The sometimes inadvertent power of friendship

Why is it that we tend to be the hardest, and sometimes the cruelest, to the people we are closest to? I tend to think (or at least this is my excuse) that it is because we wish the best for them and therefore are willing to take the risk of upsetting them in the hopes that in the end it will be for the best. The problem arguably lies however with the fact that as we grow closer to a person, be they family, boyfriend or friend, we increasingly get to know exactly what to do in order to make that person incredibly happy, as well as incredibly miserable. I have found that there is a delicate balance one must take with those we love. As a person closest to them, we have a responsibility to be honest with them and yes, sometimes this honesty hurts. However we also have the obligation to practice caution with the power we inherit over that person’s emotions as s/he grows increasingly comfortable with you. I believe that it is important, for instance, to alert a friend or family member if they are doing something that might be detrimental to their health, future, happiness and so on. As I was reminded recently however, we have to be careful not to push too hard or too hard for too long because honesty or “hard love,” as some call it can too often have the adverse affect of heartache, frustration, or worse yet, depression. In otherwords, albeit with good intentions, in your blurting out of the honest truth, your words may have the inadvertant affect of discouraging your loved one to take the steps forward you so earnestly aspire to encourage them to take.  

Birthday blues...

I know, it sounds juvenile, but birthdays have always been a big deal for me. With the exception of last year (which as truly an amazing birthday) I generally find myself feeling surprisingly lonely when May roles around. I won't go so far as to say that I get depressed, but I defintely tend to feel lonely and have to make a real concerted effort to *try* to cheer myself up. May...and December (Xmas) ...are typically the months that I feel the most separated from my family and close friends. This year has turned out to be no different. I am on a work trip in a small town in rural Uganda with teammates that I unfortunately haven't really gotten a chance to know that well. Tomorrow is my birthday and I can tell you right now it's going to be a rough day...there's an African-style birthday party going on outside of our hotel right now and I can't help but wish I had people in my life who would make such a big deal out my birthday. Happy birthday, stranger...you are one lucky lady. Ooof...really need to shake these blues...

The question of Amnesty

Amnesty: an act of forgiveness for past offences, especially to a class of persons as a whole; a forgetting or overlooking of any past offence.

Amnesty. This is a concept  that I have been struggling with lately, particularly with regards to its potential effectiveness in helping a war torn people/country heal from past atrocities and human rights violations. Currently I am in Uganda, a country that continues to struggle with how to balance bringing LRA perpetrators to justice and how to heal from the violence and trauma the rebel group inflicted. A recent on-line article put the dilemma Uganda faces well, stating: 

"The arrest of a senior Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) commander has reignited debate in Uganda about what to do with alleged war criminals: let them go, to encourage other rebels to surrender; or prosecute them in the name of accountability and justice."

Caesar Acellam Otto

The senior commander the article refers to is a man by the name of Caesar Acellam Otto. As one of Joseph Kony's top commanders, Caesar is directly responsible for the torture, murder and forced recruitment of countless individuals (both children and adults) from northern Uganda. And yet, when questioned during an interview (see New Vision newspaper) following his arrest about crimes against humanity that the LRA committed, he "threw his hands in the air and stated, 'the Ugandan Government passed a Bill in Parliament of blanket amnesty. So all rebels who left the bush before me were granted amnesty. Why not me? Why should I fear?" When Caesar was asked whether he felt remorse for his involvement in the before mentioned human rights offences, he stated, "in the military, there is no word like excuse. Therefore, I cannot apologise."

The UN Secretary-General for Children and Armed Conflict states Caesar and other LRA commanders are "responsible for the most egregious violations committed against children in the central African region." And yet from what I have been reading so far in the UG newspapers and on-line, it seems that even for big-time perpetrators of past violence like Caesar, there is a strong push for amnesty. In other words, Caesar and others would end up getting away with their crimes completely unpunished. I am left wondering how I would feel about such criminals being let go in my community after they've instigated the murder of so many of my compatriots? Would I be able to "forgive and forget" in an effort to recover from the past and obtain peace? I'm honestly not so sure...

Grasshoppers and a Ugandan History Lesson

Yesterday evening till yesterday, I was bed-ridden with God-knows-what bacteria that I had ingested from eating too many grasshoppers, a Ugandan delicacy sauteed with onions and served in small paper bags on the streets of Kampala (so so so scrumptious, but apparently not good for the gastrointestinal system!). This morning, I woke up feeling like a million bucks and, after eating a huge breakfast, decided I must take advantage of my good health and see at least a bit of Kampala on this rare day off.

After a bit of Google-ing, I decided on the Royal Palace of  "the Buganda King," formerly the President of Uganda (Pres Mutesa). The palace belonged to the Ugandan royal family up until 1971 when then Colonol, Idi Amin (under the auspices of then PM Obote), seized the royal palace and forced the Buganda king (or, "King Freddy" as he was affectionately referred) into exile. King out of country, PM Obote pronounces himself the new President of Uganda and promotes the infamous Idi Amin to General and Chief of Staff. This seems to have been the near end of Idi Amin and Obote's friendship however, as Amin thereafter decides to strengthen his position via smuggling and arms sales to S Sudanese rebels and by strengthening his ties to UK and Israeli agents. These actions apparently anger Obote and he demotes Amin to a more non-executive role. When Obote is off in Singapore at a Commonwealth meeting, Amin calls up Obote and tells him (according to my taxi driver, that is), "not to bother returning to Uganda." Amin then declares himself, and I quote, "His Excellency, the President for Life, Field Marshal, Al Hadji Doctor Idi Amin, VD, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Sea, and Conqueror of the British Empire in General and Uganda in Particular." Quite the eccentric guy, wouldn't you agree? Amin then goes on to become the paranoid, monic-depressive monster that we all learnt about through Hollywood's "The Last King of Scotland." He proceeds to kill off those around him, starting first with political opponents seen to be loyal to Obote and then on to the ethnic Acholi and Lango who were imputed Obote loyalists.

Phewwww, anyway, back to the Royal Palace I visited today. Below the palace grounds lie chambers built by the Israelis. These chambers were built by the Israelis under the assumption that they would be used as storage facilities for weapons. Little did they know however, that soon after their construction, the chambers would instead be utilised by Amin (and later on, Obote after his return from exile) as torture chambers for perceived political opponents. On the way over to the palace, my taxi driver told me that  Amin's political opponents were given two choices as to how they would be murdered - either they could choose death by execution, or they could be thrown into the torture chambers where they would die of suffocation and starvation.

Above is a photo of the chambers. As you can see, there are three in number. Upon close inspection, these chambers could maybe fit 100 people each, if everybody stood standing up straight and close together, but apparently victims were thrown in on top of each other because my guide was telling me that hundreds of people were thrown into the chambers at once. With no other means of making their suffering known to the outside world, these victims marked the walls of the chambers with their blood and feces (see photo to the right), either with hand and foot prints, or eerie messages declaring their killer (Amin and later, Obote) by name.

A step down from the chambers was a pool of water of about a foot or two deep. Under this water were electrocution devices that would, when turned on, mean instant death for any poor soul caught inside that pool's shallow depths. According to my guide, Idi Amin used to find great amusement in telling the prisoners that they would be granted freedom if they could only run from the chamber they were incarcerated in to the "safe" grassy area outside. Amin would then watch (with great amusement) as the prisoners would topple over each other in their panicked effort to reach the grass. Amin would then switch on the electricity and kill all those who had decided to make that desperate dash towards freedom. As if that weren't a gruesome enough murder, Amin would then order their bodies to be dumped into Lake Victoria or the neighbouring man-made lake to be then gobbled up by the eagerly awaiting crocodiles.