HOMETeaching Peace from Tales of the City: Peace Education through the Memoryscapes of Nagasaki Patporn Phoothong
Reflections of Refugees in Africa Wyclife Ong'eta Mose
Freedom of Expression Under Threat in Zambia Mariateresa Garrido
Women’s Political Representation in Sri Lanka: Leading towards Prosperity or Peril Pujika Rathnayake
The political Crisis of the 2017 Honduran Election Daniel Bagheri S.
Notes On A Controversy Amardo Rodriguez
RECENT ARTICLES The Unraveled and Disquieting Human Rights Violation of Afghanistan Priya Pandey
Nepal's recovery process since the 2015 earthquake Jini Agrawal
Challenges and prospects of AU to implement the Ezulwini Consensus: The case of collective security and the use of force Tunamsifu Shirambere Philippe
The Right to Food Shant Melkonian
Land of the Golden Pagodas: Checking in on Myanmar’s Peace Process Monica Paniagua
Douglas Janoff on LGBTQIA Human Rights Luciana Téllez
Common Things: Communication, Community, Communal Peacebuilding Lina Patricia Forero Martínez
Periodismo Ciudadano e Internet Gina Paola Parra
Water Security in the Sixaola River Basin Adrián Martinez Blanco and Diana Ubico Durán
Reborn Arunima Chouguley
An Open Letter to the American People: Political Responsibility in the Nuclear Age Richard Falk, David Krieger, and Robert Laney
Last Updated: 02/23/2005Now We Pain and Groan
Catherine A. Onekalit
Uganda, alternately beautiful and gruesome, continues to be at war. Is there hope for the future? A personal reflection.
The days so picturesque, the nights even
better with the moon always out, a rare occurrence of African nights. Its
reflection so stunning and provoking sending shivers to the heart. The morning
wind, cold but teasingly erotic, you would hear its whisper and see it flirt
with the soils and fallen leaves, so amazing. I remember everyday we awoke to
this weather, during the cool hours of dawn. The men and women went to till
their fields, children walked to school with exercise books in hand. Indeed,
year in year out we brought glory not only to our homeland (Acholiland) but our
Today we pain, and groan. Pierced in the mind, shaken with fear, numb. Our faces straight and eyes blank and devoid of emotion. Living in a world too gruesome for anyone to imagine, yet we must endure. We try to remain human in inhuman circumstances. We hear the rebel commander is cleansing the Acholi so that only pure ones remain. Once captured, a tear tantamount to 50 stokes of cane, which is almost unbearable, and the beatings are done with vehemence. The abductions and their aftermaths have spread like wild fire, Lira, Apac, Soroti, Katakwi, Adjumani, Moyo, Arua, children being initiated into active combat, in the most horrific blood thirsty rituals, but still, many say, yes many say, it is a northern war, let them slaughter themselves.
We laugh not from happiness but because such utterances cause excruciating ache. We are always on the look-out for any visible emotions, searching for a human race to identify with that will help end this anguish, so that, as if by an invisible hand, this curtain of pain would be pulled away. Reality stares back at us, in the face. We remember, They said it is our war, we must persevere. For how long is always the question.
We think M7 has forgotten us, he is our president but does he really care? We have never gotten an answer to this question, but many have suspicions. It is no secret that his option is the military way. Why, we wonder, is this a solution? Or is the so cleansing madness being practiced