Editor’s note: This is first in a five-part series about African students’ experiences in the United States.

The kid: Young Dual Bijiek used to watch helplessly as soldiers from the North would rape women and kill farmers’ cows in the little village of Fangak in Southern Sudan.

The soldier: Determined to fight back, 15-year-old Bijiek joined the Southern Sudan Liberation Army in 1989.

The refugee: For two years, Bijiek spent part of his life at the Ifo refugee camp in Kenya after he fled Sudan. The camp was sponsored by the United Nations.

It was at the refugee camp that Bijiek was approached with an application from Church World Services, an organization that helped to bring Sudanese refugees to the United States. In 1995 he was granted asylum by the United States, and is now a senior in management at Iowa State.

Africans such as Bijiek come to the United States for different reasons. Olamide Shadiya, graduate student undeclared, said she came because she feels the United States offers her better opportunities in male-dominated fields. She said some come to the United States because American degrees are more valuable than Nigerian degrees. Bijiek’s journey, however, began by chance one day in 1991.

Bijiek said when someone had overthrown the leader of the Sudan People’s Liberation Army in 1991, he began having doubts about staying in Sudan.

“I was a soldier in the Sudan People’s Liberation Army, and in 1991 there was a break up in the SPLA. Somebody did a coup to the leader of the SPLA, and after that there was fighting within the SPLA,” Bijiek said.

“I decided that this is not what we are supposed to do. Instead of fighting with the enemy in the North, we are fighting each other. Then I decided to leave Sudan.”

In 1993 he began a month-long journey to the Ifo refugee camp in Kenya with his wife and seven other people.

“I packed just my mosquito net and some food and water,” Bijiek said. “So when we were on the way and our food was gone, we depended on grass. We had to cook the grass. There are some grasses in Sudan that you can cook and eat, so we ate grass.”

As Bijiek tries to piece together details about his life in his past and present, one piece is still missing from the puzzle: his brother.

Bijiek was at the refugee camp with his brother, who was the victim of tribalism in Kenya. A native intentionally hit him with his car.

“They kill a lot of people in Sudan like that,” Bijiek said. “They don’t want Sudanese to be in Kenya.”

Bijiek said he’s had a mixture of good and bad experiences in the United States. As he talks about those experiences, he wears a calm, distant look on his face.

“When I was in Perry, I was coming from work with my friend,” Bijiek said. “So we went home to the apartment where we lived. The police came to the apartment where we lived, and he knocked on the door. And he said to my friend that his driving was not good. I think that was not fair, because you have to stop someone on the road. You can’t go to the house and give someone a ticket.”

On Sept. 11, 2001, he was coming from a class in Marston Hall when a girl crashed into him with her bicycle. She immediately picked herself up, and without saying a word, rode away.

“I don’t blame her,” Bijiek said. “She might be thinking that I am part of those people who did this thing.”

He also talked about some experiences he has had in class.

“Sometimes when you are in groups, you don’t feel like you are a part of the group, because sometimes even if you say something, they don’t take it that you have said something,” he said. “When you participate in your group, sometimes they don’t care about what you are contributing.”

Despite these experiences, he said he has enjoyed his time here.

“The school is really good,” Bijiek said. “I really like it here. I am happy that I have come to Iowa State.”

Bijiek volunteers for the Iowa Arts Council every year to help document the experience of refugees in the United States, and he plans to go back to Sudan when he is done with school.

Part of his goal is to fight illiteracy in Southern Sudan.

“I want to go back to work there to help people get education,” he said, wearing the same calm, distant look. “What I am doing now is my degree in business, so I will help people do businesses. That’s the big plan for me. I am also planning on being a teacher to help the kids that do not have schools.”

As he speaks he stares from within places and times he would rather forget. It is clear that even after 33 years, there is still a refugee, a soldier and a kid inside of him.