Monday, May 12, 2014

Rebellion, Abduction and Reconciliation

Below is the story of one of our students at Beacon of Hope.  His story brought me to tears.  In the early 2000's, Uganda was a very war-torn country.  His is one of many stories that have changed the face of this country.  A country filled with young and old who have been scarred, both physically and emotionally, by war, civil conflict and unrest.  Note: when he mentions Primary Two he was around 7 or 8 years old.

THE DISGRACE THAT OUR FAMILY FACED DURING THE YEAR OF WAR IN NORTHERN UGANDA

                One day, at dawn, in the year 2000 my parents woke me up to go to the garden.  Unfortunately as we were in the garden the place became shrouded with mist.  Little did we know that the rebels were amidst us and all we could hear was “hoes down” from the rebels.  I was scared and frightened because the attack was upon us.  I felt like breathing my last breath before any pain was inflicted on me.  As they were tying the rope around our waist, I was completely at sea because I could not guess what would happen next.  Lucky enough, my mother was pregnant and they told her to “eff off” but to remain at home.  Me and my elder brother were captured together with our father (3 people from our family) and taken deep in the bush up to a place called “ATOO” Hill where the rebels were camping in “Acholi land.”  Though I tried my hardest to escape, it did not work out because I was under so much pressure and I could not figure out a plan.
                In the bush we were living in misery in such a way that every day, very early in the morning, we were sent in the cold to the top of a hill to carry stones.  The aim was to train us to be the upcoming soldiers (rebels) to overthrow the government.  Though I was my own master, I did not make merry with the other soldiers.  I had to endure the situation with my brother and our father.  My father was beaten with a panga (machete) and wire lock because they had no interest in the old men, only the young and able ones.  My father had pity on me whenever I was badly treated, but whenever he said anything he would be whipped beyond measure.  Since we were at the mercy of the rebels, we all petered out and the human rights and control went out the window.  The situation became worse for us staying in the bush.  We could only keep the wolf from the door for so long.  We failed to have any medicine.  We only had feelings of melting away from the bush and being back home.  But we lacked power. 
“I think I am no longer in the zone of living,” my father said to me in a cool voice one day.  But I did not understand at the time, but I got it later and after his message my tension dropped away.  This happened after one to two years of staying in the bush.  Though he told me so, but nothing happened and we had to acclimatize to the environment as we needed to forget of our memories of home.
                In approximately two to three years in the bush, we shifted from Atoo Hill in Acholi land towards Sudan in an undetermined distance.  This was due to the pressure from Uganda Peoples Defence Force.  During the journey, we the young ones, were made to carry food stuffs and the old men and women were made to carry weapons, until we settled in the forest in Sudan.  At our settlement food became a bigger problem for us to the point we started to feed on plant leaves.  It was difficult for us.  The troop leader, together with the team, decided to make a u-turn after 3 months stay in the forest to go back to Atoo Hill, in Uganda, where we had settled before.  We settled in the bush was for only short times at any point, so movement became continuous and my legs got swollen to the extent that I could move no more.  I was carried by the rebels, but I did not know their point of interest in me.
                Despite us passing over dangerous animals, for example snakes, none but God was protecting us in the bush.  Immediately after our return to Atoo Hill I was made an escort to one of the commanders called “Sam Koho”, but I was not with him full time.  Two months into my third year in the bush I was assigned to spy and do a job “by all means without failure.”
                On my return, I was not in contact with my father.  “You will see me no more,” he whispered to me one day during troop count.  I did not understand him well, but I remembered later on after he had already left with my brother.  I felt devastated, though my friends tried to comfort me and told me not to worry.  My father and brother had left me in a dilemma.  I was dazed because I had nothing to hold on to.  I wanted to escape and see my parents but I had no hope of seeing them alive again.  I could not account for the reasons as to why my father left me in the bush.  This was such a disgrace to me.  Since an escape was just like committing suicide, I remained steadfast in the absence of my parents.  The rebels could not tell whether my father was in camp or not because the civilian counts (the abducted ones) happened on the third week of every month and were changing constantly.
                Two weeks after my father and brother’s escape, I was told to start a secret mission. I was accompanied by three bush-minded men to keep an eye on me.  I had to get used to the environment and start working as a rebel.  I was forced to kill human beings in the period of my missions, but I could not abide by this.  I feared I would be killed after my failure to follow through on my instructions.  In my mission, I was told to move in various towns in Northern Uganda like Gulu, Lira, Apach, Pader, Kitgum and many others.  I was told to capture the able ones to increase the number of soldiers (rebels) during my time in action.  It was difficult and I had to do it by force.  I was also forced to go and burn one of the radio stations in Lira, which I did successfully.  Feeling positive, I took back the report on how the mission went.  My boss was so pleased with me that he gave me permission to live freely in the bush.  Even though I thought about escape I could not break the guard and trust of my new friends.
                One day I was sent to go and spy in Gulu and on my way, all of a sudden, I met a troop of government soldiers (Uganda Peoples Defense Force) in the place called “opit in Gulu district.”  When they saw me from a far, they laid an ambush along the road I used to follow.  They trapped me, questioned me, and finally I was beaten until I was in a coma.  They thought I was dead because I took 32 hours to recover.  I recovered in the police barrack.  Immediately after my recovery they bathed me, fed me and then transferred me from the police barracks to a Rehabilitation Center in Gulu.  It was called Gusco.  This happened after my third day in the barracks.
                In Gusco I was kept for three to four months.  They told me that they were refreshing my mind to be stress free and at the end of my four month stay in Gusco, they took me to the radio station called Radio Mega in Gulu to make a communication to my fellow friends in the bush to come back home.  I also communicated to my parents to come for me and after a week, I saw my brother coming to pick me up and I was so happy.
                My abduction happened when I was in Primary Two.  When I reached home I did not give up on my education.  I went on with further study from Primary Three, but sadly in Primary Five my father died because he was weak.  In Primary Seven my mother died of stress.  I became stuck because my brother was alone and could not pay for my studies.  Though I was eager about schooling I had to give up my studies after my Primary Leaving Exam.
                One year later when I was almost ready to give up completely on the hope of more schooling, a man I did not know came to me and gave me a message about an organization who was sponsoring abducted children.  I realized later that he was a Pilgrim Africa coordinator for Northern Uganda.  The time for the interview came and I met this man again while I was interviewing.  I passed the interview and Pilgrim Africa restored my hopes in 2009 by giving me sponsorship to their school, Beacon of Hope Secondary School.

                May God Bless Pilgrim Africa.

No comments:

Post a Comment