By Alek Wek
Alek Wek has been the face of advert campaigns for corporations starting from trainer to Michael Kors to Nars and has labored the runways on behalf of designers reminiscent of Diane von Furstenberg and Christian Dior. but her defining moments expand past the runways of recent York, Milan, Paris, and London. Born to a middle-class family members within the Sudan, Wek came across her lifestyles all of sudden inverted whilst civil struggle broke out between outlaw militias, the Muslim-dominated executive, and southern rebels. The clash not just killed million humans, it created a whole neighborhood of refugees, together with Wek's family—many of whom fled to London. here's Wek's awesome, bold tale of emerging from refugee to overseas stick insect.
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Extra resources for Alek: From Sudanese Refugee to International Supermodel
The doctors had told him to come back to have them removed after a few months, and he had planned to, but then things in Wau became very difﬁcult. His hip became badly infected and he could only hobble. With such trouble walking, he fell and broke his left arm, too. He was having a miserable time, but there was no way he could return to Khartoum for treatment. He struggled to get to the latrine each night, but he did it on his own. He was proud that way. I was worried about him. Soon, there were a lot of trucks on the roads, and gunﬁre in the distance.
A lot of the militias were still children. As I waited for sunrise, I pictured the soldiers, the rebels, and the militias attacking each other. I had seen dead bodies, so I knew what happened when someone got shot. In my imagination, they shot and stabbed and kicked each other until they were all dead and we were able to sleep in peace. Still sleep didn’t come, so I drifted between prayer and imagination, just trying to keep my mind off what was happening outside. I thought of a photo I saw in a magazine that a foreign aid worker had left behind at my school.
The sound of Kalashnikovs peppered most nights and I never got used to it; I could never sleep through it. The rebels were ﬁghting the army. The army was ﬁghting the police. The gangsters were killing whoever stood between them and money, or clothes, chickens, or even someone ’s old ﬂip-ﬂops. You couldn’t turn your head without seeing an automatic riﬂe. If there was a bullet to spare, it might just be for you. The sound of the weapons was terrifying. Every day we ran home from school and closed the gate tightly, trying to keep out the impending darkness.
Alek: From Sudanese Refugee to International Supermodel by Alek Wek