My Family

My Family
Adoc, Michael, Me, Esther, and (far right) Jennifer

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Northern Uganda, and Everyone Else

Our lectures continued while we were in Kampala – it’s not all pizza and Christmas shopping, you know. Our very first lecturer on last Thursday, after we were settled, was a judge who worked for Uganda’s National Amnesty Commission, which was established in 2000 to deal with the number of citizens involved in various rebellions throughout the country (while the LRA is the most prominent, there have been several other movements in the past twenty years).

The goal of the Commission is to forgive and successfully reintegrate rebels into Ugandan society as normal, hard-working citizens. Once rebels have been captured or voluntarily return from the bush, they are given a chance to apply for amnesty, which in most cases is guaranteed. Once the former rebel has been granted amnesty, they’re given a sum of money roughly equivalent to $100, some basic tools and cookware, and then they’re sent off.

Now, ignoring the basic flaws of this plan, such as finding land and reintegration with a war-ravaged community, amnesty in and of itself is one pretty solid way of dealing with huge numbers of combatants who may have been taken in their childhood and forced to fight, or men and women who might have stayed with the LRA out of fear for themselves and their families. Amnesty protects these people from unjust prosecution, and gives them a chance to start over.

But, back to our lecturer. The judge was from western Uganda, an area that didn’t notably suffer from the LRA insurgency and also Museveni’s home region. Tribes play a big part in the way this country works. The Acholi are looked down upon in almost every other region, and have a very difficult time securing positions in the central government because of their tribe. Meanwhile, for as long as Museveni has been in power, the west has been more favored than any other region, financially, developmentally, and academically.

While the north was being ravaged my conflict, Uganda’s other regions were successful, even prosperous. When asked, they acknowledged there was conflict in the north, but it’s as though northern Uganda is a different country, rather than just a different part of Uganda. They would say, “This is the most successful we’ve been in years, this is a good time.” They are oblivious to the fact that 6 hours north, children are being abducted and whole families are being slaughtered. And if they are aware of it, so what? The Acholi are violent people. They were born to fight. What problem is it of mine?

Our lecturer seemed to follow this line of thought. I believe in amnesty as much as the next person, but I believe it has its role alongside traditional methods of justice and reconciliation as well, such as mat oput, the drinking of the bitter root, I described a few posts ago. There is another Acholi healing tradition that involves stepping on an egg, the symbol of new life, before one enters a home to purge them of all the violence they’ve committed or seen, so they could be ‘reborn’.

Our lecturer, though, didn’t seem to hold much stock by these methods of reconciliation. “What if someone came to your house, killed your mother, raped your sister?” he repeated, over and over again. “Would stepping on a silly egg be enough for you?”

No, it wouldn’t, thank you, but I’m American, and we have different cultural expectations

“Well, in America, you have the death penalty, don’t you?” he said. “How many of you don’t believe in the death penalty?”

Every single one of us raised our hands. Our lecturer, clearly not expecting that reaction, waved his hands.

“No, no. What if someone came to your house, killed your mother, raped your sister…”

And on and on it went, for an hour and a half.

It was so frustrating to see the marginalization of the north by the south right there in person, and not be able to do anything about it. Being in Kampala is so different from Gulu. The roads are better, the electricity goes out less frequently, pit latrines aren’t as common here, there are more cars on the road, there are more kids in school… I could go on forever. Its like anything above the Nile is a different country, and not of any concern to anyone is the south.

Uganda needs to become united, and tribes, a method of divide and rule reinforced and politicized by colonization, need to be reconciled with the perception of being Ugandan. When you ask someone here where they’re from, they’ll say they’re Acholi, or Lwo, or Bagandan, before they say they’re from Uganda, even if they are traveling and are asked in Tanzania or Britain or the U.S. Being Ugandan is not at the forefront of anyone’s mind. The problems of the north need to become the problems of the south, the prosperity of the south needs to be shared with the north, and the people of this country need to see themselves as Ugandan if they ever hope to prevent future conflict and become a part of the second world, or even the first.

Being in Kampala and now Rwanda has been such a treat. There’s been more western food, indoor plumbing, and lukewarm showers. But, honestly, I miss Gulu, and the Acholi. I’m pretty stoked to head back next week and get started my research.

Happy Halloween, everybody!

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