Over the past two decades, conflict between the government and the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) forced millions of people from their homes into camps or neighboring countries. As you may well know, tens of thousands of young children were abducted as child soldiers, many were forced to watch as their parents and other family members were shot, burned or maimed, and many ended up living on the street or in the bush trying their best just to survive. The LRA conducted a horrible and unimaginable war, one that included a great deal of mutilation and so much murder.
Recent talks between the two sides and a formal cessation of fighting have made peace a distinct possibility. Though there are still landmines in the area, it a relatively safe place to visit now. People have begun to go back to their homes from the IDP camps, but far too many are deterred from doing so because of the danger of the mines and the fact that others have taken over their property.
Three of us, along with Rose Mary, director of St. Mary Kevin Orphanage, and Jonathan, our driver, made the rough trip north to Gulu with two girls from the orphanage in tow. Sandee and Lillian have their own story, though, sadly, it is not unlike so many others we heard. Our goal was to reunite them with their mother, who they had not seen for four years since being plucked to go to the safe haven of St. Mary Kevin’s. Their mother still lives in a Internally Displaced Person’s camp (IDP) and has her share of emotional and physical problems. We wanted the girls to be able to see their mom and other family members and friends while they are on holiday from school in Kajjansi. We were also hoping to be able to bring a child from the IDP camp to St. Mary Kevin’s so that at least one more young person could have a shot at being safe, fed, educated and loved.
Here is Sandee and LIillian’s story, a snapshot of Lynne, Carol and me in Gulu town and some of the photographs I made in town before we headed out to the IDP camp:
"THE STORY ABOUT OUR FAMILY
One evening, our father went to town to buy food for the family, and on his way back, he found a group of men who ordered him to stop and he was ordered to lie down flat so that he is slaughtered. He resisted but to no avail. At this time the rebels ordered a small boy to cut him into pieces using a panga. As the boy started my dad screamed and started running for his life but could not make it as he was shot dead. After shooting him they cut him into pieces, gorged his eyes out and also cut his tongue and private parts, and burnt the rest of the pieces with petrol.
At the same time, the rebels started to burn houses in the village and people started to run out of their homes. As the alarm went on, our mother woke us up and told us to run and hide in the bushes, where we spent a night.
The next morning, our mother saw a certain man coming from another place and when she told him the whole story, he just run away and left the place. Eventually she told us to run into a big bush, where we found very many people (old and young) children covered with leaves, grass and reeds.
Meanwhile, a man who escaped and hid in a near by bush saw all that was happening, then he came and told our mother about the torture and death of dad. Along with many others, he was killed and the dead bodies were piled up. When our mother started to cry, we also realized that our dad was gone. Together with our elder sister and another man, our mother went and brought the remaining pieces and buried them, there in the bush.
As we were tracing our way back home, we came across a bore hole where many people were laid dead and the dogs eating them up. As we proceeded, we found another group of rebels crossing the road. So we run up to Gulu town where we found our uncle’s wife and we went with her to her home where she made us sleep with goats in their house. Our mother would move about in the neighborhood looking for food so that we may survive. Eventually she started cutting stones for a source of income and the money she earned was for buying us food. But our uncle’s wife would warn us to eat little food so that we do not dificate in the house. So our life was terrible.
Then our mother told us to go to Internally Displaced People’s Camps (IDPC) where life was very expensive. Education in the camps was partly free but we had to buy books, which money my mother would not afford, so there was no progress.
It is until one of our cousin brothers proposed to take us to another place where something better could be tried, that we came to St. Mary Kevin Orphanage Home, where we have so far spent four years."
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