Worse Than The Warrior Part - 2
by Mark Montgomery
Nsambya Police Station – Kampala, Uganda
“You must eat” said the police woman. Her voice was caring.
“Why should I eat? I am dead already!” Margaret mumbled.
“How can you say that!”
“Because I have given my children away.” Her mumbles were almost inaudible.
“Why did you do that?”
“The Chairman of the Local Council, the LC, came to our shack with terrible words!” “Tell me…”
“My husband was drunk, very drunk. People heard him say he was on his way to kill us …all the children…me… to burn the shack with all of us in it.”
“I see…” The police woman was no stranger to tragedy.
“The LC Chairman, Ajore, told us to flee for our lives!”
“Was your husband often violent?”
“He always beat us…me…and the children…very badly…” Margaret did not cry. “He has chased us with a panga2…to hack us to death…”
“Where are your children now?”
Karamajong family on the streets of Kampala
Our future should not be in a prison
“I couldn’t bring them all with me. They are many. I did not have enough money to pay for the lorry transport to Kampala.”
“I understand…what did you do?”
“You must help us! He will find us and kill us!”
“Where are your other children now?” The police woman touched Margaret’s hand. She looked up at the police woman, shocked by the unfamiliarity of human compassion.
“I took Atim Jennifer, Agokita Alfred, Anguyu Santos and Abiriga Samuel with me.”
“Where are the others?”
“I gave Chandiru Natalia to a friend. She is called Unjai. John Mawa is with Ajore, the Local Council Chairman.” She looked away from the police woman and sighed. “Alesio Grace I gave to Gideon, someone I barely know.
“You will find them again. God will help you.” The police woman consoled her without conviction. “Now, try to eat. Your children have eaten.”
“I cannot. I am dead.” Margaret shook her head.
“You have had a long and difficult day. Try to sleep. The lorry will leave here at 10:00 tomorrow. You will be taken, with your children, to Kampiringisa National Rehabilitation Centre.
Kampiringisa National Rehabilitation Centre – 150 kms south west of Kampala.
The main hall at the Kampiringisa National Rehabilitation Centre reverberated with the clamour of more than 100 street families that had been delivered there with Margaret, just on that day. The cacophony scared her.
Most of the time she could not understand what anyone was saying. When she was taken from her village she was also taken from her language. In the village of her husband she learnt to speak Kiswahili and Lugbara instead of her native Ngakirimojong. Here, south of Kampala, such a long way from anything she knew, they spoke Luganda.
“I am dead! I am dead!” She swayed from side to side, muttering to herself. “I have given my children away. I am in a strange land. I am dead! I am dead!”
“Eat this.” She looked up at a neatly dressed man. His eyes smiled kindly at her. “Eat some of this…Always better to face problems on a full stomach?” She had not eaten in three days. She picked at the beans and posho. Little by little her appetite came back. She was just about to lick the plate.
“I’m so pleased you enjoyed our food!” The man stood before her once again. “I am Mr Okwera. I am on the staff at this centre. I have read the notes on your situation.
“Notes…?”
“Yes, we will help you in any way we can.”
“I gave my children away. I am shamed!” She lowered her head.
“You had many problems. Please, do not worry. We will help you.”
“How…tell me how you will help me!”
“We will pray to God! You must pray to God.”
Young child in a traditional settlement in Karamoja
Young boy enjoying a meal on the Feed a Million Mouths International feeding initiative in Karamoja
Margaret settled into the routine of the Rehabilitation centre after about ten days. She took comfort in the fact that the children she had with her were safe and well fed. She lamented the loss of the children who were… she did not know where. She took solace in work. The rehabilitation centre gave her a small plot of ground to do with as she pleased. She started digging with a vengeance. Each fierce downward slam of the hoe seemed to draw the pain out of her, drop by drop. Hard labour brought rewards. Soon, green shoots appeared. Then, so much sooner than expected, she had surplus vegetables to sell to the staff at the centre. Her natural gift for business was revived.
“I know who can help you.” She had not seen Mr Okwera for several days. As always, he was a bouquet of smiles. She knelt before him as was her custom when meeting her elders.
“No one can help me. I have abandoned my children.”
“Aunty Rita will be here tonight.” Mr Okwera continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “She will bring some children who will sing for us.”
“I want my own children to sing for me!”
“You cannot miss her. She is short and brown. Please talk to her tonight?” He smiled and left before she could answer.
After the Concert
“I am Aunty Rita, from Dwelling Places. You are Margaret?” The woman was indeed as Mr Okwera had described. He had neglected to say that she had a smile so wide it seemed to stretch from Jinja to Bwindi! Margaret was defenceless before the onslaught of such uncontrived charm.
She could not tell if Aunty Rita was older than she, so she knelt down in front of her in respect, just in case she was. “Hello Aunty Rita.”
“Hello Margaret. Mr Okwera has told me about you. Let’s sit over there and talk about what we can do together.”
By the time Aunty Rita left, Margaret felt a new energy coursing through her being. “Is this what hope feels like?” She hesitated for a second. Then she smiled. For the first time in …she could not remember in how long, she smiled! Aunty Rita would take her children and put them in school! Her children would go to school! They would learn! They would have a future!
“Yes! Yes! This is what hope must feel like.”
What next for me?
About Margaret
Margaret has been part of the Dwelling Places programme since 2006. Dwelling Places has prepared her children to enter mainstream education in Uganda. The organisation has paid their school fees, medical expenses and has provided them with food and clothing.
Margaret remained in the Rehabilitation Centre until December 2009. During her time there she was more industrious and entrepreneurial than ever. She continued to cultivate her plot of ground and sold her produce at a profit. Soon she had saved enough money to buy sugar cane and sweet bananas at wholesale prices. She resold these at a profit. She quickly realised that several staff members and fellow residents were not using their plots. She offered to cultivate their plots – at a price. Very soon she was producing sugar cane and bananas as well. She also raised pigs for meat.
In 2009 Dwelling Places rented a room for her in the trading centre in Mpambire. This allowed her to leave the Rehabilitation Centre and to live autonomously. In Feb 2011 Dwelling Places was able to provide her with a house large enough to accommodate her family. The cottage stands on a large plot of land. She sustains herself through small hold farming, selling charcoal and by selling the papyrus mats that she makes.
By January 2010 Margaret had saved enough money to make the long and expensive journey north again. She met with Ajore, the LC chairman in the village in Arua, who had warned her that her husband was about to burn her and her children alive. With his help she was reunited with each one of her children that she had left behind.
My face – The canvas for my pain
At the time of writing:
Mawa John is working as driver of a minibus in Arua and Southern Sudan. Since being reunited with his mother he has travelled down from Arua to Mpambiri to spend some time with her.
Chandiru Natalia has married. Recently she gave birth to a little girl. She lives in Arua.
Atim Jennifer studies in Mpigi – a town close to where she lives with her mother. She is in P7 –the last year of primary school – At Lujumba Preparatory School.
Alesio Grace is in school in Tororo. She has stayed with Gideon who fostered her when Margaret had to flee for her life. She is completing P4. She is in regular telephone contact with her mother.
Anguyu Andama Santos is completing P4 in the same school as Jennifer. Abiriga Samuel is completing P2 in Mpambire near Mpigi where Margaret lives.
Angokita Alfred attends the same school as Abiriga. He is in P1.
In 2007, Peter, was born to her from a relationship at the Rehabilitation Centre at Kampiringisa.
Margaret has plans to expand her mat making activities. She believes she has spotted a market for pork , in the area where she lives. She is thinking of raising pigs again.
She lives free from fear.
