Biography
I was born Aly Samabaly in the Democratic Republic of Congo and I am of Malian descent. I have come a very, very long way from my days of walking and running without shoes, playing with friends in my village, catching butterflies, and eating just about anything we could find that could help us make it to the next morning.
Being born in Africa is very difficult for a child; my case was even worse. My parents were separated and I was raised by my Mother and Grandmother, whom I considered my heroes. I lived in a one bedroom house with my Mother, Grandmother, Aunt, and all of her children. In that one bedroom, we slept everywhere. Nights were extremely difficult. After a certain time, we were not allowed to go to the bathroom outside in the woods, because it would mean having to step over someone. The elders would always tell us to go to the bathroom before we came inside, because after you came in, you couldn’t go back out. As a result, I peed my bed many times. The worse part was when the elders found out that you peed on the bamboo mat that we slept on. They would take you out in front of the entire village so the kids in the neighborhood could laugh at you. They thought that it was a great way to embarrass you and to also teach you a lesson. On top of that, they would beat us really bad. I remember a night that I could not go to bed because I was hurt from being beaten very badly.
I was the only boy on my Father’s side and the last son on my Mother’s. The kids on my Father’s side hated me because they thought since I was the only boy, that I would inherit everything from him once he passed. Similarly, my Mother’s family hated me because I was her last son and because she protected me and loved me more than anything. I remember when my Mother went away for business, we didn’t have anything to eat, so we stole mangoes from people’s trees to feed ourselves. My friends and I would walk many kilometers to go help the farmers sell their mangoes. We would go through the neighborhood trash looking for cans to sell to the white store owners in the city for a couple of pennies. I also remember, every night after I was done picking up the cans and selling mangoes in the street, I would walk around the neighborhood with a bottle of gas hoping to sell to people to light their lamps. Back then we did not have electricity; those that were fortunate to have electricity, had money. We had one small black and white television in the whole neighborhood. Whenever the station aired a great football game (soccer), the owner of the tv would put it outside in his backyard for everyone to watch. That was my favorite time, besides playing with my friends in dirt or catching butterflies.