Eri bulimulamu waliyo esu esuubi.
which in English means -
To all the living there is hope. Eccl. 9:4
Suubi is how you say "hope" in Luganda. so, in essence, i live at Hope Village. this verse caught my attention when we first moved here, and it has since settled deeper and deeper into my heart. here, i am surrounded by countless testimonies of redemption and restoration, so that i can never doubt the miracle of hope. in the community around me, however, hope can seem hard to find. one day this week, i came home from an episode involving a witch doctor, a missing baby, and a shattered mother. (i know that sentence begs for an explanation, but you will have to forgive me. i'm afraid anything i write about it now would sound sensational.) i have struggled this week with feeling like "how can there be hope when there is no justice?" so, this morning, during Sunday worship, i studied the verse some more and let it burrow deeper still. i am reminding myself today that justice is coming, but hope is here now. in every situation there is hope, my friend. if you are breathing, there is hope. if your story is still being written, there is hope. it is for all the living.
if you don't feel very convinced of that, then please let me introduce you to Isaac. Isaac is a former child soldier for the LRA, and he is one of the boys Thomas wrote about in an earlier blog here. awhile back, he asked T to help him write his life story. so, for many afternoons, he would come sit in our living room and dictate while T typed. this is his story. it is long, but it is worth every minute you take to read it. please read it, and let God remind you of how unrelenting His hope is!
Odong Isaac Testimony
Childhood-
As a child, my world was only as big as my compound. I knew of my father, my uncle, and a few
other friends and relatives in my village.
I was born in the village of Kalongo in northeast Uganda. My life is full of close calls. I almost died of scurvies around age 3 but a
kind soldier shared some medicine with my mom and it saved my life. In those days, our land was being terrorized
by armed bands of men called the Karamoja. By the time I was 5 my family was using me as
a look-out by the road. It was my job to
warn everyone in the compound if I saw Karamoja coming. Once I saw them coming while my family was
cooking a meal. My parents grabbed the
pot of food and we all fled to the bush for five days. Later,
the Karamoja even beat my father and stole 100 cows from our family.
One distinct memory I have from childhood is a very sad
one. When I was about age 7, the
Karamoja came through our village and neighboring communities. They corralled all the people into one
place. Children were separated from
parents. The Karamoja then began to
interrogate and terrorize adults and children in our community to learn where they
kept cattle and livestock. I even
watched them beat some people to death.
No one could stop them because they had guns and we did not. It was a terrible week for our
community. People were beaten, stripped
naked, and tortured for several days.
Finally the Karamoja left us to bury our dead and count our losses. These years were desperate times for many
people in north-eastern Uganda. Government
soldiers were not available to protect us.
They were only used to protect cities and trading centers. Many people tried to look for a way to leave
and start their lives over. Some
traveled to Kampala, some to Gulu. But
many ended up staying or returning to their family’s land because it was too
hard to make a living if they left the village.
My family often depended on the generosity of others just to eat a meal.
I started school at age 6 and I discovered that the world was
in fact a very big place with many different kinds of people. Uganda was a very unstable place during my
school years. Soldiers could not be
trusted. Sometimes we would skip school
for a week because we feared to travel.
Sometimes we would arrive at the school building and find it empty
because others were too afraid to come. I grew up in a culture where alcohol and
drunkenness were common. I learned to
avoid my father when he was drunk. I
feared his anger. I even remember one night when my father
threatened to burn my mother to death in a moment of anger. From that time on my father was in and out of
my life. He was not faithful to my
mother. He often worked and stayed in
other villages. I went months without
seeing him. My mother took me to
Catholic church with her as a young boy.
I enjoyed going to church and behaved very well when I was there. I did not attend church enough to know the
ways of God but I knew that God was good and that I could pray to him.
Abducted-
The LRA abducted me when I was 10
years old. The year was 1997 and it was
during 2nd term of my Primary
3 school year (around July). My mom had
sent me and my sister to live with our uncle in a nearby village of Pagoo. Pagoo was about 15 kilometers from Kalongo. The children in our area had been sleeping in
the bush at night for fear of the LRA rebels.
But this particular July night we had decided to stay in our uncle’s
home with his wife and a few other children.
Our uncle was gone to another village to make a purchase. I awoke about midnight to the sight of fire
all around. The LRA had come to Pagoo
and they were burning every home. They
demanded the children to gather
outside. They forced my uncle’s wife
back inside and burned her with the home.
Many people suffered the same fate that night. Outside I found many (hundreds) of other
prisoners- mostly boys, bound to a rope in a single line. Younger boys and girls were simply told to
walk alongside the older captives because the LRA knew they would fear to run
away. Men were either severely beaten or
killed. That night I carried a sack of
maize flour for one particular soldier.
He wanted me to personally serve him by carrying his things so he tried
to hide me from the rest of the group.
He hid me long enough to spare me at least one beating that the other
children received but soon I was discovered by the commanding officer and
forced to join the other children in their labors. We walked many kilometers with no shoes and
no shirt. They took us to Sudan to a
mountain called Himotong. I often prayed
during those days that I would make it back home alive. People died of exposure, wounds, sickness,
and beatings. We mostly ate
cassava. It would be five years before I
returned to Katongo. They gave me the
name Samuel. After two years I finally
received a gun.
I did not see my sister much, maybe once
a year. She survived the ordeal but came
home with a baby girl. Children who tried
to escape were brought back to camp and murdered at the hands of other child
soldiers. Some were trampled to
death. I spent much time fighting during
my final two years. The LRA taught us to
always run towards the enemy. I know it
is the hand of God that spared my life during these times. We traveled as far as Gulu and Lira fighting
government forces. Most of my five years
with the LRA was spent in Sudan. I only
spent about one year in Uganda. During our time in Sudan we captured a group
of about 80 people from a certain village.
The LRA quickly realized that these people practiced a form of occultic
witchcraft. This was offensive to the
LRA soldiers so we marched them to a certain field some distance from our
camp. They were all blind-folded and
told to get on their knees. Then they
were systematically executed by gunshot.
This included men, women, and children.
Feb 2003 was the turning point for
me. I had been left in our camp to guard
new children who had been abducted as well as supplies. The government forces raided our camp and
everyone ran for their lives. When we
regrouped, our commanders demanded to know where our supplies and prisoners
were. We had little to show them. We had left everything behind. They beat us severely – twice. Then they
informed us that we would have to go into battle without a gun until we could
find one from a dead soldier. At that
point I determined that I was ready to go home.
Another thing that influenced my decision was some disturbing news I
received from a new prisoner. One
particular boy whom the LRA had just recently abducted was from my home
area. I began to ask him about people
and we in fact shared many acquaintances.
I asked him about my mom and he informed me she was dead. This made me want to go home. I decided that even I should die at home like
my mother- rather than die out here in the bush. So I began considering how I might
leave. I spoke with a couple other young
men about leaving but they were hesitant.
So I determined to keep the matter to myself.
My opportunity came when they sent a group of us to Kitgum to
steal some food for our camp. Fighting
had been fierce. We had been moving a
lot. The LRA soldiers were tired and
decided to send some of us younger ones out without them. We left in the evening to walk towards town
and I knew that I would not return. Once
we reached the edge of town I told the others that I would check a certain
house. That was my moment. I never looked back. I knew that they could not look for me long
because we were on the edge of town. I
traveled a little distance and slept in the bush. I was excited but still very fearful. If I met government soldiers or LRA as I
traveled alone I could be killed quickly.
For one week I traveled without eating.
I was nervous, relieved, and very anxious. Many people ran from me as they saw me
coming. I eventually hid my gun to draw
less attention to myself. The fact
remained that anyone who saw me could immediately tell that I was a soldier
from the bush. I learned to counter my
own fear by instilling fear in others.
If I approached a group of people I would simply tell them that the LRA
was coming behind me and that they had better run. At that point they would be too busy running
to give me any trouble. Once, two men
followed me and I had to pull my gun on them.
They ran when I brandished my weapon and I continued my journey. I finally reached my uncle’s home in
Kalongo. I found a young boy there that
I knew and asked him of my uncle’s whereabouts.
He brought my uncle to me and my uncle immediately began to ask about my
condition and health. I learned that my
mother was indeed dead. She had suffered from heart problems after we
were taken. I cried for my mother many
nights.
Life after the bush-
My uncle was content to leave me be but his brother reported
my presence to the local police station.
The next day a plain-clothes officer came and spoke with me. He asked me about my experience in the
bush. Then he took me to the police
station for interrogation. I was
terrified. They asked me many questions
about my movements with the LRA and where their camps and supplies were. All I could do was cry. I did not want to be part of the war
anymore. I simply did not want to talk
about those things. I couldn’t handle it
emotionally. They took me to a large
army barracks some kilometers away where they had received other boys from the
bush like myself. I was denied food,
interrogated, invited to join the army, and they even threatened my life if I
did not give them information about the LRA.
Once again, all I could do was cry.
I told them to kill me if they wanted.
I had been living on the edge of death for so long that I was tired of
running from it. Finally someone came
and instructed them to send me to a World Vision project in Lira for boys like
me. I stayed there for some months and
was treated much better. There I
received some counseling.
I returned home to my uncle. It was one year after my return that we
learned my sister was alive. She came
home from Gulu with a baby girl (fathered by an LRA soldier). The next two years proved extremely
challenging. I wanted to go to school
but now I was 5 years behind. I
completed Primary 6 and 7 during the next two years but it was a difficult
time. My uncle’s new wife did not like
me. She reminded me often that I had
been a ruthless killer in the bush. I
learned to just be silent around her and many others who despised my past. Then I learned of a school near Gulu
especially for boys like myself who had returned from the bush. It was called the School for War Affected
Children. I was glad to leave my uncle’s
home and try a new environment. At this
school I was given the chance to learn construction. I was also exposed to some church choirs. I loved listening to and singing with choirs
so much. It was also at this school that
I heard a true gospel presentation from a guest speaker. My first genuine faith in Christ happened
during this season. In 2008 some people
from Watoto began visiting our school and talking to us about Christ and Watoto
Child Care Ministries. We were invited
to join a Watoto village outside Kampala called Suubi. The conditions in our school had degenerated
and Watoto sounded like a good opportunity to me.
I spent the next three years of my life living at Suubi
village near Kampala. Suubi is home to
1000 students plus house-moms, teachers, ministers, and staff. In Watoto we lived in homes of one mum
assigned to eight students. I enrolled
in Hope Vocational School and continued to learn construction. In Watoto I learned many things about serving
God and living a life that pleases God.
We had church services, cell groups, school chapels, and life-skills
lessons to help disciple us as believers.
Suubi is a beautiful and peaceful place.
I am grateful for my time there.
Some people are curious about the changes that Christ has
made in my life. Most men my age in my
village drink much alcohol and remain angry at people who have hurt them. But being a Christian has taught me to let go of the pain in my
past. I choose not to focus on the bad
things that happened to me and my family.
I choose to focus on my future. I
want to have a strong family. I want to
bring healing and hope to other people.
I know that I am forgiven and Christ has told us to forgive those who
sin against us. Therefore, I am going to
pursue what is good with the rest of my life.
I know the pain in my past is a testimony that I can use for God’s
glory.
