Amal Taj Elddine

In Memory of Shamsa 19/08/2023 – 28/12/2024

Our little kitten from Madani, who brought light to our days during the war and filled our lives with joy. I found her at the office, and her mother was nowhere to be found. I was worried about her, so I took her home with me. Every time I went out, I asked around about her mother, hoping she would return so I could give her back. But her mother never showed up, and she ended up staying with us.

She was very small, about two weeks old at most. We bought her eye drops and started feeding her milk, each of us taking turns. She would sleep beside me and wake up at 5 AM, waking me up by biting me on the face.

The neighbor’s cat used to come and attack her, so we always made sure to stay close to her. Whenever the neighbor’s cat would strike, she would lie on her back and roll over dramatically.

As she grew older, she started ignoring us and became more sneaky. Sometimes we would play with her, and she would turn her back to us.

When the war reached Madani and we decided to leave, we didn’t have a box for her, so we put her in a bag. She didn’t like being in the bag, so we carried her in our hands whenever we traveled by car. She was displaced with us from Madani to Sinnar, to Rabak, to North Joda, and later became a refugee with us in South Sudan.

Throughout the journey, she was quite mischievous, and people were surprised that we were carrying our cat with us.

We stayed in Renk for three weeks, and she was a source of joy and chaos in the hotel, which had sandy floors. She was happy playing in the sand.

When we traveled to Juba by plane, it was another adventure because we were afraid they would stop her, and we couldn’t leave her behind. But thank God, they did not and she made it to Juba with us.

At the airport, the workers insisted that she was a “wild cat” because of her colors, and they were scared of her. But we kept her with us and showed her to them so they could feel reassured.

We spent a week in a hotel, and we were careful about keeping everything clean because she loved rummaging through trash bags.

One day, we found a praying mantis, and we were afraid of it, so we called her to come eat it. But she, herself, was scared of it and, as usual, made a dramatic scene.

After that, we moved to a house with a big yard and stayed there for 9 months. These were the best days for Shamsa. She played in that yard, torturing snails and lizards. The most important thing was that she got pregnant and gave birth to kittens on June 24, 2023: Solja, Sembriya, Misha, and Fulla. Three boys and one girl. Each of us chose one and named it.

Each one of her kittens had their own personality. Solja, who was orange, was very calm and didn’t meow much. The best thing about him was that he would meow like Misha. Sembriya, with her dark brown color, was the calmest and had no sound at all, except when she was locked out of the room. Then, she would call us with a sweet voice. She didn’t like being picked up, and her play was rough. Misha, with his light brown color, would meow and swim, meowing for no reason, but he loved to play. Fulla, who was brown with white, didn’t meow, but would grumble and hit Sembriya, poor thing. However, his mother would come and smack him when he ran, and he would steal food from the plate and stuff his face with it.

In September, we traveled to Uganda. It was a long and tiring journey. Before that, we had been putting them in boxes to get them used to it, so they wouldn’t cause the drama their mother did. And it actually helped a little with them. Fella, Solja, and Sembriya were in one box with the gang, while Misha, the meower, was with me and his mother. Every time he meowed, Shamsa would take care of him and hit him..

We arrived in Biale, and it was a pleasant 10 days. We stayed in a hotel, and Shamsa and her kittens became the stars of the place because they caught all the rats.

Then, we moved to Kampala. We stayed in a house for three weeks, and one of the neighbors had a cat as well. The small ones were afraid of her, but Shamsa, being the fierce one, went after her.

One day, they went out to the street, and unfortunately, Solja got hit by a car, and we lost him. It was a very painful experience for us because they had become a part of us, and we didn’t know that the worst was yet to come.

On October 1, 2024, my mother passed away, and it was the hardest thing we could go through. We had no one with us and no Sudanese neighbors to share our grief with. Shamsa and her kittens were there for us. Whenever we cried, she would come to comfort us and sleep beside us. She really sensed our sadness.

We moved to another house, where we felt much happier. But then a cat attacked Shamsa, and we lost her. After that, one of the neighbors poisoned Misha, Fella, and Sembriya. That’s how the year ended, with losing them. It was incredibly painful for us, and we spent a long time mentally exhausted from what had happened. But I reminded myself and the kids of the beautiful times we shared with Shamsa, the lovely memories she and her kittens left us, the many pictures, and, most of all, the laughter and mischief they brought. We are truly grateful for them.

Shamsa was our sun, the one who brightened the darkness we felt because of the war. We’re so grateful to her for helping us through that difficult time and for being there with us when we needed her most.