So what is it about being African that means once you reach adulthood, you are still a "boy"?  I’m wondering because there is another new documentary out about the so-called "Lost Boys of Sudan," a group of Sudanese refugees who were given a nickname out of "Peter Pan" by a Western journalist.

Is the the only way to get sympathy for Africans to infantilize them? 

"God Grew Tired of Us"  documents the travails of several of these men as they are brought to the US.  The media like to tell this story. "60 Minutes" ran an extended segment on the "boys," and various other outlets have portrayed their tale. An Atlanta Constitution-Journal reporter penned a tome, "The Lost Boys Of Sudan: An American Story Of The Refugee Experience."

I’m not saying their story shouldn’t be told, and yes, at one time they were in fact boys, but it bothers me that the plot is usually this:  Some "lucky" Sudanese got to be re-settled in
the US.  The underlying message is about the civilizing of these "lost" souls, "saving" them through a dose of Western consumer culture and Christian charity.  To be sure, life in a refugee camp is horrific, but in agreeing to leave Africa for the West, much is in fact lost.

And to be clear, these fellows haven’t been 6 years old in quite some time.

An earlier doc, "The Lost Boys of Sudan"
paired two men’s stories:  The refugee who tried to become completely
assimilated into a devout Midwestern Christian culture and thereby lost
all sense of himself; and another refugee who tried to hold onto his
sense of his African soul and, perhaps because of this, was financially
impoverished. 

It all reminds me of Edward Said’s notion of the "permission to narrate" and how difficult it often is for members of non-dominant groups to claim authority to speak for themselves. Nigel Parry quotes Said’s words:

"I soon discovered that I would have to be on my guard against authority and that I needed to develop some mechanism or drive not to be discouraged by what I took to be efforts to silence or deflect me from being who I was, rather than becoming who they wanted me to be. In the process, I began a lifelong struggle and attempt to demystify
      the capriciousness and hypocrisy of a power whose authority depended absolutely on its ideological self-image as a moral agent, acting in good faith and with unimpeachable intentions."

Some of the refugees have gotten a chance to tell their own stories:

• "They Poured Fire On Us From The Sky: The True Story of Three Lost Boys from Sudan" by Alphonision Deng, Benson Deng, Benjamin Ajak, and Judy Bernstein.
• "Lost Boy No More: A True Story Of Survival And Salvation" by Abraham Nhail and DiAnn Mills.

This fall I heard a Sudanese refugee give a talk. He called for other Africans to take an interest in the entire continent not just their own countries, and, as Africans, to make a difference.  Sounded awfully adult to me.