TOMO

For Tomo, who was born to an Ethiopian Jewish mother and an Eritrean Moslem father, life was never going to be easy.

He lost the fingers of his right hand, hacked off with a machete as he tried to climb back into the traffickers’ boat after they had thrown him, and his three companions, into the sea.

The pursuing coastguards soon found him. He spent eight months in an Italian hospital before they came to deport him back to Somalia. Escaping from the police van was surprisingly easy but now he has only hazy memories of his travels up through France.

At Calais other traffickers, who were no better than slave traders, moved amongst the huddled men. One, a giant Rumanian, took a clear fancy to the handsome young Tomo and ambushed him when he went to collect firewood. Tomo left him, curled up and squealing, and took off running; not stopping until he was many miles away. He kept going westward.

It was in the middle of a frosty November night when Tomo lay his head on the stone steps of Rouen Cathedral. Strangely, the cold porch brought a warmth to his soul. He had found his home.

In the Benedictine Monastery on Mont Saint Michel last week, a tall, gaunt, black monk welcomed the visitors.

Tomo’s past was etched in every hollow and line of his face; but Frere Thomas’ life showed in the healthy glow of that ebony skin and the warm, wide, smile of his greeting

© Avril King