Down the Gulu-Kampala Road

Sarah just sent us a few stories from Northern Uganda. Their ability to find a reliable internet connection has been limited (surprised?), so this one is from November 7.


November 7, 2006

When RI visited Gulu in February 2006, it was too dangerous to drive to Gulu. Due to attacks by the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) who were fighting with the Uganda People’s Defense Forces (UPDF), NGOs usually flew or went in military convoys. Since the government of Uganda and LRA have begun peace talks in Juba, South Sudan, a lot has changed. My colleague, "Madame X", and I drove to Gulu from Kampala on Tuesday.

While there was a lot of initial confusion about whether or not we would have to leave at 5am (as many of you know, I’m not a morning person), we eventually decided that we would leave at 7am so we would reach a key bridge before the military convoys and get to Gulu around 1pm. It was raining and quite cool when we left Kampala and made our way through the traffic clogged rush hour listening to a local radio ‘morning show’ that specializes in calling up listeners and pretending to be in love with them and encouraging them to declare their love as well. About an hour outside of the city, the scenery changed - the sun came out, the countryside became very lush with banana trees and mango trees and occasional monkeys running up to our car as we swerved around potholes.

Our driver, Andrew (not his real name), started to tell me about his childhood in Gulu. “Sometimes, I sit with my wife and I ask her why I was born an Acholi,” he told me. “To be born an Acholi is to have nothing but problems.” He elaborated later, “My brother was abducted by the LRA when he was fourteen years old. We do not even know where he is. We believe he is dead. He is dead to us. You see – we cannot be living always in the past. We have to try to survive. My family fled to Kampala when the rebels came to fight. But it is the UPDF who gives us the problems.”

When we drove up to the outskirts of Gulu town, we began to see the immense government-controlled camps where the displaced Acholis live. While the conflict with the LRA has lasted for over 20 years, it wasn’t until about 1996 when the government of Uganda mandated that the bulk of the population had to move into these camps where they could be ‘protected’ by the UPDF. In order to protect the population, the UPDF enforced a very strict curfew, beating or killing anyone found outside the camps for suspected collaboration with the LRA. Sadly, putting everyone in the camps, allowed the LRA to attack the population with ease. Many times the camps would be attacked at night and children abducted and huts burned down.

Andrew became more visibly agitated the closer we came to the town. “See that soldier there? All he has to do is use his gun and steal someone’s bicycle. That person would have to give it to him. We have no power here in our own land.” We arrived at our guesthouse and he was anxious to leave. Have a cold drink, we offered. “No. I am not from here anymore. I want to go home to Kampala.” He said and drove off back down the Gulu-Kampala road.