Blog Updates /

I am inching towards the end of A State of Blood by Henry Kyemba. It’s a must read if one is to truly grasp how a society can be completely dismantled by one man. I must admire the Kampala-dwellers and Ugandans who survived Idi Amin’s regime of terror. He truly destroyed every sector of a previously quite functional and capable Uganda. The damage he did to the economy and normal working order is startling. Kyemba was both a part of Obote and Amin’s governments. His insight is invaluable.

I went back to Gulu this week for a few days. It’s been about a year since I left. Little has changed and things seem quite peaceful. The streets are busy during the day, the bars during the evening. Just as it was last year. I suppose S. might of been surprised by all the activity in Gulu Town, but since 2006, the ‘war’ was no longer an immediate threat. At least not like before.

The first afternoon, we took a boda-boda deep into the bush looking for an ex-LRA combatant farm, run by the UPDF. The labora (no ideas what that means) farm is still running, but the UPDF auxiliary soldiers hanging out in the small village on the way in were less than helpful. English limited and their commander absent. Regardless, it was wonderful riding a motorcycle through the tall stalks of elephant grass with the driver pointing out cassava, beans and sweet potato plantations. Long gone the dirt of Kampala.

The following day I chased down the staff of Battery Operated Systems for Community Outreach (BOSCO). In the morning it rained for over three hours, so the roads were mud and slush. The boda-boda kept slipping out. The driver took several random short cuts through little villages of round mud huts, children screaming in our wake.

The NGO is based at the Gulu Archdiocese. We passed one of the most beautiful churches I have ever seen (especially in Uganda). It was built by Italian missionaries a long time ago. Out in the bush. The Gulu Archdiocese is another beautiful building sitting on a massive green property.

BOSCO is providing wireless internet and free internet phones (to call anywhere in the world for free) to seven Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camps. Solar powered computers and internet in the poorest region of Uganda. I’m writing an article up on this, so more information is forthcoming, hopefully in a published version.

The last full-day in Gulu. Spent a majority of it with a Ugandan artist called Fred Mutebi. It’s rare to find talented people interested in the “arts” in Uganda, so I was quite honored to have stumbled across him through TMS Ruge. Fred’s mission is phenomenal.

He’s helping children paint their school murals with images and words (all in Luo, the local dialect) on HIV. He wants to make transcripts of the words and images they use and distribute the final product amongst rural communities as a form of HIV awareness and education. The goal is to bring together parents, children and other community members over one common issue – HIV – and suggest a method of tackling the disease that’s not ‘imposed’ by foreigners or the Southern Ugandan government.In other words, developing a battle against HIV that’s understood by the majority.
 
He also suggested founding a museum in Northern Uganda – a long term goal – to honor those who suffered or died during the 22-year-long war. He tells me he imagines a room filled with sculptures of those who died during the war, sculpted by the children abducted by the LRA and forced to kill and fight. Fred’s goal is to help youth use art as a means of coping. He also wants them to understand the meaning and significance of art. Once again, rare is it in Uganda that people are interested in “arts” – or have a solid understanding of how art can be used in social activism.

Lastly, while Northern Uganda seems far from a “war” region now (i.e. no obvious signs of the rebels), the effects of war are obvious. The population is scarred by the atrocities committed over the past two decades, particularly the children and ex-abductees. Psychological relief and help is of paramount importance. I would urge anyone in psychology or related disciplines (including art therapy) to approach relevant NGOs in the North and offer your services. I can always help with making the first contact.

I also spent 24 hours in Apac town in Apac district, just south of Gulu. Even more desolate than Gulu district. We drove through swamps, past miles of uninterrupted fields of elephant grass and plantations. The occasional little village with a swarm of children playing or the usual men sitting under the communal mango tree.

In Apac, we wondered around the small dusty town until we stumbled on a circle of politicians and other elite. We sat down to drink the traditional liquor: a big bucket filled with hot water and fermented maize and millet. Foul, but the ritual was pleasant. Stooped older men, one woman, and a few younger boys – shy – drinking from the same bucket with long wooden straws.

We then ran into the former LC5 chairman (important politician on district level) and chatted about the war and Obote. We also showed him the book Aboke Girls (a must-read), a story about schoolgirls abducted by the Lord’s Resistance Army in Northern Apac. Everyone we were sitting with at the run-down bar had heard of the girls (some knew the parents and girls personally) and the book. None had ever seen the book. I’m hoping to shame Els de Temmerman, the Dutch editor-in-chief of the Ugandan government-funded newspaper, the New Vision,