Is Peace Coming to Northern Uganda? (July 5th)

I must admit I was a little tense when we started the drive to Gulu in northern Uganda yesterday. Having been gone a while, I am completely out of date with the security situation and the Kampala-Gulu road has experienced a number of ambushes in its time. After being assured the road had been completely safe since I left, we set off – myself, Jolly, Mummy, Daddy, Adong, Achen and Opio in a 5 seater sedan.

The journey took an interesting start when we stopped at the bank in town and a “crazy man” started abusing us. He was yelling, “All Acholis are rebels! You are all killers!” etc, etc (Acholi is the tribe from the north where “my family” are from). Mummy, Daddy and Jolly, three of the most stoic people I know, just ignored him. But I was a little shaken. Jolly explained to me that “this is how people down here (in the capital) think. It’s only because this man is mentally disturbed that he is brave enough to say anything”.

Then, about an hour or two out of Kampala, while passing through a small town, we noticed a lot of people had gathered on the roadside and were watching a commotion that was happening ahead. As we got closer, we noticed 2 packs of police, with guns out, storming into two different shops – obviously looking for someone. It was really scary to drive through, and unfortunately it was an area of a lot of speedbumps and potholes so we couldn’t get through quickly. Just before we left the commotion, I noticed a big fire. It was a human burning. According to a tiny article in the paper, a mob had lynched a suspected murderer. Thankfully I couldn’t see the body but as you can imagine, it was more than a little unnerving.

In my past trips to northern Uganda, in 2003 and 2004, crossing the Nile at Karuma Falls was always the place where my heart would enter my mouth, as the road block and heavy army presence would signify that we were entering the “war zone” and were now in the conflict area. This time, we crossed the Nile without a roadblock in sight, a huge sign that changes had occurred since I was last here. “See!” I was told. “I told you northern Uganda is much more peaceful now”.

I was so glad to arrive back in Gulu. My past experiences in Gulu stripped away many of my naiveties and it was here that I first heard gunshots, first met children who had been child soldiers and brainwashed to be killers, where I first experienced the phenomena of night commuters – thousands of children streaming into the city centre to sleep each night in order to avoid abduction, and where I heard countless personal stories of rape, mutilation and massacre. But it is also the place where I first lived in a village, carried water in a jerry can on my head, learned to dance traditional dances, bathed under the stars in a small mud square and slept under a grass thatched roof in a mud hut. And it is here that I gained my Ugandan family.

It was dark when we arrived in the village and so it was hard for me to identify the children as they came to greet me, especially since many of them had grown a lot. It was lovely to see them all and although the village has changed a lot, it somehow felt like a homecoming. Unfortunately for me though, there are now so many children staying with Mummy and Daddy that there is no longer room for me to stay with them. I think I counted 18 children – about 5 of whom are grandchildren, 8 are nieces/nephews and 5 are children who are not related, that they have taken in. All of these children have been orphaned because of the war – either their parents were killed by the rebels or were victims of HIV/AIDS.

When we drove into town last night, I braced myself for the images which first greeted me on my first night in Gulu in August 2003. On that night, the streets were lined with children flocking into town, children were sleeping on the verandahs and in schools, and were crammed under any available light in order to do their homework. Although during my visits in 2004, the children had been moved off the verandahs and into shelters, a number of times I was there, the shelters were too full and children were again outside, many without blankets. I could never get used to those images – children walking for hours by themselves, sleeping on the floor and returning to their villages each morning – just to stay alive.

Last night, however, I experienced a very different scene. Although there were some unaccompanied children hanging around, the number was about 1% of what I remember. And people were moving both ways – towards town and away – into their villages. And there was music and discos happening. I couldn’t contain my surprise and excitement. Was I witnessing peace?

True peace, is of course, not yet here. The neighbouring district of Pader is still experiencing attacks by the rebels. And a peace agreement has not yet been reached. But fresh talks are (hopefully) about to start in southern Sudan between the LRA rebels and the Ugandan government. Personally, my hopes are high that the war will end soon. But they have been high before. And there is still a large debate about whether Kony (the leader of the LRA) will be given Amnesty or if his warrant under the International Criminal Court will be upheld. I can only hope that the steps towards peace will progress.
20 years of conflict is long enough.