I was born in East Africa (Somalia), during the war in Mogadishu, I remember the sound of the Black Hawks making thier way across the beach,it wasnt an environment where I could develop into the man my parents wanted me to become.My Father was a farmer the rebels what often haras him for food to supply them with enough to feed tier army so weponds became a familiar sight which I became used to. My parents immediately moved me to Aigues-Mortes - in the French countryside.The journey from my home to France took more than a year but I learned alot and met many people from different parts of the globe and it was easy to make the change as Somalia was the last place I wanted to be.
It was easy making new friends and mixing with the local culture and i soon felt like a native.
Mortality was also a big issue as I was growing up in Mogadishu and it led me into the field as a Mortician. The details of my proffession could have never prepaired me for the reality of what was to come...
When news broke of the outbreak in Chernarus I was attending a global health convension in Russia, I was immediately flown to Chernarus along with scientists and other proffecianals to assist with containing the outbreak. I'd heard about the mortality rate of soviet air lines but I put it to the back of my mind, mid flight I was woken up by screaming and a roaring sound coming from the left wing,Panic spread along the iles like an epidemic. The pilot spoke in a calm tone in a russian dialect as the flight attendants began thier crash safety routine. I new we were over the sea but as we hurtled to the ground I could see the flames bruning through the passenger window so bright they gave me no idea how long It would be before impact.
I woke up on the beach being pecked at by a seagul, there was a dead silence but I could tell I was not alone in Chernarus