Reflections on Transitional Justice in Northern Uganda
We set out for Atiak town from Gulu city on a Thursday morning. The research team on Transitional Justice (TJ), from Gulu University, includes Otto Ben Adol, Agatha Alidri, Francis Atube and me.
Our mission is to elicit community narratives on the reparation process in northern Uganda, documenting what their expectations and needs are. The purpose of the study is to contribute to the TJ policy by highlighting community voices that are clearly lacking.
As we drive along the great Juba Road, I see and reflect on the booming trading centres like Pabbo and those that have failed to take off such as Parabongo.
Young men are sitting idle by the tarmac watching trucks and trailers pass by. I see women selling pumpkins and beckoning us to buy. A lot of
charcoal, in sacks, has been lined along the road for sale. The land is vast, green and visibly productive, yet the people remain fundamentally poor.
We get to Ker Kwaro Atiak, a traditional or cultural center of the Acholi people. It is well-constructed and has a serene environment. We find an eager audience of both men and women. As a feminist researcher, I immediately contest the sitting arrangement which carries some gender biases. I quickly propose reorganization and this is accepted.
We start the conversation by eliciting narratives from the victims about the Atiak massacre. The ordeal started at 6am on the fateful day of April 20, 1995. People first heard gunshots. What happened next was one of the most talked about killings of innocent civilians in northern Uganda during the LRA conflict.
A number of the participants are ready to narrate their ordeals which included abduction, separation, and killing of their children, spouses and relatives. Some of them watched silently, pretending to be dead as a survival mechanism. They would later crawl away from dead bodies.
Two victims show us their scars and attest to the fact that they are still living with bullets in their bodies.
Shops full of merchandise were burnt and many students from Atiak Technical School were brutally murdered, they tell us.
“I run from my house when I heard the shooting. I was badly bruised by thorns. Those who came back said the rebels had killed everyone. My wife was taken with my child. She only survived because she had a child. She told me they separated mothers with children and pregnant women from the lot. The rest were killed while they looked on,” one survivor tells us.
Two hundred fifty six people were killed in the Atiak attack, 15 were killed enroute with the rebels and 32 in the Pachilo incident, bringing the total to 303.
They wondered why they were “forgotten’’ despite the talk about transitional justice, compensation and reparation. Atiak was never mentioned yet it was the first massacre in the Acholi region.
“Give us livestock. The men will drink the money”: Gendered experiences of reparations in northern Uganda, the case of Lukodi.
“It happened between 5pm and 6pm on May 19, 2004. We heard a whistle. The camp was surrounded. They started shooting, killing, and burning houses. It stopped at about 7pm. A lot of damage had been done by that time. They left many people dead. Forty five were killed here and another 27 died in the bush. When the LRA left the national army came and we started burying the dead,” narrates a survivor
The communities in Lukodi have substantially interacted with the International Criminal Court Outreach team and have some ideas about reparation and compensation. They are aware that it was Dominic Ongwen who led the attack on Lukodi camp.
Many say that they had previously not received any support from non-governmental organisations but remember that after the incident, they were taken to an open space in Gulu, called ‘bar-Caribbean,’ and were given support by the World Food Programme (WFP) and other non- governmental organisations.
After that, everyone had to take care of themselves. Some went to their relatives in Gulu town while others went to Coo-pee camp as they were too traumatized to return to Lukodi. They also succinctly remember that the Justice and Reconciliation Project had been helping with reburials.
One participant recalls that he returned to Lukodi on May 20, 2004 with a group of doctors who excavated the dead, did post-mortems, took photos and then reburied them.
As an Acholi sitting here listening, I am wondering “was that right? Did it show respect for the dead? Was that in line with Acholi traditional practices?” The photos later appeared during Ongwen’s trial.
When we start the discussion on reparations and what the community wants, a woman firmly says: “Give us cows. These will multiply. Don’t give us money. The men will drink the money.”
We clearly see the gendered interpretations of reparations. All the men sitting in the group want money but the women want livestock.
There is also the issue of the missing children. A woman narrates that her son was abducted and has never resurfaced. He could have been around 30 years of age by now. His contemporaries have finished university and settled. I feel her deep pain and, honestly, I don’t know how to respond.
Ghost victims in Odek: We need to know who is a true victim
“I was 10 years, in Primary four, and had just come back from school. I went to bathe with my friends at about 5:30 pm. On the way to the lake we found some men sitting on an anthill. They told us to bathe quickly and come back. The camp was attacked in the evening around 6pm. They abducted me from the house and many people were killed. I was abducted for a month. I was later taken to Gulu Support the Children Organisation (GUSCO), and then returned home,” says a victim.
This massacre occurred on the April 29, 2004 at Odek IDP camp. There was heavy killing, looting and burning of houses. One old man narrates:
“I was a businessman. My shop was full. I lost everything.”
As we proceed with the discussion the issue of fake or camouflaging victims comes out strongly.
“As victims, we had an association called Kica Ber which has collapsed because of poor leadership. We now hear people from Dino, Awere, those who were in town, claiming that they were victims of this massacre yet they were not.”
Expectations of reparations in Odek have created this situation. The former camp-commander tells us that he has a book where he wrote the names of the dead, wounded and abducted.
From Odek, we learn that there is a need to identify the true victims and categorize them - the dead, wounded, abducted and so forth - and victims should be compensated according to the magnitude of their suffering.
The rate for ‘Culu-Kwor’, a penalty for deliberate killing, is 15 cows and one for the chief, making it 16, according to the cultural institution. Such rates should be used when the government starts paying for the dead.
By Stella Laloyo Apecu
The writer is a lecturer at Gulu University’s Institute of Peace and Strategic Studies (IPSS)