Lost Boy pursuing education in the suburbs to help Sudan rebuild

Many of the business management students at Schaumburg's University of Phoenix campus are juggling full-time jobs and family obligations as they pursue the continuation of their education.

But William Mou of Wheaton may be the only current student to have survived gunfire, bombs, malnutrition and animal attacks on the plains of Africa to enroll there.

Mou, 30, is one of the former Lost Boys of Sudan who received U.S. citizenship after being relocated throughout the United States in 2001 after more than a decade in political exile in refugee camps.

For most of the past nine years of relative normalcy, he's worked for a supplier to Motorola in Schaumburg. In 2006, he married a Sudanese woman, who also escaped civil war and slavery. They are raising two young children as well as his wife's 11-year-old first son.

But it was Mou's 2008 visit to his homeland, where he was reunited with his parents and three of his four siblings he'd had no news of for 21 years, that inspired him to pursue goals above and beyond his own well-being.

"They said, 'Thank God, you came back!'" Mou said. "'You are the hope of the country!'"

After the visit, he started the not-for-profit Lost Boys Rebuilding Southern Sudan, the main goal of which is to build a school near his former village.

In aid of making this enterprise successful, he began pursuing a business management degree near his workplace in Schaumburg.

There he met Matt LaRue, a national account executive for Convergint Technologies in Schaumburg pursuing a higher degree of his own through night classes.

LaRue first thought of Mou as simply a fellow student whom he might be able to help out a little with the class. But after hearing Mou's life story and learning the overall saga of the Lost Boys in the documentary "God Grew Tired of Us," LaRoue became dedicated to Mou's larger goal.

He's since met many other of the Lost Boys living in various parts of America and said a strong work ethic and a devotion to a higher purpose is something they all share.

"They're very dedicated men, and they're very religious," LaRoue said. "Most have two jobs and have barely a few hours of sleep each night."

LaRoue is helping design a new, more effective website for Mou's group. It should replace the current site at rebuildingsouthernsudan.org in September, offering more detailed information about how to donate to the cause.

Mou said most current donors are either people or companies like LaRoue's with whom he's had personal contact, or come out of the various speaking engagements he takes on.

Elementary schools are especially eager to have Lost Boys like Mou speak to students who've already read about the plight of children who were the same age as they are during their three-year trek from Sudan to Ethiopia in the late '80s.

Before his 2008 visit, Mou's last contact with his family had come in the middle of the night in 1987 when his village was attacked.

At the age of 7, he found himself among 27,000 other children who endured a lack of food, water and medical attention as they sought sanctuary.

They walked by night in order to hide from the soldiers in the civil war, but instead endured attacks by rhinos, lions and crocodiles that claimed many lives along the way.

One day Mou injured his foot and believed he had no choice but to fall back and let the group go on. But another walker pointed to a dead body and told him that would be him unless he found a way to keep up.

The children were driven by the promise of prosperity in Ethiopia, which Mou still considers "a good lie."

Upon reaching Ethiopia, the group spent four years in refugee camps only to then be forced back to southern Sudan when the Ethiopian government was overthrown. Survivors of this second flight from violence eventually found safety in Kenya, from where they entered the United States.

Mou is looking forward to the completion of his degree in 2012, when he plans to return to Sudan to oversee completion of the school and the setup of its long-term management.

But the United States is now his permanent home, and Mou said his own children could never adapt to what would be a completely alien environment for them in Sudan.

Even as he works to raise money for the school, his own life is entering yet another period of uncertainty. His employer is going out of business at the end of May, forcing him to look for work. Motorola was the company's only client, but it will be doing in-house work it had previously contracted out, Mou said.

His wife is looking after their 2-year-old daughter and 1-year-old son, so Mou said it is up to him to find a new job in June.