When the war broke out again in South Sudan, my dad was shot in front of me, and before I could grieve for him, I lost my brothers as well in another attack. The grief clouded my mind, and eventually, my mother sent me away because it was not safe anymore. The journey was long and dangerous, but eventually we reached Kakuma, Kenya. While we all struggled to tend for our basic needs, fighting broke out over frustrations and not understanding each other's languages. My past traumas continued to haunt me, and combined with the lack of opportunities, my lingering for going home increased along with my sense of loneliness. See how learning the local language, Swahili, and English helped me communicate better with people around me to turn fighting into love and appreciation for greeting people and living more freely. I found a counselor that helped me open up about my traumatic experiences and guide me on how to process them. To pay forward the care I experienced from a teacher in my childhood, I started studying teaching to fulfill my career dream. Today I can use my own experiences to teach the children not just how to learn, but also how to process their experiences in life. This is my story.