Not many words to this blog; and just three photos.
Each photo shows a place in Gulu where teenagers or 'night commuters' went to seek safety and refuge from the threat of abductions and killings that hung over all the rural areas in northern Uganda for over 20 years.
Yes, that is correct - 20 years. From the mid 1980's until 2006, the Lords Resistance Army killed, maimed, tortured and abducted. A whole generation of young people lived with the fear of being taken and turned into a child soldier.
And the worst place to be at night was in the countryside, so they went to the towns, every night, to seek sanctuary.
Some of the places were safer than others, and at each place the safest position was in the middle, so you had the protection of others around you.
Thousands of young people filled the streets of Gulu and Kitgum, the two larger towns, each night - packing out the recognised centres for these 'night commuters' and then spilling over onto verandahs and porches - just trying to find places to sleep with others, and so reduce the vulnerability of being alone and easy picking.
Listening to the stories of some of those I've been with in Gulu these past few days, I am reminded of stories told by those who survived the Rwandan genocide. The horrors and atrocities are in some ways similar, and yet there are differences -
Rwanda was 100 days and most of the world has heard about it.
Northern Uganda was 20 years and very little of the world has heard about it.
I'm not wanting to demean Rwanda in any way - that was absolutely awful and it is right that the world should take note and learn from it, as well as recognise where we failed them.
But why is the suffering in Northern Uganda not more recognised at an international level? Why is there not more help being offered?
As I walked through Gulu this morning, my final morning before returning to Kampala, I reflected on the fact that everyone in that town, and in the area generally over the age of 10 has had a personal experience of the LRA war. That means that every child of secondary school age and every adult has inside them some level of trauma that they are trying to learn to live with, process, work through, rise above.
Thank goodness for the likes of ILA who are helping to bring hope into those lives. And thank you Lord that I have had the honour of being able to join them on that journey - may it be a journey that we travel together for many a year to come.
Each photo shows a place in Gulu where teenagers or 'night commuters' went to seek safety and refuge from the threat of abductions and killings that hung over all the rural areas in northern Uganda for over 20 years.
Yes, that is correct - 20 years. From the mid 1980's until 2006, the Lords Resistance Army killed, maimed, tortured and abducted. A whole generation of young people lived with the fear of being taken and turned into a child soldier.
And the worst place to be at night was in the countryside, so they went to the towns, every night, to seek sanctuary.
Some of the places were safer than others, and at each place the safest position was in the middle, so you had the protection of others around you.
Thousands of young people filled the streets of Gulu and Kitgum, the two larger towns, each night - packing out the recognised centres for these 'night commuters' and then spilling over onto verandahs and porches - just trying to find places to sleep with others, and so reduce the vulnerability of being alone and easy picking.
Listening to the stories of some of those I've been with in Gulu these past few days, I am reminded of stories told by those who survived the Rwandan genocide. The horrors and atrocities are in some ways similar, and yet there are differences -
Rwanda was 100 days and most of the world has heard about it.
Northern Uganda was 20 years and very little of the world has heard about it.
I'm not wanting to demean Rwanda in any way - that was absolutely awful and it is right that the world should take note and learn from it, as well as recognise where we failed them.
But why is the suffering in Northern Uganda not more recognised at an international level? Why is there not more help being offered?
As I walked through Gulu this morning, my final morning before returning to Kampala, I reflected on the fact that everyone in that town, and in the area generally over the age of 10 has had a personal experience of the LRA war. That means that every child of secondary school age and every adult has inside them some level of trauma that they are trying to learn to live with, process, work through, rise above.
Thank goodness for the likes of ILA who are helping to bring hope into those lives. And thank you Lord that I have had the honour of being able to join them on that journey - may it be a journey that we travel together for many a year to come.
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