Tag Archives: community

A Return to School after Decades of War: Florence Modo Tells her Story

Florence Modo poses outside of the WAN shop in her school uniform. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.

Florence Modo and Sophia Neiman worked closely together in crafting this article, with Florence providing input throughout the process, and helping to shape the structure of the piece.

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Florence Modo was born in the Eastern Region of Uganda, the second of eleven children. She was a lively baby, and in good health. Life was not easy for the family, and four of her siblings died in childhood, because hospitals were far and the roads poor.

When Florence was five years old, she became very sick. She now assumes the illness was polio, but at the time she was treated for malaria. Having not received proper medicine, Florence spent three years bedridden, unable to walk, stand or do anything for herself. Even after she regained her health, one leg remained twisted and she could not put weight on it, making it difficult to move. She fell frequently.

Despite this, when Florence was eight years old, her parents decided she must attend primary school. Every day, her father placed her on his bicycle. They rode the two miles to school together in the mornings, and he would bring her home after her lessons in the afternoon. Florence was an eager reader, and her father helped her to learn, teaching her the difficult words. “I think my father really cared about my education. He wanted me to study. He wanted me to learn,” Florence said.

The war came to their village in 1989. The Lord’s Resistance Army burnt the family home to the ground, and they lost much of their property, including her father’s bicycle. They were forced to depart to another village, 14 miles away. Rebel bombardments were constant there as well.

The family returned home again in 1996, but there was no peace. LRA attacks became increasingly frequent in 2003, when the rebels invaded their district. Her family and many others would flee during these ambushes. Since Florence could not run, she was forced to stay behind, alone.

“On many occasions my family members would take off from home, when the rebels attacked and leave me alone at home. While in their hideouts they would worry about me and always return to check on me. During such days I would hide in a bush near our home, and survived on groundnuts and water until my family returned home, which usually took two days,” Florence said.  In that time, her greatest fear was for the lives of her family members. Florence worried that they would return to check on her before it was safe to do so, and be slaughtered by rebels on the road.

It was torment. “One day I decided to leave, so that my family did not have to go through this,” she said. Florence told her mother that she was going to the market to buy a dress. Her mother, ever protective, offered to go instead, but Florence insisted on being independent. Once at the market, she sold a chicken, and used some of the money to get transport to Mbale District.

She arrived at the doorstep of a Catholic Church there, and was eventually taken in by a man who gave her meals and a place to stay and paid her to harvest sunflowers and maize. Life was uncertain. After the harvest, she found a job sorting groundnuts in town, and later worked as a cook for nuns, remaining among the sisters from 2007 until 2011.

One of the sisters, who had been transferred to Mbale, was impressed by how well Florence cooked and managed to move, despite her disability, and encouraged her apply to St. Monica Girls’ Tailoring School in Gulu District. It was still hard for Florence to write in English, so a nun penned a letter for her to copy.

Florence was accepted. Before coming to Gulu, however, Florence journeyed to her family home. They had believed her dead, and were overjoyed to find that she had survived. Still, the family had suffered greatly and Uganda remained in a precarious period. “The guns had stopped, but people were still in the [Internally Displaced Persons’] camps, trying to get back,” Florence said. “I remember my mother just prayed and thanked God I am back.”

Florence began her education at St. Monica in earnest. She learned to cut and sew fabric, and took additional classes in craft tailoring, adult literacy and agriculture. Sister Rosemary Nyirumbe sent Florence to Kampala, where she got an operation to help heal her leg. Sister Nyirumbe also paid Florence for each bag she made, allowing Florence to support her younger sister in attending school.

Florence works at her sewing machine in the WAN shop. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.

While at St. Monica, Florence met Women’s Advocacy Network Chair, Evelyn Amony.  Mrs. Amony welcomed Florence into WAN, and Florence began working in the WAN shop, saving to pay her own school fees. Friends discouraged and even mocked her, telling her she was wasting time, but Florence was determined to return to school. She noticed that because she spoke English, many people expected her to read and write for them, but she did not know how to do so properly. She was desperate to learn, so she could aid those who came to her.

Mrs. Amony offered encouragement, telling Florence to registrar to study, and even buying her school uniform. Florence also received support from two University of Oklahoma instructors she met at St. Monica, called Professor Lunpe and Professor Sally.  In July of 2018, Florence enrolled in Holy Rosary Primary School, Primary Seven. Florence began school in the second term, and Professor Lunpe paid Florence’s school fees for that term, allowing Florence to put her savings from the WAN shop towards the third term.

The head teacher was skeptical upon seeing Florence, and wondered how she might fare in a classroom of children. She told him, “Sir I can study amidst the babies.” He was convinced and brought her to meet the class.

So, Florence began primary school again, sitting in the back of the room. The Social Studies teacher was particularly welcoming and encouraged the students to help Florence and teach her all she had missed in the first term. Help her they did. The children often gathered around Florence’s desk, guided her hand when she struggled to hold a pen properly, and taught her to form certain letters. “One of the children came to me and said to me, you see Florence, when we are writing we have what we call sky letters and we have ground letters,” she explained.  Sky letters go above the line on the paper, while ground letters reach below it.

The school is closed for the holidays now, but Florence is hopeful that she will pass her exams and return again next term. She remains close with the children, who are eager to greet her and even visit her at the WAN Shop. “We are really best friends,” she said.

She is now able to help her friends as she first intended; reading and writing messages for them. Florence is eager to continue learning in order to create a better world. “If I manage to study well, I can help the community,” Florence said. She is particularly passionate about issues of soil erosion due to over-grazing, which she learned about in school, in her home village. “Nobody can speak for those who are remaining in my village, who don’t know anything about these issues,” she said.  Florence asserts that many people in her village depend upon the land, so doing harm to the environment will have terrible repercussions. “If people don’t protect the environment it is really very dangerous,” she said. She hopes to use her newfound knowledge to be a voice for the voiceless in her community, certain her education is crucial not just for herself, but also for others.

Beads on display in the WAN Shop. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.

For now, Florence continues to work hard. When not in school, she runs the WAN shop each day and even sleeps in an attached room. Despite the challenges in her life, Florence is optimistic. “I thank God that he has given me life. Disability is not inability” Florence said. “I have arms. I must work. I must try to handle it like any other person.”

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You can find beautiful handmade products including dolls, skirts, bags and paper beads at the Women’s Advocacy Network Shop, located on Acholi Lane next to Makome Guest House. All of the proceeds benefit war affected women like Florence, allowing them to meet basic needs, and create new opportunities.

WAN Products and other stunning designs by Ugandan, female artisans can also be found at Lamaro Studio located in Gulu Crystal Hotel on Acholi Road.

This holiday season consider buying gifts at these locations. A simple purchase can have a tremendous impact on someone’s life.

 

 

 

Community Theatre Gives a Powerful Platform to Survivors of Conflict

Community members gather to watch a theatre program in Nomakora. They share snacks and soda. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.
Community members gather to watch a theatre program in Nomakora. They share snacks and soda. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.

The journey to Nomakora sub-county is difficult. One must first drive from Gulu towards Kitgum and from Kitgum veer off tarmac and on to red dirt roads. Rains have not come this year, and the dust seems to predict another sort of storm. Vehicles kick up enough of it to obscure everything. Dust leaves a fine film on the skin. It comes into the nose. It makes lungs feel dirty.

Justice and Reconciliation Project staff traveled to Nomakora last week, in order facilitate a community outreach program. Women’s Advocacy Network group members designed a theatre piece in order to teach their neighbors about the horrors of abduction and life in the bush. The goal was to reduce stigma within the community, by showing both the difficulty of the past and the promise of future reconciliation. The program also helps to empower women previously silenced, and gives them a powerful platform and voice.  JRP has a history of facilitating similar community theatre programs, with great success.

The afternoon sun blazed and women sat in the shade, away from the dusty road. They made props, weaving tiny AK47s from stiff grass. Children picked at the false weapons, eager for new toys. Babies nursed. A DJ arrived to set up a sound system for the program, and community leaders and other villagers arrived as well, settling into wooden chairs or simply sitting on the ground.

Before the play came a prayer for those still in the grip of the Lord’s Resistance Army. According to the LRA Crisis Tracker, sponsored and created by Invisible Children, the rebels have been active in the Central African Republic and Democratic Republic of Congo as recently as September of this year, with an attack near Yalinga, DRC. A number of children remain in captivity.

This prayer complete, a woman named Evelyn asked the community for peace. Her voice soft and earnest she said, “If you have killed everyone, who will help us? Who will be the next generation?”

The drama itself began with a portrait of daily life in the shadow of violence. Children supposed to help their mother cook begged to play outside instead. Then, without warning, they were snatched from their homes and taken to the bush. The actors mimed beatings and battles and being forced to carry guns and heavy loads.

It was not difficult to image the same scene playing out here and nearby, in the surrounding villages, and along the porous parts of maps. It was not difficult to imagine also those traumas not portrayed; to imagine the forced marriage of young girls, offered up like objects to senior commanders.

WAN group members reencact scenes of LRA captivity. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.
WAN group members reencact scenes of LRA captivity. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.

At last, the story came to its cautiously hopeful conclusion. Those children once supposed to help cook, returned home and to their mother. She cried out in joy and gripped them to her, but the children were too tired to speak about their experiences. “Let us rest,” they said. Family reunions were haunted by other ghosts.

While it ended with a reunion, the play made clear that a new set of challenges lay ahead. The formerly abducted face daily discrimination. Unable to finish school, they lack job skills, making it difficult to support themselves and their families. Many are victims of domestic abuse.

One woman, identified as Jennifer, spoke directly about this violence.  The program had ended and the sun was setting fiercely. We had stepped away from the crowd. Jennifer said, “Whenever [our husbands] go on a drinking spree they take that opportunity to insult us, stigmatize us and abuse us.” Her comments implied alcoholism and a lack of security, even within the home.

The war is over in Uganda, but many obstacles remain.

Counselor Five Nomakora Sub-County , Kenneth Nyero, speaks about the need to create more programs for survivors of conflict. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.
Counselor Five Nomakora Sub-County , Kenneth Nyero, speaks about the need to create more programs for survivors of conflict. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.

As a result of the drama, local and cultural leaders and community members have become increasingly aware of the hurdles returnees must surmount. District officials are eager to ameliorate the situation. Following the drama, many made passionate speeches.

Counselor Five Nomakora Sub-County, Kenneth Nyero, seemed particularly eager to aid the formerly abducted. He was deeply moved by the program. Following his speech, we talked in more depth. The DJ had begun to play by then, and music echoed over the conversation.

Mr. Nyero hopes that the government and non-profit organizations can form long term partnerships in order to support vulnerable people, and specifically those returned from captivity. “We will work together as a team supporting humanity,” he said. “We have to support the ones who have come from the bush . . . the government does not have a specific program targeting [returnees]. If possible, there is need to design a specific program that will target these groups.”

Community members were also touched by the program. An older woman, called Anette, claimed that piece truly showed what happened in Namokora.  Her tone implied memories awakened and a sense of watching history on repeat.  Her daughter was abducted during the insurgency, but has now returned, even serving as secretary for the WAN group in Namokora.

Anette spoke little about her own experiences and past, focusing instead on the future. During the play she observed community members crying, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. She hopes this is a sign of change to come. “There is going to be great impact for those who have the feelings,” she said.

The drama and speeches complete, Namokora returned to its normal rhythms. Children turned summersaults in the grass. Others rushed back down the road with yellow water jugs, trying to reach home before dark. The chairs were brought back. Women took advantage of the DJ and danced wildly.

Life went on.

Community members in Namokora dance, while a DJ plays. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.
Community members in Namokora dance, while a DJ plays. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.

The drama program in Nomakora is a microcosm; one aspect of a much larger  initative. Following, JRP staff visited Lapono and Adjumani, where community theatre performances also took place. Women in Lapono shared stories of alcoholism and domestic abuse, presenting possible situations for redress through continued dialogue and active leadership. Performers in Adjumani reenacted battles, while leaders called for more services, overwhelmed by the ongoing transitional justice process and South Sudanese refugee crisis simultaneously. Meanwhile, women in Soroti staged a radio program about stigmatization.

Community members in Adjumani portray scenes of conflict. Photo credit, Sophia Neiman.
Community members in Adjumani portray scenes of conflict. Photo credit, Sophia Neiman.

According to Community Development Officer Lapono Sub-County, Bena Sarah Ongom, there is profound desire to share these dramas more widely, in order to increase their impact. “Clearly the play is based on a true picture of the community. Whatever challenges they gave in the role play, is the actual truth on the ground. I think from the good practices they picked from the drama they can be in position to improve, especially against gender based violence and how they can overcome it. We advise that this kind of play should be expanded to most of the parishes,” she said.

Community dramas speak to the fortitude of returnees and to the strength it takes to rise up and teach others, no matter how exhausting or difficult the task. They speak to the capacity for learning and forgiveness, and to the possibility of complete reconciliation within the community. They also speak to the vast scale of the problem and to the clear need for continued support; for more support. Many returnees have not been able to form non-profit supported groups, and so cannot take part in programs such as these. Thus, the performers represent a fraction of the voices and stories within the northern region.

JRP will remain invested in these communities through community theatre programs and other means, and continue to amplify marginalized voices and foster reconciliation. Information gathered will also aid the development of a best practices guide of other non-profits working with survivors of sexual and gender-based violence, ultimately expanding JRP’s reach.

Women in Namokora carry chairs used in the community theatre program back home. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.
Women in Namokora carry chairs used in the community theatre program back home. Photo Credit, Sophia Neiman.

International Criminal Court Presents Community Screenings of the Ongwen Trial

The trial of former LRA Commander Dominic Ongwen resumed on Tuesday, September 18, at the International Criminal Court in The Hague, with an opening statement from the defense. Miles and miles away, Ugandans gathered around televisions and hunched over radios, following each detail of the proceedings. Many attended screening events organized by the ICC itself. The court endeavored to make the trial accessible to those people whose lives were torn apart by conflict. The Justice and Reconciliation Project hosted one such screening in the organization offices at Koro-Pida.

Some one hundred participants arrived by bus from various locations. They crammed together on white, plastic chairs. Mothers brought small children, who sat in their laps or played on the floor. The screening was near silent. Attendees only spoke during the breaks, when they shared snacks and soda, or relaxed in a courtyard.

The ICC strove to create an open space, where the community could truly engage with the trial, however distant. Eric MP Odong, a field assistant, said, “We are here to execute the mandate of the registry of the court, and to serve the victim community.”

The screening at JRP was not the first of its kind nor was it the only event in the area. Another screening, this one at Gulu District Hall, was so packed that people spilled on to the ground outside. Engagement in the case is high. “We are responding to the interest and the demand of communities, who want to follow the trial,” said Jimmy Otim, another field assistant. In fact, the ICC has organized screening events since Ongwen’s trial began two years ago. Court representatives travel to areas with little electricity and bad roads in order to disseminate information.

Many of these locations were the sight of LRA attacks. Emotions run high and memories of war are fresh. “My better half of my life is the conflict,” said Otim. “That is why I studied conflict, to understand why people suffer.” His work is personal. Otim also vividly remembers trial screenings at which community members corroborated the information on screen, pointing to places where violence occurred. As a result, counselors and facilitators are always present.

community members watch the Dominic Ongwen defnese at the JRP offices in Koro-Pida. Photo credit, Sophia Neiman
Community members watch the Dominic Ongwen defnese at the JRP offices in Koro-Pida. Photo credit, Sophia Neiman.

Responses to these screenings have been overwhelmingly positive. According to Otim, “[The community] is happy that what happened to them is being heard in an independent court, they are happy that what happened to them is being recognized. They are happy that maybe, ultimately, they’ll get justice.”

Odong agrees. “I see justice being done,” he said. “The prosecution did its part and now it is the defense’s turn. I see justice by allowing different parties to express themselves.” Odong claims he will be satisfied regardless of the outcome. “The process of the trial will have cleansed the accused, even if he is set free,” he said.

The trial culminates a longer hunt for Ongwen and his fellow rebels. More than eleven years ago, the ICC issued a warrant for his arrest, along with warrants for Vincent Otti and enigmatic leader Joseph Kony.  In 2014, Ongwen was captured along the border between South Sudan and the Central African Republic, and turned over to the court. His is a painful saga, and one that contains the complex history of the conflict itself.

Ongwen was abducted by the LRA when he was nine years old. He was walking to primary school near Gulu. Like many other young boys, he was forced to watch and later commit heinous acts, and was brutally inducted into the army. Unlike many, however, Ongwen ascended the ranks. He reached the LRA control alter and came to command the notorious Sinia Brigade. This wing of the LRA attacked internally displaced person’s camps, specifically Abok, Odek, Lukodi and Pajule. Ongwen himself is charged with 70 counts of war crimes and crimes against humanity, including abducting children to use as soldiers and sex slaves.

Thus, Ongwen can be cast as both victim and perpetrator; a man whose life was altered by the conflict, and a man who altered the lives of others. He is also the first and lowest ranking member of the LRA to be tried internationally. Kony is still at large. Otti is presumed dead.

Seeing such a man stand trial can be divisive and upsetting. Some want him in jail, punished for years of havoc, while others believe he was boy brainwashed, and so deserves amnesty. Many community members are former abductees themselves, and do not understand why they have been forgiven and Ongwen has not.

Andrew Simbo has worked in transitional justice in both Uganda and Sierra Leone. He is currently the executive director of Uganda Women’s Action Program. The organization helps to bring more women and children to the ICC screenings. He claims that communities have now become fully reintegrated, “Those who actually carried out the atrocities are in the communities now. They have been given amnesty. They are the boda boda riders; some are musicians. They are there. They have been integrated into the community,” He added, passionately, “people have moved on.” While UWAP remains a neutral body, Simbo asserts it can be difficult to explain the mere fact of Ongwen’s charges to community members.

Justin Ocan, a community representative from Lukodi, believes that the screenings themselves will lead to a better future. “We tell these populations that this is also a learning environment, because we need to learn this time, so that you transfer the knowledge you gained from this screening to your children, so that in the future they don’t engage themselves in such kinds of practices,” he said.

Regardless of what the court decides, or even of divided opinions, one thing is certain. Sharing information, and making that information accessible, is crucial. It brings people together. It binds them in knowledge and informed conversation. It cements community. Justice itself is a long and twisting process, and its outcomes can never be universally satisfying. Yet, Ocan puts it beautifully, if simply: “Justice is a collective effort to attain a peaceful life.”

As the trial continues, people of many different opinions, can come together and watch it unfold.