The Visit!

The homestead engulfed in cattle and chicken scent was all of a sudden filled with a breeze of fresh air as wind swiftly blew trees which danced back and forth. Young children bare feet and dirty yet happy, waved at a distance on seeing us, the visitors, as some ran to closely have a glance at these strangers particularly this young girl who almost looked like them dressed in a white dress which many wore on Sundays or on special occasions, but was almost brown in color as we slowly approached the designated location. The sight of huts strategically placed in the homestead was a spectacle to behold and the thought of sitting in one; was exciting!

This thought was cut short as soon as many women begun ululating and singing songs of jubilation on seeing us. It was the first family visit to our village in Gulu, Northern Uganda. Before settling in the homestead, we were prevented from walking past a particular distance as an old woman, who could hardly walk without the support of a stick and I later learnt was my grand mother, came out of the largest grass thatched hut holding an egg which was thrown on the ground forcefully hence breaking before our very eyes and we were all instructed to cross over it, a tradition called “ Nyono Tong ngweno” This was done to cast away evil spirits which we may have carried from our long journey. Otherwise, bad omen would spread across the homestead. Tradition had to be observed to our surprise. 

The sun set and the moon soon replaced it. The dim moon light was not enough, and as a result, my mother suggested that we all go to our huts. I was excited having longed to go into the African makeshift. As my three siblings and I ran to secure the best hut, mother called us back and whispered, “If you hear any commotion particularly the sound of soldiers or gun shots, run using the back door to the forest and do not call me or your dad. Just run for your life!”

I wasn’t scared but horrified! I could feel my heart beating through my throat as I walked to the hut I desired but now dreaded. Warmth from the crackling sound of burning coal lit by Aunt C, which burned bright, sent chills down my spine. The candle lit in the hut was not comforting at all. Even the fire flame that I once enjoyed no longer soothed me as it too was not spared by the wind. Its flames danced to the wind’s rhythm and there were times I even thought they would stop flaming and the uninvited rebels charge in. My cousin and sister,  seemed at ease as they got acquainted and spent practically the whole night story telling. My brother was too young to comprehend what was happening. 

Joseph Kony: Lord's Resistance Army Rebel Leader.

Terrified to the bone with no one to share my feelings with, I jogged down memory lane and slowly put two and two together. I remembered hearing my parents talking about a man called Joseph Kony, a spiritual rebel leader who resorted to violence on his own people after they rejected his tactic and leadership against the current government. Others claimed that  he had special powers which protected him from assailants hence it was impossible to trail and kill him since he had acquired a double portion of powers from his cousin sister Alice Lakwena who self proclaimed to have received a calling from River Nile god’s to execute holy duties and ended up as a rebel leader at large. His soldiers uneducated and untrained, raided people’s homes for food and abducted children who would then be trained into soldiers and girls were forcefully married of to the soldiers or Kony himself. As these thoughts became clearer, sleep crept in and before I knew it, I was deep asleep.