rating and review to help more listeners find Optimistic Voices.

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Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:26

Welcome to Optimistic Voices, a podcast of helping children worldwide. We help children worldwide by strengthening and empowering families and communities. This podcast is for people interested in deep conversations with thought leaders in the fields of child welfare, global health, and international missions.

SPEAKER_03 0:46

Welcome to Optimistic Voices, a child's view, where we listen to the world through the voices and memories of children, the adults they become, and the people who help them along the way. I'm your host, Dr. Melody Curtis, and this is my co-host, Elena Childress, here to present you with a youth perspective on the story we'll share today. Hi, Elena, it's been a moment.

SPEAKER_02 1:09

I know. We haven't recorded a single Child's View episode until now, and it's spring.

SPEAKER_03 1:14

Elena, I hope you're ready for our guest. He's a powerhouse.

SPEAKER_02 1:19

I know. Nabs is amazing. Our listeners should know that we're doing something different this year. The Child's View stories in 2026 will primarily be the story of one child, told in parts. Today we begin a powerful journey with part one. This journey is one of memory, survival, and something even deeper, the meaning of home.

SPEAKER_03 1:42

Before we begin, I want to send a shout out to our newest sponsors and paid subscribers. These people help underwrite the cost of producing important and compelling stories about real people, real lives, and hard truths, as well as sharing the voices and perspectives of some of the most essential professionals in the fields of child welfare, global health, and ethical mission. You can listen to Optimistic Voices for free, but if you want to help us to bring more stories to life, consider getting a paid subscription. It's easy to do and inexpensive, and you are contributing to advancing the mission to prevent children from ever becoming orphaned and helping us to change the world. So check out our podcast page in our show notes.

SPEAKER_02 2:33

Today we begin with a story that starts not with loss, but with belonging. There was a village, there was laughter, there was family, and there was a boy who everyone called Chief. We're joined by Emmanuel Mohammed Nabiu, known as Nabs, author of My Long Journey Back Home. Any of our listeners who don't know Nabs, he is not only the country director for HTW in Sierra Leone, but also in charge of Mission Advancement and Partnership.

SPEAKER_03 3:04

Which is a fancy way of saying he is part of our leadership team and uses his background, lived experience, and master's degree in organizational leadership to help with our most strategic engagements and decisions. Nabbs is recognized globally as an expert and strong advocate for family care. He has been tapped by governments and major NGOs to share his expertise in work groups, policy think tanks, and presentations. And his autobiography isn't the only published work. You can read more about his mile-long list of accomplishments and activities in the show notes. I just want to get right to the story of his childhood because that's the point of Child's View episodes.

SPEAKER_02 3:50

Yes, this is Nab's story. Many of our listeners may think they know it already. Some may have read his book and may remember this part of the story, but it's not the part most people ask him to talk about. This is not just a story about how war disrupts a child's life. This is a story about what a child remembers before everything changes and how that shapes him.

SPEAKER_03 4:13

It's not just compelling, it's warm and funny. And even though it describes a rural village life in Africa, as a grandmother, I find the story of your early years oddly familiar and so endearing. You were kind of a clever rascal. That's intended as a compliment. Anyway, welcome.

SPEAKER_01 4:36

Thank you, Melody. You know, although I don't necessarily agree that I was, you know, rasca or particularly clever, I appreciate it, compliment. Thank you.

SPEAKER_02 4:47

Nabs, take us there. What did your world look like as a child before the war, before the fear? What did your village feel like through your eyes as a child?

SPEAKER_01 4:59

I grew up in a small village called Sami. It was small, maybe 500 people. But to me, it felt like the whole world. It was full of life. So during the days, we walked. Every child worked. Like I was three years old when I started uh doing farm work, helping my parents to do farm work. So as soon as a child, as soon as you are old enough to dig, to plant, or to help in any way, you'll be put to work. But oh, in the evenings, my friends and I will run through the hills, you know, racing each other, laughing at the river. There will be women who will be talking and laughing while washing clothes. Happy days. And at night, we will gather around the fire. The others, you know, we told us stories. Stories passed down from their fathers and their fathers before them from generation to generation. You know, that's how we learned who we were. We sat under the moonlight, listening to stories from the elders around the fire. This was done, you know, in front of our house, under the coconut tree, or down at the village choir, where almost the whole village will gather. The others remind us that gathering around the fire was about more than just warmth. It was about igniting the genuine love that family brings. They will tell us we don't come together just to see the moon or benefit from the warmth of the fire. Each person can see the moon from their own home and they can gather firewood to build a fire. But we come together because it is healthy for the community to bond. This strengthens the love and unity we share as big family. It makes us strong and it keeps our community alive. That was home in my village. Everyone was family, close family. There was no word for cousin in our local language. It means we didn't need it, you know, because everyone was, you know, brother, everyone was sister, everyone was aunt, everyone was uncle, your grandmother, your grandfather. Everyone was just big family.

SPEAKER_02 7:10

What did it feel like to be a part of that?

SPEAKER_01 7:13

It felt safe, you know, like I belonged. Even though we didn't have much, we had each other. My grandmother used to say, family is the flame that keeps us warm.

SPEAKER_02 7:30

Tell me about your grandmother.

SPEAKER_01 7:31

Yeah, my grandmother, Sato, that was her name, Sato. You know, we call her the wise one. She could turn any moment into a story. She will gather us children and say, you know, she had a very soothing voice. Say, sit down. Let me tell you something important. And then she will tell us stories about honesty, about kindness, about you know, not being jealous because everybody's life is different.

SPEAKER_02 8:00

Did you always listen?

SPEAKER_01 8:02

Oh, yes, Alina. Oh, yes. You know, but but but you know, mostly because she was such a great storyteller. We knew there would be a lesson at the end of every story, but she told the stories with a little drama too. She will act out stories, and when she finished, she will say in her calm voice, Now you can clap for me. And some of us, you know, we even give her a standing ovation, clapping for her and chering her on.

SPEAKER_03 8:32

Can you share one of your grandmother's stories? I really like the mermaid story that's in your book, Naps. Can you tell us that story?

The Family Flame That Fades

SPEAKER_01 8:40

Oh, sure, definitely, you know, it is a traditional African story, even though people don't always think of mermaids as part of our culture. People know the proverb, you know, but many don't remember the story. So my grandmother will wait for us to think about it, and then she will give us its meaning through an African proverb. Again, she has this soft and soothing voice that you know will make you just want to keep listening to her like forever. She will go, There used to be a beautiful mermaid in the village river. One day, a post-parmer boy came to clean his machete after work, but he accidentally dropped it into the river and it sank. He sat by the river with his hands on his head crying. After two hours of crying, the maume came out and asked, Why are you crying? I lost my machete, and my father will punish me if I go home without it. The boy said. She went back and brought a silver machete. Is this yours? The boy shook his head. She went into a third can and brought an old rusty machete. Before she could even ask, the boy jumped with happiness and said, Yes, yes, that is my machete. He thanked her and prepared to leave. The mermaid was moved by the boy's honesty. She told him to wait and went back into the river. When she returned, she brought the gold and silver machetes and gave them to him as a reward. The boy went home happily, and his family became very rich. Quickly, the news spread throughout the village. A week later, another boy came and intentionally dropped his machete into the river. He sat there crying fake tears. The mommy came out and asked, Why are you crying? My mashere fell in the river. I need it back, he said. The mommy went down and brought a silver mashere. The boy rushed forward and said, Yes, that is mine. But the mommy said, No, no, no, no. Your mashere is still at the bottom of the river. And because of your dishonesty, you are going home with nothing. So, not even your old machete. Sato, we end the story always in a very dramatic mode. And the boy went home in frustration. The end. You cannot clap for me. And then we all clap for her, and then we will stand up, and then he will be just happy and just so happy for the story she will tell us.

SPEAKER_02 14:31

Melody is right. That is a great story. What is the proverb?

SPEAKER_01 14:37

Honesty pays. And truth is the game.

SPEAKER_02 14:43

I like that. I think a similar American saying is honesty is the best policy. But I think more kids would remember it if we sat around a fire under the moonlight and heard a story from your grandmother. I agree.

SPEAKER_03 14:58

Speaking of fire snap, you talk about family as a flame that keeps you warm. Can you explain that to us the way your family showed you?

Parents’ Lessons On Hope And Giving

Why He Was Called Chief

SPEAKER_01 15:08

I would love to. You know, I heard this story many times. But I had forgotten it. My uncle was also a great storyteller and teacher. Just like my grandmother said one night, when I first found my family again, we were all together. Gathered around a fire. Just like I remember from my childhood in the village. Seeing them like that, I began to put my childhood memories back in place. And I was trying to adjust to having a family again. I was surrounded by my family. And my feelings were overwhelming. My uncle noticed that I took, you know, I have looked out of place. I was far gone. I was physically present with them. But my mind was far away, wandering. So he wanted to remind me of the flame. He took brawny pieces of wood and placed them apart. Slowly, each one began to fade. In force, one faded. The fire itself also started to die. Then he brought them back together, and the flames became alive again. He told me, Look, chase and a bill. I used to tell you the same thing when you were growing up. Family is the soothing flame that ignites genuine love and nourishes our souls to flourish. When family members are separated, or when a family breaks apart, the flame and its warmth begin to fade. That is what I mean. That is what I carry inside me today about family and community. When we are together, we burn strong. When we are separated, the flame fades. Sometimes not even clothes. We fetched water from the river and slept on tattered mats. But I was never without love. My family cared for me so deeply. My parents worked so hard. My grandmother told stories. So we were poor, but we were happy.

SPEAKER_03 18:29

And did you learn these things from your mother and father?

Friends Games And Big Dreams

SPEAKER_01 18:33

Very much so. My mother, Jennifer, it means beautiful. My father, Mamadu, his name means strength. And he was so strong. He worked long days on the farm. His hands were rough. His body was tired. And he carried injuries that never fully healed, treated with traditional medicine because there are no doctors or nurses in our village or even nearby close. But he never stopped walking. Every day he got up and walked again. When her water bucket floated away down the river, maybe you know he wanted to impress her. But that was who he was a kind of hero. And his heart was generous. To stay very hopeful and be kind. But he told me that one day I will get an education. So one day I asked him, Why do we give food away? When we don't even have enough, he placed his hands on my shoulders, looked deeply in my eyes, and said, Chief, do not say for tomorrow why someone is hungry today. And that became part of me. That's a powerful lesson.

SPEAKER_02 20:12

You were called chief. Why?

SPEAKER_01 20:15

You know, I was called many names growing up. I was sometimes called a questionnaire because I asked so many questions. You know, Nav's the dreamer, the curious village head. You know, I guess I asked a lot of questions, and some people said I acted like a leader. But in the way that a child can lead, because I was a child. I organized games, I helped others, and I spoke up. So maybe I could speak up because my father made me feel safe. In our culture, it wasn't considered proper for a child to question adults too much. But I asked questions about everything. I mean, everything about food, about healthcare, about education, families, transportation, everything. Some days I had so many questions that after my father answered me, he would tell me, okay, now don't talk anymore for the rest of the day. I even asked the village, yeah, honestly, I even asked the village chief questions. I took risks. It was very difficult for you to go confront the chief and ask a bunch of questions. So, but I did many times to help my friends get what we wanted. Even if all we wanted was to stay a little longer at the village Christmas party and dance, they would because they will send the children home early during those dances, and we have moves, we wanted to show always, you know, and um we didn't think that was fair.

SPEAKER_02 21:57

I think that was brave. Did you feel like a leader?

SPEAKER_01 22:05

You know, trying to belong, trying to have fun and play with my friends.

SPEAKER_03 22:10

So tell us about your friends.

SPEAKER_01 22:13

Well, three friends I had growing up, Kini, Ali, and Ibrahim. We are always together. We have big dreams. Kinney was bold, you know, ready for anything. Ali was funny, he made everyone laugh. Ibrahim, on the other hand, was thoughtful. He always thought before acting. And me, well, I tried to bring us together.

SPEAKER_02 22:37

What did you do together?

SPEAKER_01 22:39

Everything. Everything from running in the rain, jumping into the red mud road, to swimming in rivers, to chasing birds. You know, we we didn't have thought, but we had imagination. We had dance competitions and storytelling. We met each other at Arabic clubs. We were close, and our families we are close too. We did everything together, you know, swimming, climbing trees, fetching water, fetching firewood, going hunting. We each had our own personality, but we shared so much. Ali, Kinney, and I we are very extroverted. We love, you know, being around people. We love dancing, running, catching light bulbs, you know, feeding chickens and ducks and hunting birds and spirits with slingshots. Some nights after working on the farm when the moon was shining bright, we played hide and seek. Ibrahim was always the last to come out of hiding, usually still at home, you know, eating his nightmare. We called Ali our giraffe. He was tall, he was very tall and skinny with long arms and legs. He could reach low-hanging fruits without even stretching. You are welcome, he would say. He loved music, especially rap music. You know, even when he didn't understand the words, he would tell us, Come on, people, you dance to the beats, not to the walls. You know, and he he made up, he made sure we danced. You know, but hiding in games was hard for him when we did our games in the bushes to play around. And running through forests, even harder for him because of low branches, tangled roads, they will slow him down. He always came in last but never stopped trying. He loved singing Mendeley songs, traditional songs in the forest. He had a beautiful voice. He said he got that voice from his mother, a well-known singer in the village. She led many songs doing the rice harvest for the women's groups. We call Kinney, the snake master, he thrived in the forest. He was strong, he was fast, he was very grounded. You know, he wasn't afraid of snakes, which you know was unusual. As a child, his grandmother took him to the village herbalist who gave him traditional protection ropes. We always made him lead when we walked through tall grasses. On many occasions, we saw him face live snakes. He would chat as if the snakes would run away. His grandmother, she taught us reputation matters. She often reminded us the cobra that blocks the path is going his own way. But people run away when they see him. Be good boys, she would say, build a good reputation. Then she will smile and add, come back with fresh fruits. And if you find Bush me, please don't forget me. Ibrahim, we often follow his lead. He was very different, you know, calm, very thoughtful, very steady. He always knew what to say and where to say it. He loved football. The real football, I mean, where you play with your feet. He calculated every move before kicking the ball. He loved planning. His room was always neat. Even in a mud house, we had to leave our sleepers outside. When we were stuck or frustrated, Abraham would think deeply. Why, you know, keep us hopeful. Abraham was the only one attending formal school. The rest of us only attended Arabic class because it was spring and our families couldn't afford formal schooling. He shared what he learned. He taught us the English alphabet and numbers. We would sit on the ground and he would write on the wall with charcoal. When his father got upset, we wrote on the floor instead.

SPEAKER_03 26:33

Sounds like you had some great friendships. You said you and your friends had big dreams. Tell us what were those dreams?

Weddings Dancing And Learning Respect

SPEAKER_01 26:41

Well, for poor village kids, big dreams are the same as for kids everywhere. We all had something we wanted to do, or something we wanted to become, or someone we wanted to become. Our dreams kept changing depending on the situations we faced in our village. Kinney's dream was to become a professional swimmer, and he was very good at it. In our rivers, ponds, and lakes, he could hold his breath longer than any of us. Ali had big dreams too. He wanted to be a great storyteller, like his grandmother, and also a police officer. When he visited the city, he saw police officers working and he became so fascinated. So he said he wanted to be the first police officer to protect our village. For Ibrahim, he was our future scientist or engineer. He loved fixing things, connecting broken wires, repairing radios, working with scrap metal. Most of the time, he will sit quietly, thinking deeply, as if he was solving the world's problems in his mind. Loosing up, Ibrahim will say, You think too much like an old grumpy grandpa. What are you planning out? Well, I am thinking of making something, he will say, something, well, something what will ask him. Ali will ask him, something big. Well, he didn't always know what it was yet. And your big dream was to get an education and be able to make a substantial impact on the lives of others and their community. I thought of things like building roles, being a scientist or a doctor, or flying a plane. I didn't have any experience with any of those things. I knew I needed an education to do any of them. So my biggest dream was really to get an education.

SPEAKER_02 28:35

And what did your family think of those big dreams?

SPEAKER_01 28:39

We talk about living in the village, and our parents will say village life is simple and peaceful, and there is beauty in simplicity. Then we ask, but what about us? What do we have in this village? Dad will turn to us and say, Life, friends, and above all, great love around you. I was a child, so I wanted my dreams to come true. But I didn't want to lose what I had. I loved the calmness, the greenery in fresh air, natural vegetation, open spaces from lakes, ponds, rivers, mountains, and valleys. I remember watching beautiful sunrises, stunning sunsets, you know, the starry skies, the rising of the moon, and hearing the symphony of birds singing. It wasn't just how it made me feel. The people who loved me, the lessons they taught me, the beauty of the village and the way we lived together with love, respect, and care for one another all shaped how I see things today.

SPEAKER_02 29:49

Tell me more about village celebrations, like weddings.

First Signs Of War And Fear

SPEAKER_01 29:53

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. You see, everyone was part of a wedding. It was so fun. You know, they were full of life. You know, the groom will come and say he had found a beautiful flower, and the family would test him. They will bring out the wrong cross post. Oh no. Oh yeah. Oh yes. You know, it was most it was mostly funny and enjoyed, but it was also a lesson. He had to choose carefully. It was about commitment, about knowing who you love. This actually happened to one of my friends. You know, he got he was kind of dating two uh the twins, the girls, right? So he was one day wanted to propose, he went to the house, and these were from different tribes, full of tribe. And what happened was they they brought the wrong twin force, and then he rushed and said, which one is it? You're the girl you are trying to propose to? He went and said, This is the other girl, this is the girl, and that was not really the real girl because they look so alive, and he his friend, his friend was standing by the corner, he just kind of whistled. No, no, he started shaking his head, you know, big rosely. And they said, No, no, no, no. I know this is not the one. It's the older one, the older one is inside. So he was he escaped narrowly, and that was that was not that was that was he was sweating, he was sweating his skin out. So sometimes it happened that way, but always very funny and in a very uh uh beautiful way when they do it that way.

SPEAKER_03 31:30

That is very, very amusing. Um, and and my husband would have been in a lot of trouble if he'd been picking my winned sister instead of me. That sounds like a movie scene. Yeah, yeah. So I'm hearing you say that you took risks and asked questions, not because you felt you had a bad life, but mostly because you didn't want to be treated like a child and excluded from the fun. Well, what kind of fun were you being excluded from exactly?

SPEAKER_01 32:04

Well, every year there was a big village party, a Christmas party for everyone, not just Christians. At night, there was music and dancing. The children were sent home early before the fun started. Maybe because of the drinking, or maybe you know our parents just wanted to keep us safe. But we were sneaking closer, trying to join in.

SPEAKER_02 32:32

Did they let you?

SPEAKER_01 32:33

Well, not really. So we made our own versions. We had dance competitions, trying to dance like the adults, trying to be seen.

SPEAKER_02 32:42

And the elders, did they see you? Were they impressed?

SPEAKER_01 32:46

You couldn't just do what you wanted as a child. You respected the elders, but you also watched them. You see, that's how you learn how to become an adult. And if you respected them and act respectfully, sometimes you got them to listen and change their minds.

SPEAKER_03 33:04

Oh, but I know at some point something shifted in your world. What was the first moment that you realized that something wasn't right in the village?

SPEAKER_01 33:20

The village began to change. Strangers started passing through, carrying heavy loads, babies on their backs. They looked exhausted, afraid. One woman told us, they are coming, run for your lives.

SPEAKER_02 33:44

What did that feel like as a child?

Holding On To Home And Closing

SPEAKER_01 33:48

Honestly, confusing. I didn't understand why people were running away. Why are grown men? We are crying. Why our peaceful village suddenly felt like a ghost place? I asked my grandmother, are they coming to kill us? She told us it's time it's it's time, it's time to hide.

SPEAKER_03 34:18

Do you remember the moment you knew everything had changed?

SPEAKER_01 34:23

Yes. Gunshots, screaming, people running in every direction. It's happened many times. But that first time I knew, I knew my father, when my father grabbed me, he put me on his shoulders and and asked him, are we safe now? He turned to me and said, Not yet, not yet, Chief.

SPEAKER_03 34:59

Naps, I know you. I know you have incredible resilience and optimism. And I'm not going to ask you what kept you optimistic, like we usually do at the end of an episode. I just know you were. But was there anything in that moment that was good that has stayed with you?

SPEAKER_01 35:24

I was saying, family, the flame. Even though I didn't understand what was happening, I knew one thing. I wanted to go back home. Back to my family. Back to the fire.

SPEAKER_03 35:47

Thank you, Naps, for joining us and telling this story again. Like I said, this is my favorite part of your story. Because knowing you as I do, it's incredible learning how your family shaped who you would grow to be in the future. For our listeners, this is where Naps's long journey begins. A journey of separation and survival, and the long road back to the student play. By a grandmother who told stories, a father who taught generosity. Friends who filled his days with laughter. A village that raised him.

SPEAKER_02 36:37

I guess my takeaway is that those roots would become his strength. Because what is planted deeply can survive even the fiercest strong.

SPEAKER_03 36:50

Thank you for that insight, Alina. People who know Nabs know how resilient he has been and the strength of his character. But we hope these stories this year will give them the insight you just shared on where that resilience and strength developed in the midst of all his struggles. In our next episode, we follow Nabs into that journey, through the forest, through fear, and towards something he could not yet understand. So we would like you all to come back and join us then. And in the meantime, listen to the Optimistic Voices podcast episodes featuring voices from the field, experts in orphan prevention strategies, in child welfare, global health, ethical, global alliances, and collaborative missions.

SPEAKER_02 37:38

Thank you, Naps, for joining us on this episode of Optimistic Voices a Child for you.

SPEAKER_01 37:45

Thank you very much, Alina.

SPEAKER_03 37:47

Happy Easter, everybody. Happy Easter.

SPEAKER_01 37:51

Thank you. Bye. Thank you, Melody.

SPEAKER_03 37:56

You bet. I know. Hi, it's Dr. Curtis again. If listeners also like the Read to Me picture book series that comes out of the Childview Podcast, I'm excited to share that we hope to have another six books to add to the eight we have in the series now. And you can get those exclusively online digitally or in the print edition to the Helping Children Worldwide website under the Resources section.

SPEAKER_00 38:32

Thanks for listening. If you enjoyed this episode, please subscribe, share it with others, post about it on social media, or leave a rating and review. To catch all the latest from us, you can find us at Helping Children Worldwide on Instagram, LinkedIn, Twitter, and Facebook.