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Interview with Boniface Ojok

In the last few months, the ‘Right to Know’ campaign has formed a central part of JRP’s work. Voices Magazine sat down with JRP Programme Coordinator, Boniface Ojok, to get his insight on the campaign, its purpose and the hopes for the upcoming months.

Photo: Alfred Oryem/JRP.

 Voices Magazine: Could you briefly tell us the history of JRP?

Boniface Ojok: JRP started in around 2004 at a time when the discussion around justice and accountability hit the floor in Northern Uganda, and then the issues were around peace versus justice, traditional justice versus international justice processes and the attempts being pursued at the national level by Ugandans for blanket amnesty.

So then, the discussion was centred around how do we pursue meaningful accountability process? JRP came in to add a unique perspective of how do we bring in voices of the victims in this discussion. This is why we always advocate for the inclusion of locally sensitive, but also culturally relevant approach to Transitional Justice for Northern Ugandans. That is the premise upon which JRP was founded around 2004/2005. But then more fundamental was our involvement in the peace process in 2006, particularly the accountability and reconciliation agenda that was discussed in Juba.

Since then we have been following and trying to engage as widely as possible, not only with the victims of conflict in Northern Uganda but also with those who should be trying to pursue a relevant mechanism in terms of Transitional Justice, with Government of Uganda and also regional and international bodies that can help the transitional justice process in Uganda,

VM: Talking about engagement with victims in Northern Uganda, how would you describe the situations of persons that are still missing as a result of the conflict?

BO: The ‘missing persons’ issue is a very crucial area that we as practitioners in Northern Uganda should begin to pay much more attention to. One thing to note is that the discussion around missing persons has never been on anyone’s agenda, but I think in the past few months we have seen some initiatives and we have seen some momentum generated from civil society organisations and local organisations such as CAP Uganda to try and raise the awareness that the issue is real. Also, at JRP by engaging with victims on the idea of truth-telling at the local level is a clear testimony that missing persons should form part and partial of an agenda for truth-telling in Uganda.

In our studies on truth-telling we were able to find out from people that look, indeed people want to know something about what happened to their missing persons, their spouses, children and siblings. So ideally when speaking about truth-telling process, one fundamental aspect that ought not to be ignored for the case of Northern Uganda is where is the missing persons’ debate here?

Right from 1986 when this conflict began, we have had people gone missing either have to being unaccounted for because of security agencies in Uganda or the rebels. So then till now we have witnessed situation where victims have remained silent, but not silent because they are happy, silent because they can’t be given the opportunity to come out and express their grievance over their loved ones gone missing. So I think the question of missing persons remains an integral component of the truth-telling process in Uganda.

VM: Talking about these families who have persons still missing, what would you describe as some of the most important needs to these families who are going through every day with the knowledge that they don’t know where their relatives are?

BO: I think for one, families of the missing living with the pain and agony of their loved ones gone missing is a very terrible scenario. Imagine an orphan left behind together with other siblings in the absence of their bread winner, living on a day by day basis for all these years is really something beyond which I can explain. For that matter, I think if you are looking at the whole question of Transitional Justice, the whole question of truth-telling, for instance, and ignoring the fact that the missing persons should be talked about, then we are really heading into a very difficult scenario.

Take for instance abductions that have happened. Plenty of children, elderly people or people with energy to carry load on their head, people who served as soldiers in the LRA, as an example, how many are they? Unfortunately we don’t have the records. They really constitute a big number of people who went out there and were either killed or up to now no one knows their whereabouts.

Formerly abducted persons have come back home but without a detailed account of where their colleagues who were in the rebellion are. We need a situation where these issues are brought to our attention. How do we get to know their whereabouts, who is responsible for this? This should all be brought to the attention of victims and those who still mourn their loved ones. I think the situation we are left with is a family that is in despair, a family that is so desperate for someone they have really lost for a long time.

VM: You did mention that there are initiatives coming from civil society organisations. What is being done at the national level to address the issue of missing persons?

BO: The issue of missing persons, let alone the whole transitional justice arena is often a very much ignored subject. I think as civil society, you can bear me witness that the struggle to bring transitional justice issues, issues to do with accountability and reconciliation on the agenda of our national government has been a very difficult one. That alone was a milestone achieved at Juba. The next milestone is: are these issues going to be particular to the needs of those who are really affected? Are they going to address the real victims who still suffer to date? What about the issues of the missing persons that we are talking about, are they going to be fully incorporated into our proposed truth-telling formula that has been generated by JLOS? Are we going to ideally develop a transitional justice framework that doesn’t look into the issue of those who are not with us here? These are real questions that victims will always ask us.

We still remain optimistic that something will be done. We still remain optimistic that finally Government will come up and say look this is what we have done. The NRA, the UPDF will come up and say look this is what happened to those who were abducted. This is a clear testimony that your children we didn’t protect are really languishing in the jungles of DRC, or your children we didn’t protect have actually died in our hands during battle and we should move forward as a nation and heal the wounds of those who still think that tomorrow my child will be back or where is the bones of my loved one so that I can bury him? These are issues that I think if well addressed at that level we shall have something meaningful.

VM: What is the way forward for JRP in this process?

BO: I think for local organisations like JRP together with others, it’s our role to garner the support of victims and civil society so that we begin to look at these issues and see how best to confront them. How to push these issues to the agenda of government is the primary responsibility of the civil society fraternity. We act as an anchor between victims and our policy makers, so when issues of missing persons are not addressed then organisations like JRP and CAP Uganda remain quite irrelevant and even at the national level, the JLOS will actually be irrelevant.

So I think the way forward is for us to really work together as stakeholders, embrace the issue and try and generate momentum and, for once raise hope in the victims who still think they can be healed. I think this is the time for closure as victims. This is the time that we as civil society can become a relevant force in trying to reckon with the past that they have been through.

I think the campaign on missing persons should be a campaign that should continue and I think it should not only be JRP that embraces this. It’s a campaign for all of us. It’s a campaign to raise awareness among victims that, look, you can do something about this situation you are in. I think it’s also an encouragement for victims that, look, there is hope at the end of the tunnel. This in preparation for their healing process is very fundamental. Again a message to victims is that these efforts do generate a lot of hope but also there is so little we can do as civil society apart from trying to get you together to respond or to walk for these missing persons. It’s your campaign.

VM: Thank very much

BO: You are welcome. ▪

The Right to Truth and Justice

Finding the Truth for Families of Persons Still Missing as a Result of Conflict in Northern Uganda

By Sylvia Opinia

One evening while finalising the preparations for the Dialogue on Disappearances

Neville Wachibra, who went missing in 2002, poses in an undated photo. Family photo.

to commemorate the International Day Against Enforced Disappearances on 30th August 2012, we pinned up posters made by JRP in collaboration with Children/Youth as Peace Builders (CAP) Uganda, as an indicative list of missing persons in Gulu District. The waiter who brought our drinks suddenly stood there for some time while skimming through the names and finally asked one of my colleagues how he could get the name of his missing relative to be included on the poster. What caught my attention was not the question but the fact that in Northern Uganda almost every family has or knows of a family member who is missing.

Neville Wachibra for instance, is Norah Fathum’s eldest son. He went missing after an attack on a Nile coach bus on 19th September 2002 along Karuma – Packwach road just before he began his first year at Makerere University. To this day, Norah does not know the whereabouts of her son while the younger brother Emmanuel has to cope with the trauma of losing his role model at a young age. Julius Odonget is the son of Robert and Anna Okanya of Obalanga sub-county, Amuria District in Teso sub-region. In 2003, Julius was abducted with his sister after the LRA entered Teso through Obalanga. His sister managed to escape from captivity but Julius’ whereabouts remain unknown. Josephine and Bua Peter also lost their son Maxwell Ayo. Today they continue to hope to find his remains so that they can conduct a proper burial for him.

Evelyn Amony’s daughter, born in captivity, went missing after fighting between the UPDF and the LRA broke out in Sudan. Rumoured to have been taken by the UPDF, Evelyn’s daughter remains separated from her mother. Martin Ononge talks passionately about his son in law and his son who joined Alice Lakwena’s Holy Spirit Movement to fight but were arrested by NRA soldiers and taken to the prison where they were forced to dig without adequate amounts of food to eat. After two years, some of the people that were arrested with them came back, but his son and son-in-law have still not returned. Ononge up to date continues to search for his missing son and son-in-law.

These and many similar stories are told from West Nile, Acholi, Lango and Teso sub regions, of loved ones who disappeared during the height of the conflict in Northern Uganda. Amidst the immense post conflict challenges, those whose relatives are still missing and/or unaccounted for continue to seek answers to the whereabouts of their loved ones yet the issue of those who disappeared during the conflict has not made it to the national agenda.

 The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) defines missing persons as all those whose families are without news of them and/or are reported missing, on the basis of reliable information, owing to armed conflict. These include those disappeared by the state or taken by armed groups, children forcibly recruited or adopted, combatants missing in action and those in clandestine detention. It goes further to classify that in addition to the direct victim of disappearance, the families of the missing are its victims. In Northern Uganda, civilians have disappeared in the hands of both government and rebel forces. Though the magnitude (numbers of those missing) is not known, recent studies conducted by CAP, a local NGO working in the Acholi sub-region, indicates that in Gulu district alone, those who are still missing account for 29.5% of the total number of abductions by the LRA. Yet apart from local community based initiatives to search for their loved ones, at national level, no interventions have been put in place to deal with this major concern.

The ICRC, Amnesty International, the International Convention for the Protection of all People from Enforced Disappearances and the Rome Statute among others have gone further to justify that indeed knowledge about the whereabouts or establishing facts about what happened to their loved ones is a right for the families of the disappeared, as well the first step towards a process of seeking redress for their missing relatives.  In our studies on truth-telling (see the series of JRP publications on www.justiceandreconciliation.com), we were able to find out that indeed people want to know something about what happened to their missing persons, siblings, children and spouses. Right from 1986 when the LRA/GoU conflict started, we have heard stories of people gone missing, to be unaccounted for either by state security agents or by the rebels, to date victims have remained silent but not silent because they are happy but because they have not been given the opportunity to come out and express their grievances about their loved ones gone missing.

Bringing the issues of accountability and reconciliation on the national agenda at Juba and the consequent developments within JLOS has been a milestone worth applauding. However, the next milestone is, are these issues going to be particular to those who were affected? Are they going to address the real victims who still suffer to date? What about missing persons, are they going to be fully incorporated into our proposed transitional justice (TJ) policy being generated by JLOS. Are we going to pretend to develop a TJ process that does not look at the issue of those who are still missing? That at the end of the TJ process will we have achieved anything if thousands of families in Northern Uganda still do not know the whereabouts of those who have gone missing?

 Much as one can argue in theory, that all the TJ mechanisms can play a role in one way or the other to address the issue of missing persons, it is important to note that this begs for special and adequate consideration for a well facilitated justice mechanism based on the right truth and relevant information. So the question of missing persons remains an integral component of a truth-telling process in Uganda. Ideally when speaking about truth-telling, one fundamental aspect that ought not to be ignored for the case of Northern Uganda is the question “where is the missing person?” Take for instance abductions of plenty of children and adults, those who served as foot soldiers in the LRA, how many were they? Though we do not have actual figures, they constituted a big number of the population who are either killed or disappeared. Formerly Abducted Persons have come back without a detailed account of where their colleagues who were in the rebellion are. We need a mechanism where these issues are brought to our attention for us to get to know their whereabouts and who is responsible.

Hence for any TJ process and a truth-telling process for this matter to be meaningful, these are issues to be confronted with. We still remain optimistic that something will be done, that finally the government, the NRA/UPDF will come out and say “look this is what happened to those who were abducted; that your children whom we did not protect are languishing in the jungles of DRC or they have actually died in our hands and we should move forward as a nation and heal the wounds of those who still think that tomorrow their loved ones will be back or they will locate their remains”.  These are issues that need to be addressed at that level.

This however can only be possible if the key stakeholders especially the GoU formally acknowledge the fact that this is a problem that requires intervention by putting it on the policy agenda. JRP through its “Right to Know Campaign” has created a platform for families and relatives of the missing to explore and situate the concerns and anguish of families/relatives of missing persons. We hope that this campaign will heighten awareness and draw the attention of the GoU, CSOs, donor community and the public about the missing or people who are unaccounted for as a result of conflict and the anguish of their families.

It’s therefore my passionate appeal to all key stakeholders especially the civil society fraternity, that the missing person is a very crucial area that we as practitioners in Northern Uganda must begin paying attention to. It is our role to garner the support of victims and other like-minded CSOs to begin looking at these issues and push them to the agenda of government. As a way forward, I challenge that we work together to embrace the issue, generate momentum and raise hope in the victims who are still searching for answers and/or healing. This is the time for closure for victims and for CSOs to become a relevant force to reckon with the past that these victims have been through. ▪

 Sylvia Opinia is the Team Leader for JRP’s Community Mobilisation Department.

 

Letter from the PC

Dear Readers,

Welcome to our latest edition of Voices Magazine where we bring you some local perspectives on the ‘Right to Know’. In August JRP launched the ‘Right to Know’ campaign to draw attention to the significance of truth seeking and missing persons in the transitional justice discourse in Uganda. Key to this campaign is the legacy of the various conflicts that have occurred in Northern Uganda leaving hundreds of persons gone missing and in need of the truth of their whereabouts.

From its inception, JRP has been overwhelmed by the number of persons who claim they have lost their loved ones while others have gone missing. The most pronounced of these incidents have been attributed to LRA abductions, more especially to their method of forcibly recruiting innocent civilians to their ranks, torture, killing and maiming. However, we are also aware that another worrying trend of atrocities, such as disappearances in the past has been orchestrated by state agents. These however have largely been unspoken of, or even unreported. In fact, many families to date are still at bitter terms with the government for having a hand in the numerous disappearance persons gone missing in Northern Uganda as testified by one elder: “As the new government took over power they turned against the very people they claimed to have fought for. My children and several other relatives in this area went missing on accusations that they were collaborators. I am now an old man with no children …”

In August 2012, when we got together families/representatives of victims across the greater Northern Uganda in Gulu town, our anticipation (as usual) was to begin a dialogue around the ‘Right to Know’. The dialogue which begun at Gulu town in August should go a long way in re-awakening our thoughts around truth seeking and missing persons. From the August dialogue with victims and families of the missing, I learnt that the term ‘missing persons’ should be understood in its broadest sense. Missing persons or persons unaccounted for are those whose families are without news of them and/or are reported missing on the basis of reliable information. People become unaccounted for due to a wide variety of circumstances, such as displacement, whether as an internally displaced person or a refugee, being killed in action during an armed conflict, or forcibly or involuntarily disappearing. The issue of missing persons is thus intrinsically linked with the respect of rights of the families concerned. One of those fundamental rights is ‘Right to Know’ what happened to the loved ones.

This newsletter therefore in part seeks to give a voice to the missing persons, aware that Uganda is on course with developments around truth-telling. We do this because we know that in war many people go missing, causing anguish and uncertainty for families and friends. People have the right to know what happened to their missing relatives while at the same time governments, the military authorities and armed groups have an obligation to provide information and assist efforts to put families back together. Through the newsletter, we anticipate that the voices of those who still live in pain seeking to mourn their loved ones are reflected within the broader agenda of truth-telling and reconciliation in Uganda.

We assert that the lack of attention paid to the issue of truth-telling and more specifically missing persons doesn’t only give anguish to the families, but also hampers the efforts at reconciliation and a return to peace and stability in Northern Uganda. The ‘Right to Know’ goes beyond the ordinary pain and anguish suffered by individuals, but also the whole community who collectively have a duty to make peace and reconcile with their neighbours/perpetrators with whom they most often live side by side. We shall continue to work with victim/family networks since we have learnt they play an important role in the ‘right to know’ as well as in promoting public recognition of the problem. We believe what we have started through exchange of information between the victim networks across the different regions in the greater Northern Uganda could significantly influence the reconciliation process in the region. It should also help advance the cause of justice for the victims and their families, who want their loss to be taken into account.

Just like any transitional justice process, the ‘right to know’ should be depoliticised in a manner that binds all stakeholders without making any differences based on the ethnic or regional origin of the problem. Every victim has a ‘right to know’ therefore the call to address the plight caused by disappearance can never be underestimated by civil society and government of Uganda as narrated throughout the text of this magazine issue.

Finally, I take the opportunity to thank all our readers and the support shown throughout the year 2012. I also convey my gratitude to all the contributors to this magazine issue.

Ododo Wa: Our Stories

By Nancy Apiyo

 JRP’s Gender Justice department uses the unique mechanism of storytelling to help women talk about the crimes violated against them during and after war. Storytelling  is a culturally familiar tool which gives women the space to talk and to express themselves freely. Nancy Apiyo relates the special perspective women have on reparations garnered from such sessions.

Sitting around a fireplace is a culturally familiar method of storytelling in Acholi culture.

 It was common in the past to find families around the wang-oo (fireplace) telling stories, discussing family issues or teaching children. So this is not new to the women, the only difference being that we do it during day. Women have been silent because it is hard to talk about sexual violence and also fear. That is why we had to find a method that can encourage them to speak.

Reparations were the topic of discussion during the last story telling session with the women. The concept of gender mainstreaming has to be considered in discussions about the concept, design and implementation of reparations. Clearly everyone suffers during conflict, but specific violence happens to people because of their gender. Even when women are subjected to the same violence as men, the pre-existing social, economic and cultural meaning of a person being a man or woman means that harms to women and men does not have the same effect.

It is therefore important to give women a platform to talk so that their voice is included throughout the process of attaining reparations. This is why we designed this storytelling session around reparations.

The majority of the women who took part in the discussions were abducted and stayed for long periods of time with the rebel groups.  We had to fully explain what reparation is to the women, the various kinds of reparations and the fact that it is their right to have reparation before giving them the chance to talk.  We asked them questions like: What do you understand by the term reparation? What kind of reparation is relevant to you?  What should government do to restore your lives? Is reparation important? If so, why? 

One of the women defined reparations as “acknowledging that something wrong has been done to somebody and [that] the perpetrator is ready and willing to pay it back in order to please the offended party and restore relations.”

It is also common for women to ask for basic needs as a form of reparation or ask for reparation for those close to her and not herself. That can be because they do not know that it is their right to have reparations or because they feel marginalised in society and not valued or simply because they are mothers, which makes them think that others are more important than them.

It is common for a woman to talk about what happened to her husband or children and not to her yet she suffers most during conflict both directly and indirectly. This makes it hard for their issues to be considered. For that reason we used a body mapping exercise to guide the women through the discussion so that they are able to reflect on themselves and not some one else.  

They put marks on a drawing of a body maps to indicate where they were physically, psychologically, mentally, spiritually or socially hurt during the conflict. Later on they discuss what they have marked and relating it to reparations.

One of the women put a mark on the body they have drawn and says:  “The point you see marked on my knee is an effect of war. I got injured by a bullet and it is still buried there. The mark you see on my chest shows the sorrow and heartache that I have because a lot of my time was wasted during the war.” 

The majority of the women have similar responses to the questions, most likely because of the similarity in the kind of violence they experienced. They talk about crimes that were violated against them such as being forced into marriage to older men. They talk about how they gave birth to children who they are taking care of now at home without support of the men, their families or the government. They talk about sexual crimes that were violated against them.  They narrated stories of giving birth on battle field. Some of the women developed complications as a result of being forced into giving birth at an early age. 

They narrated stories of how the men forced them into sex when they were not yet ready. How they were beaten every time the men called them to the house to have sex with them or how they were threatened to be killed if they refused. Many of them were young and still virgins.  Many of the women gave birth at the age of fifteen and below.

One of the women lamented of how labour is more painful in a battlefield.

“I was in captivity when people were sent to the camps. For those abducted, it was not nice to be a woman. When I think of what happened to us during the war, I find life is useless. First of all we were abducted as very young girls and forcefully given to men who are our grandfather’s age mates. If you refused, you were killed. You became pregnant whether you wanted or not. We delivered in very uncomfortable conditions. Sometimes you delivered on the run with no water to clean up yourself and flies come over covering you up because of the bleeding.”

Another narrates how she gave birth during a convoy: “We reached a certain road on the third day, labour pain intensified and my water broke and I started pushing and delivered there. They dug a hole and buried the placenta as I carried my baby.”

Many still have pain because of giving birth at a tender age under terrible conditions. Others have contracted HIV after being given to men whose HIV status was not known.

They narrate stories of how they had to cook for the rebels, carry their luggage, be wives and mothers to the children they gave birth to. As female combatants they had the extra burden of taking care of the kids they were forced to have.  As one of the participants in the story telling narrated: “During battles it was hard for us to run with the kids especially when they were many. Men did not mind about children.”

Despite returning home, many of the women are still traumatised as mothers because of the loss of their children, and what they went through. One of the women is distraught about one of her children who got lost during an attack. Her body was not found and she does not know the fate of the child. She still has dreams of this child. 

It is not easy to talk about such experiences and some of the women break down as they talk. In one of the sessions we are seated under a mango tree one chilly afternoon as we listen to them. They encourage each other in their groups and give each other support. Sometimes there is silence as they recall the past. Others decide to just keep quiet while others decide to talk. The women narrate war stories like old women narrating stories of the ogre to kids and not stories of sexual violence, physical torture and so much evil. Stories you would not wish to be true or to happen to your loved ones.

We listen intently as one of the women continues to say: “We gave birth to very many children. I now have six children because I started giving birth when I was still very young. Whenever there was fighting it was the women to carry the children. When one of them got shot, you left him there and continued running for your life. Newborn babies were tied on their mothers’ necks to make carrying them easy and if the mother was shot then the baby remained with her. Sometimes it was the babysitters carrying them who got shot. The babies remained with them and starved to death.”

On top of what the women went through as women, girls and mothers because of their gender they also experienced the same trauma as of being forced to kill as the men and boys who were abducted. One of them narrates “sometimes you are trained as a soldier and taken to the frontline. Worst of all, whenever someone is caught escaping you were forced to kill them against your will. When such a thing has happened to you, it keeps on haunting you when you come back home.”

Despite the silence of the guns, women continue to suffer. Some of the women have returned to stay with the men they were forced to stay with in the bush because they think the only way to take care of the children they were forced to have is by staying with their fathers. These men continue to violate the rights of the women. One man mistreated his wife for a long time until she finally opened up to her friend through one of the storytelling sessions. She said she got confidence and courage to report the man to the authorities after sharing her story with the rest. She felt empowered and that her dignity was restored when she shared her story with the rest. Her friends managed to get her a place to work. She then left the man and is taking care of her children alone.

When we asked the women how they think their lives should be restored they responded that they feel the homes of the children they gave birth to in the bush should be traced and unity created among them with the men’s families.  They think it is important for the children to know their paternal homes. They also say they want the government to reform laws on land so that children born in captivity need to have access to their family land. As one of the story tellers says: “For me what I ask the government to do is to put laws that deals with land wrangles because I have returned with children whom they say do not own land. This idea of saying that they do not own land should be stopped.”

They also want their children’s school fees to be paid. They say it breaks their heart to see their children not going to school and that their children may not have a bright future.

They also talk about the need for reparations for the physical ailments they now suffer from because of the conflict. Some women continue to live in pain because of bullets lodged in their bodies that have to be removed.  A woman says, “I still have a bullet on my head that is why I have marked it and I feel a lot of pain. I always tie [a cloth over] my head because of the pain I feel. I only untie it at night because it does not want me to stay in a hot place most especially when I am cooking.”

They also want monetary compensation for the time they wasted in the bush. As one of the storytellers suggests, “If at all the government can, it should pay for our time that was wasted that led to our being illiterate. I should be compensated with money that will change my life.”

The women also feel that it is important for them to know the truth about the war. Some are back and do not even know the reason why they were abducted or why there was a war in Northern Uganda or even who is responsible for years of suffering. They also want acknowledgement from the government about what happened to them and they want apology from the commanders who abducted them and mistreated them in the bush.  

They also want the government to apologise for not protecting them. They believe the men who committed sexual crimes against them should be prosecuted. They talk about the need for psychosocial support to help them overcome the trauma they went through and say it is important to put up centres where they can go and get counselling.

When we asked them who they think should provide reparation the majority of women said it is the government, but one of the women groups discussed the role survivors and victims have to play. They cited how they have to make good use of what the government provides in form of reparations. The communities also have to accept the past and come to terms with it so that they can create reconciliation among themselves. They believe the community has a big role to play in creating    reconciliation and forgiveness if they are to live in harmony. They gave an example of stopping stigma within the communities and the acceept of children born in captivity. 

They also talked of the big role communities play in reviving the lost culture by teaching their children about the culture they had before the war.

They talked of people being responsible citizens as they move on with their lives, such as by reporting of crimes within the community and thereby helping to reduce the level of crime. The communities should also hand in the guns they had during the war and stop using them they said.

Ultimately, the women believe reparation is very important because it can lead to healing and reconciliation and it is a way of attaining justice.

 

It is important to have a transformative kind of reparation that does not just repair the lives of the women but transform them. Women have been marginalised for a long time and it is important for them to be empowered so that their lives are changed. For example this can be done by providing free education for the girl child who suffered during conflict and through the sensitisation of women about their rights so that they can be active citizens.

It is also important to empower women economically so that they are more independent, otherwise they will continue to suffer and be abused even after the conflict. Now that the war has ended, women are still suffering from domestic violence and girls are being forced into early marriages. If the country is to have an effective reparation system then it has to change the lives of women so that they are more empowered citizens and there is no chance for them to be abused again.▪

 

Nancy Apiyo is a Project Assistant with JRP’s Gender Justice department.

 

Wars

Women’s Advocacy Network

A poem written by members of the Di Cwiny group.

Oh! Wars are terrible,

Wars made us grow up without our parents.

We grew up orphans.

 

Wars, Wars, Wars.

Wars have made our home die out.

It became a deserted homestead.

We grew up in camps.

The pride and culture of Acholi is spoilt and has disappeared.

 

Wars are bad, wars are bad.

It made me give birth when I was still very young.

I knew men before the time I should have.

 

Wars, wars, wars.

Wars made me grow up eating wild plants  like adyebo,

Moving long distances,

Day and night,

Crossing rivers,

Forests and mountains,

It made it hard to differentiate us from birds and wild animals.

 

Every morning you began the journey.

Night comes,

Gunshots are heard,

We were hurt and killed from gunshots.

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Bones have remained in the bush.

Oh! Oh! Wars.

This poem was written by the Women’s Advocacy Network’s Di Cwiny Group in memory of all the children who died in captivity and never lived to come back home.▪

 

No One Responded to My Plea

An elderly victim’s cry for reparations

Lino Owor Ogora

No One Responded to My Plea - Carla Akidi
Carla Akidi spoke to JRP's Lino Owor Ogora

Mego Carla Akidi is 59 years old and is one of the many victims of the war in Northern Uganda who are still longing for reparations from the government in various forms. For people like her, all that is needed is assistance to take care of their surviving children, who can only hope for a bright future through the completion of their education.

Carla lost three sons as a result of abductions and killings perpetrated by the LRA.  She was happily married and living in Paimol with her husband Mzee Aboda Yakobo prior to the conflict, but they were later displaced into an Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camp at the height of the conflict. They were later to live through several years of terror and fear as they struggled to keep alive amidst the violence being perpetrated by the LRA.

 Carla’s first three children, all boys, were abducted by the LRA to serve as rebel soldiers. Her first son, Otim Largo, was abducted in 1993 while he was aged only 20 years. A few months later, her second son, Labongo Samuel was also abducted. Some years later, her third child, Olweny Richard was also abducted by the LRA, and Carla was now left only small children. All of the abductions occurred during raids that the LRA conducted while the family lived in the IDP camps.

Carla never saw her children again and only later heard that they were dead. Richard was reportedly killed in a gun battle in Aswa. Otim Largo was brutally murdered by an LRA commander after refusing to kill a fellow abductee. He was beaten heavily, and slowly tortured to death by breaking several bones in his body. Odong Samuel reportedly starved to death in Sudan as a result of the LRA’s lack of provisions.

 While Carla was left with her three other children, two girls and one boy, she was disillusioned by the loss of her first three children. She feels that if the older children had been alive, they would have succeeded in life and supported her in her old age. Carla now has to work hard to support the younger children with her main source of income being agriculture.

Her eldest daughter, Arach Grace, is in senior four in secondary school. Her son, Omol Justin also recently joined secondary school, while her youngest daughter, Ayoo Martha is still in primary school, but needs to join the boarding section, which is expensive.

Carla has been forced to struggle single-handedly to meet their needs because her husband Yakobo is old and frail. Yakobo’s health deteriorated as a result of an injury suffered during an LRA attack on the Paimol IDP Camp during the conflict. He can neither engage in agriculture nor pursue any other meaningful trade to earn income for his family. In addition, her husband lost his cattle during the conflict and was left with no substantial means of livelihood.

 Carla has been asking and longing for some form of reparations for several years now. In her own words, “some action should be taken to help elderly people who lost their children.” Carla says that the closest she came to hoping for assistance was when ‘some whites’ and a Catholic Nun called Sister Veronica came and talked to her and took her photograph, but she never heard from them again.

 “What pains me is that if my children had not been abducted and killed by the LRA, they would probably be supporting me and my husband, and I would not have to live the life of a beggar that I am living now. My children were bright, and I am sure they would have been successful in life. What I want is to be supported as a victim of conflict to pay school fees for my remaining children so that they can help me in future.”

Mego Carla Akidi

The above comment by Mego Carla Akidi is a typical statement that one will hear from many survivors in Northern Uganda. It is close to four years now since active combat in Northern Uganda ended and a reparations program, well designed and crafted by the government, would go a long way in alleviating the situations of individuals like Carla who often prioritise compensation for the lost property (especially cattle), educational support for their children, livelihoods, and health services in the quest for reparations.

The sad fact is that many like Carla do not ask for much. Carla wants nothing for herself, but rather support for her remaining children to purse their education. She also wants support to conduct last funeral rights for her children who were killed because of the LRA. But up till now the Government has been slow in responding to her needs and in drafting a reparations policy to forge a way forward. In addition, many lack a forum or channel through which they can be heard.

Carla for example said, “I talked to some parliamentarians and asked them if they could help me. None of them responded to my plea. Things are so hard for me that I find it difficult to tell my story anymore, but rather to suffer in silence.”

Stories like that of Carla’s, and the many victims of the conflict like her, are an indication that an effective reparation programme in Northern Uganda is long overdue.▪

Lino Owor Ogora is the Team Leader for the Community Documentation Department at JRP..

Reparations and the Law

The term ‘reparation’ usually refers to the measures a state must take after it violates a rule of international law. Reparation can also apply more generally to remedying all wrongs, whether committed by a state and its agents or by private parties. Reparation for genocide and crimes against humanity will usually require remedial action by both individual perpetrators and the state involved because such acts are illegal under national and international law.

The aim of reparation is, where possible, to restore the situation that would have existed had there been no wrongful act. This means to wipe out all of the consequences of the act and to try to re-establish the situation that in all probability would have existed if the act had not been committed.

One widely accepted purpose of reparation is remedial justice, that is, to undo the wrong done to an injured party. Reparation is thus designed to put the injured party in the same position as if no wrongful act had occurred, without respect to the cost or consequences it may have for the wrong doer. Reparation may also serve to punish and deter wrongdoing or aim at reconciliation and inducing positive behavior.

 Types of Reparation

Generally accepted forms of reparations include restitution, compensation, rehabilitation, satisfaction and guarantees of non-repetition. Since they are the most commonly accepted forms of reparation, we shall examine restitution and compensation in this article.

Restitution is intended to restore the victim to the situation that existed before the violations occurred and may include restoration to liberty, legal rights, social status, family life and citizenship, return to the place of residence, restoration of employment, and return of property. When restitution cannot be provided, compensation and/or satisfaction must substitute to remedy the harm that has been done.

Clearly, for survivors of international crimes such as  genocide and crimes against humanity, large amounts of money may be necessary to place victims in the same position of relative satisfaction that they occupied before certain events took place. Compensation is, however, often inadequate as the primary form of reparation. The more serious the harm, the more compensation as a remedy becomes a problem. This is because criminal conduct harms not only the victim, it also undermines the rule of law and violates societal norms. For this reason, compensation is inevitably a second best response when prosecution and restitution prove impossible to achieve. Compensation supplies the means for whatever part of the former life and projects remains possible and allow for new projects. In cases where the perpetrator is made to pay, compensation also reflects a moral judgment of wrong doing on the actions of the perpetrator.

Compensation should be provided for any economically assessable damage resulting from the wrongful acts. Widely acceptable compensable losses include physical or mental harm and the  pain, suffering and emotional distress such harm causes; lost opportunities such as education; material damages and loss of earnings, including the loss of earning potential; harm to reputation or dignity; and costs required for legal or experts assistance, medical services as well as psychological and social services.

 These reparations may be delivered materially or symbolically and individually or collectively.

The Legal Basis of Reparation and Obligations Under International Law

Human rights law and humanitarian law both impose a duty on states to take reasonable measures, or in legal terminology to ‘exercise due diligence’, to prevent violations of human rights by private persons. If the state fails to fulfill this duty it will be responsible for providing reparations. In an early international court case, the Permanent Court of International Justice called the obligation to make reparations for an unlawful act ‘ a general principle of international law’ and part of ‘a general conception of law’ (Factory at Chorzow [Germany v Poland], 1928 P.C.I.J [ser. A], no. 17 at 29 [September 13]).

Human rights treaties and declarations adopted by the United Nations have also guaranteed individual victims the right to a remedy, that is, access to justice and reparations in national proceedings. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Article 8, proclaims that “[e]very one has a right to an effective remedy by the competent national tribunals for acts violating the fundamental rights granted him by the constitution or laws.” This guarantee would, of course, include remedies for criminal acts that violate guaranteed rights.

The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights contains a similar guarantee in its Article 2(3). The UN Human Rights Committee Overseeing Compliance with the Covenant has stated that when, for example, acts of torture occur a government has a duty to “conduct an inquiry into the circumstances of [the victim’s] torture, to punish those found guilty of torture and to take steps to ensure that similar violations do not occur in the future.” The Committee also has called for investigation and prosecution in cases involving arbitrary executions and disappearances. All these acts constitute types of reparations for the wrong done.

Under the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, victims who have suffered harm as a result of genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes have the right to apply for reparations. The Rome Statute also makes provision for victims of these crimes to participate in the court process when their personal interests are affected. Article 75 specifies that the Court shall establish principles relating to reparations to, or in respect of, victims, including restitution, compensation and rehabilitation.

The Procedure for Claiming Reparations

The issue of reparations for genocide and crimes against humanity is complex because the acts usually involve simultaneous breaches of national and international law by individuals and states. Reparations may be owed by both the state and the individuals responsible, and claims may be made by survivors at either the national or international level.

Once local remedies have been concluded, individuals who do not obtain redress may be able to bring claims directly against their own governments or another state in a human rights tribunal. Each human rights treaty usually specifies the rights that are protected and the types of reparations that the tribunal can award the individual whose rights have been violated.

 

 Uganda and Reparation

In Uganda, provisions for reparations are contained in Agenda Item 3 on Accountability and Reconciliation of the Juba Peace Agreement, provisions that, once effectively enforced, would address issues on reparation..

Section 9.1 of the Agenda Item provides that reparation may include a range of measures such as rehabilitation, restitution, compensation, guarantees of non-recurrence and other symbolic measures such as apologies, memorials and commemorations. Priority is to be given to members of the vulnerable group. From sections 11 and 12, one could deduce that the vulnerable groups are women, girls and children.

Section 6.4 provides that alternative penalties and sanctions shall “require perpetrators to make reparations to victims.” This mandatory requirement can only be effective if the perpetrator is in position to fulfil the requirement. This creates an obligation on the Government to make the required reparation.

 For the Government to effectively meet the requirements for reparation under the Juba Agreement, there is therefore a need for, inter alia:

  • A clear policy on reparation and supporting guidelines and later legislation regulating it. The legislation needs to be flexible and the provide opportunity for wide interpretation of reparation on a case by case and individual basis.
  • Provision for victim participation and legal representation in formal and non-formal justice mechanisms.
  • Provision for gender adviser to guide the proceedings in formal and non-formal justice mechanisms.
  • Adoption of international standards, especially as provided under Uganda’s International Criminal Court Act, 2010.
  • Involvement of women in the development of the accountability mechanisms and in decision making.
  • Establish a long term and reliable source of funding such as a Trust Fund for victims.

Public hearings and dissemination of report to the public.▪

Editorial

By Oryem Nyeko

The French WRITER, Anatole France once said, “All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy.” It is this paradox – that change can be both necessary and painful – that speaks to the human condition that so often wants to express itself.

It has been only three months since the release of the inaugural issue of Voices Magazine but many things have changed within the transitional justice framework of Uganda. The legal implication of amnesty in the Ugandan context appears to be undergoing a subtle evolution as the Supreme Court considers the issue of amnesty.

In the same vein, perceptions on the relevance, content and structure of reparations programmes continue to evolve – the International Criminal Court, for example, recently made a significant pronouncement on the issue of reparations in its decision on the former Congolese war lord Thomas Lubanga Dyilo (“What the ICC Decision on Reparations Means for Gender Justice”, page 19).

For the reason that it is currently at the centre of transitional justice debates in Uganda and in other post-conflict societies, the topic ‘reparations’ was chosen as the theme of the second issue of Voices,

Many are not too sure of the true significance of reparations – what does it mean for Uganda and other societies in a state of transition? Is it something people want? Does it mean the same thing for everyone? With the objective of sharing victim centred views we at JRP sought the actual position. In doing so and through our interaction with victims of the conflict we have found that, to use a borrowed phrase, reparations are the ‘language victims are speaking’.

Some individuals have formed collectives to fight for compensation for the damage they have suffered to their bodies (“The Day Everything Changed”, page 30), women have expressed their unique perspective on what they think reparations should involve (“Ododo Wa”, page 15) and  as surprising as it may be, a humble animal – the goat – may be one of the answers to the challenge of reconciling Northern Uganda (“Goats for Reconciliation”, page 27).

But how should reparations be administered, and is the Government of Uganda setting an appropriate precedent with the ones it has given out? (“Reparations, Not Handouts”, page 28).

With that said, JRP too has experienced the contradiction that is change. Over the last few months, sad good byes were said to members of the JRP family, while a set of new faces – myself included – were warmly welcomed. As we look to the future, we have to concede to the inevitability of change. It is a part of life, but what its impact will be on our lives, and the future of the country remains to be seen.▪

Letter from the PC

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the second edition of Voices Magazine. The aim of this magazine is to serve as an avenue for the victims we at the Justice and Reconciliation Project often engage with to narrate the diverse forms of experiences they underwent during the conflict. It is also an opportunity to communicate to those who need to pay attention and take action on their ordeals. In this edition, the focus is on reparation for victims of conflict.

The government of Uganda through the Justice Law and Order Sector (JLOS) has taken significant steps to ensure that transitional justice concerns affecting the country are brought to the attention of government through the Transitional Justice Working Group. Of recent, under the International Crimes Division of the High Court (ICD), particular attention has been paid to how to hold perpetrators accountable for their actions. However, as much as such efforts are vital, less attention has been paid to  the Uganda Government’s efforts by way of reparations for the victims.

Clearly, both prosecutorial and the reparative efforts can be considered elements of justice, but the latter has not received sufficient systematic attention apart from the often sporadic political gestures and empty promises made to victims of conflict, such as those at Barlonyo, Mukura, and most recently Atiak, following political campaigns and political speeches.

It is worth emphasising that from the standpoint of victims, reparations occupy a special place in the move towards sustainable peace and development, especially in restoring the eroded confidence in government due to failures prior to and during the Northern Uganda conflict.

As you will read in this edition, for some victims reparations could offer the most tangible manifestation of the efforts of the state to remedy the harms they have suffered. Criminal justice, even if it were completely successful both in terms of the number of perpetrators accused (far from being the case in any transition) and in terms of results (which are always affected by the availability of evidence, and by the persistent weaknesses of judicial systems, among other factors) is, in the end, a struggle against perpetrators rather than an effort on behalf of victims (see Pablo De Greiff, ‘Repairing the Past: Compensation for Victims of Human Rights Violations’ pp 1-3). Any transitional justice process for Uganda therefore runs a risk of being considered by victims as an empty gesture – cheap and without any relevant meaning to victims. As expressed by one youth during a focus group discussion: “We youths are fed on the same stories every other time. We are told government is doing a lot to arrest Kony and yet we are tired of waiting, tired of promises and tired of anything that does not bring us food on the table. We can never forget what we went through unless we are compensated for time lost because our parents are long gone.”

The efforts to establish a truth telling body as recently embarked on by JLOS is welcomed, because it promotes a sense of closure and recognition of those who suffered, but in the absence of tangible benefits victims will always feel a sense of injustice because of their suffering. While looking back at the atrocities committed in West Nile for instance, in the article ‘When Killers are Rewarded’, Veronica recalls her narrow escape from the hands of her tormentors, and yet to date is yet to come to terms seeing her tormentors walk free while benefiting from a USD 4.2 million donor project. This, among other articles you will read in this issue, raises some perplexing concerns as to how to ensure reparation complements other transitional justice processes without hurting the victims – while at the same time addressing the demobilisation and reintegration concerns of perceived perpetrators.

In the end, decades of armed conflict in the northern Uganda has left victims without the acknowledgement of their suffering and without the means to deal with the consequences. As views published in this edition suggest, reparation when accompanied by other transitional justice mechanisms, will fill a special space for victims of conflict in Uganda.

I wish to thank JRP staff and all the contributors to this edition. Please enjoy your reading until we meet again in the next edition.▪

Boniface Ojok

My Acholi Lesson

By Michael Robinson

It took Stephen about 20 minutes to teach me the proper pronunciation of “ny” and “ng” in Luo. The first time I met Stephen I butchered “what is your name?” in Acholi. “In nyingi anga?” is what I should have said.

It sounded more like, “innyingini Hannah?”

Stephen and all the people from the Justice Reconciliation Project laughed as I continued to struggle with something so basic. “If you just give me 30 minutes to teach you, I’ll have you speaking Acholi,” Stephen shouted across the table.

I took him up on the offer thinking: There’s no way.

Sure enough, 20 minutes into the lesson, we were stuck on “In nyingi anga?” Or as I now had it: “Angagyiniangna?” I thought for sure I had stumped the teacher. Stephen scratched his chin as he contemplated his defeat. “Tomatoes!” he said. “‘Tomato’ in Acholi is ‘Nyanya’ can you say nyanya?”

Nyanya?” I said, “Nyanya!” I got it. “Ny” became simple (although “ng” still gives me trouble) with the help of Stephen, who volunteered his entire morning to teaching me Acholi and the rest of the afternoon to enduring my chant: NYANYA! NYANYA! NYANYA!

As much as Acholi words escape me, English words could not help me describe how I simply cannot fathom what it would be like to be abducted at age nine, forced to be a soldier at age nine, forced away from my home and into the bush, as a child.

I tried to imagine it from Stephen’s younger brother’s perspective: what if my older brother was taken in the night? What if for three years, he was held captive away from me and forced to commit crimes against his own people? Would I consider him my enemy? Would I think about him every night and wish beyond all measure for his safe return?

It is heartbreaking and nearly impossible for me to fully comprehend.

Before I arrived in Uganda, I had done a fair amount of studies regarding the recent conflict, yet nothing was making it real to me. I found myself falling into this strange paradox of knowing about the conflict, being informed about the terror involved in the two-decade long war, and being aware of the struggles of post-conflict rebuilding, but of not really making the connection that there are people my age, people older than me, even people younger than me who are actually here, available to teach me Acholi and eager to share their experiences. These people have endured the conflict, persevered through the terror and are struggling in the post-conflict stage.

It was truly a personal breakthrough in my academic studies, not to mention my personal outlook on life, to simply meet those involved with JRP. It was an honour to see their work, and realise just how important it is.

Stephen and those at JRP taught me more than just “nyanya!” they have taught me how to look past the words on a page and see the beautiful, intelligent and brave people who have been adversely affected by conflict. But not just to see them or empathise with them, but struggle with them in hopes of a better future for all Ugandans.▪