Mohamed was kidnapped by Sierra Leonean rebels and made to kill.

There was smoke everywhere. My mother was sleeping deeply. She didn't wake up. I tried to move her, but she was too fat. I woke my stepfather, but it was too late. The fire was inside the room. I ran away.

Lieutenant "Cuthand" took me. He said I should join them. He caught me and drugged me with brown-brown [a form of cocaine]. I felt bad. Then they gave me a gun. They gave me an ax. I cut off hands. I killed. Many times. I thought about my mom. My eyes were red, and I wasn't feeling good, but I kept on destroying. I kept thinking about my mother. When I thought about her, I would cry remembering all the things she did for me. She paid my school fees and, when I was sick, took me to the hospital. Anything I wanted, my mother gave me. I was afraid. Lieutenant "Blood" told me if I didn't cut off people's hands, then my own hand would be cut off. I cut off the ear and gave the ear to the person to eat instead of killing the person. I didn't want to do it, but when I turned around the other guys were looking at me. The people ate the ears. No one refused because I had a gun. I was with the rebels for four years. Last year I escaped from the port in Freetown. I saw friends from school. I tore off my uniform. They asked me for money. I didn't have any. I said that I would bail out water for them. That's how I came to Guinea. I stayed in the streets with my friends. I didn't eat. I didn't wash. I begged for drink. When I came here [to an IRC center in Conakry], I have forgotten those things, thanks be to God.

I don't feel guilty. But the side effects of the drugs bother me. My head hurts when the sun is hot and I think about it.