LRA: Local Initiatives

Africa, Documentary, Lord's Resistance Army, LRA, Photojournalism

As I mentioned in my previous post the stories I witnessed surrounding the complexities the LRA have brought to DRC will be posted in different parts. This is partly because there is so much to tell that for the amount of time it takes me to upload the photos here in Goma I would suffer several cuts in the internet, and I don’t have the patience for that.

So with the previous post’s reality of the situation a rather distressing slap in the face, and with the next post quite possibly a rant on the ludicrousness of the situation this is a rather more positive one.

Conciliation Resources recognises the abilities of the local organisations – Women’s Organisations, Civil Societies and organisations run by local religious leaders (for example the CDJP – Commission of the Diocese for Justice and Peace).

Above: Two women who run the “Association Protection par L’Enfants” – educating orphans, IDPs, les vunérables, former child soldiers and victims of sexual violence. Below: the store room for all their books and resources. It’s not much.

Their activities are locally born and run, and often with little or no budget, yet being Congolese they understand the lives of the individuals they are dealing with far better than say a great deal of the NGOs and international organisations that come and set up shop in these ‘areas of great need’. They are set up in almost every case (in every case in my – albeit short – experience) by a desire to help their fellow countrymen with an advocacy for better change and to help those that have suffered in whatever way.

Above: Emmanuel Laku, President of the Civil Society in Doruma.

In the case of those in the district of Haut-Uele, Orientale Province almost everything is directly or indirectly related to the presence of the LRA (though not everything would be totally absent without their presence).

So I spent a great deal of my time with the heads of the various women’s organisations and civil societies, and general leaders of the community, photographing their various activities and advocacy in their areas.

Above: Jeanne Lipombo is a 42 year-old widow with six children. She escaped the LRA with her life on the 17th of September 2008. Her husband, the chief of the village was not so lucky. He was killed, and two of their children were kidnapped. One is assumed to be with the LRA still.

She has been living in a few hundred kilometres away in Dungu with her remaining children, and those of her husband’s other wives ever since (polygamy is not unusual in many parts of the DRC). She is now the main provider for the 10 or so children, though some of the older ones are starting to sell in the streets to get a little extra money.

Above: It was Sister Angelique and her organisation “Dynamique Femmes Pour La Paix” that helped her. As well as training her to bake bread for the organisation (for which she is then paid, and the bread sold by others) they got her a job as a maid in the local parish, where her daily duties include washing, ironing, cooking etc.

Below: Lipombo’s children and husband’s children sleep together in one room. It has made a real difference to her life, and those of the children and young men and women she is responsible for.

Above and below: Sister Angelique’s organisation has created a whole host of activities, training and skills programmes to get IDPs and affected persons (predominantly women and youth) to help themselves… even if it’s just enough money to provide food and education for themselves and their families. It includes farming, sewing, and education in mathematics for business.

These are of course small efforts – and it’s been pointed out to me before, (certainly with helping former child soldiers) that training them in simple practical skills like brick making and sewing is never going to help them become a professor or an engineer if that’s what they’d like. But the reality of the situation in DRC and much of Africa is that these people have been born into societies that simply cannot support such dreams. There are naturally exceptions as there are in every walk of life, but at least these little steps in the right direction are being instigated by those who have been brought up in this world, and have a more intimate, if not fuller understanding of what’s needed.

Above: This man, the Reverend Mboligihe Ndalu is the director for Radio Artike, a local radio station with its prime message being of unity and peace. Quite incredibly it’s not been funded with any outside help whatsoever. In each village there is a society set up that collects money or food, or whatever people can afford to donate to keep the radio running. Naturally these are voluntarily, unlike many of the other ‘donations’ seen in the DRC, but people appreciate the station so much that they realise they must contribute in order to keep it running.

It is efforts like these that show that cooperation and collaboration to build an aspect of society is not only possible, but happening right now. It is the glimmer of hope that needs to be seen in a country that has been ‘shrouded in darkness’.

It is local enterprises (I suppose you could call them) like this radio that Conciliation Resources are looking to help, providing funding as well as direction for sensitizing the population to how they should welcome back former LRA members. The vast majority were, of course, forced into this army, and though many of them killed their own kind it was not through their own choice.

The Civil Societies and religious organisations help greatly in providing what support they can to combat these problems, improving lives for affected citizens (all of them to some extent) and IDPs and coordinating peacebuilding efforts.

Above: Aruna, head of the Civil Society in Dungu has a hand in most local peacebuilding activities. Obviously this is a broad term but I witnessed him interviewing Esperance, a young girl who had been with the LRA for over two years, and forced to marry a commander. Below: Esperance and her family watch the video recording I made of Aruna interviewing her.

Below: Abbe Jean-Claude, of the CDJP in Dungu.

Above: Father Ernest leads a local coordination meeting.

Meanwhile there is still much to be done – these organisations are hugely limited by resources and effectively trained staff. With a controlled outside input their effectiveness could really be felt.

Finally I’ll leave you with one of the last images I took during my three weeks. In Dungu I was put up by the Catholic Priests and in Doruma by the Nuns at the Convent. It seems in almost every remote and dangerous outpost in DRC that these peoples are pillars in the community, and usually the only places with accommodation reasonable and safe enough for temporary visitors like myself to stay at. Here is one of the nuns cooking in the kitchen. Naturally there’s no electricity.

LRA: Interview with a young abductee

Africa, Documentary, Lord's Resistance Army, LRA, Photojournalism

For the past three weeks I have been in Haut-Uele, Orientale province in the northeastern part of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). It has been plagued by escapees of the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) – a group of Ugandan rebels led by one Joseph Kony. Over 25 years ago this former choir boy formed the group with the plan of overtaking the Ugandan government and ruling by the 10 commandments.

Now dispersed across northern Uganda, the newly-independent South Sudan, Central African Republic  (CAR) and the DRC, they have been causing widespread destruction – massacres, rape, abductions, mutilations, lootings, and caused hundreds of thousands of people to flee within their own country – Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs).

Contact with them is impossible, there are three official armies after them (FARDC – Congolese Army, UPDF – Ugandan People’s Defence Force sent simply to kill/bring back Ugandan rebels, and MONUSCO troops – UN peacekeepers), and no one is even sure of the numbers. I recently spent time with the UPDF – I’ll be posting more about the military roles later, but I thought I’d quickly add a photo of myself with a group of their guys. Compared to the FARDC they were extraordinarily friendly and more than happy to be photographed.

There are a plethora of problems in the situation, many linked to denial by authorities and the general situation of the country, and I will be talking more about them in time, but for this post I will simply post a recent interview with a recent abductee.

His name is Faustin Mboligbihe, meaning “God has heard” in Kisande. He was with the LRA for over a year and is now back with his family in an IDP camp outside the large village of Doruma. I went with Pere Ernest, one of my guides, local experts in the situation and translators in the area. He was not at his hut and his grandmother told us he just goes off without telling anyone. We walked through the settlements for 10 minutes and found him not too far away, playing on his own with a stick.

He agreed to be interviewed and came back to his hut with us. He is eleven years old. He sat partly in the dark, in a ragged t-shirt, turning sharply every now and then to the clink of pots and pans outside. His eyes and face showed no emotion, and it was impossible to read how he felt about the situation.

Pere Ernest conducted the interview – I played no role other than filming and recording. Pere Ernest’s words are in italics, Mboligbihe’s are in bold unless stated otherwise. The translations are as close to literal as makes sense. It is also worth bearing in mind throughout the interview that Mboligbihe is just 11.

Pere Ernest: What’s your name?

Faustin: My name is Faustin Mboligbihe.

How old are you?

I don’t know my age.

Faustin’s mother (from outside the hut): You are eleven.

I am eleven years old.

How did the LRA abduct you?

They abducted me early in the morning, before light.

Where was it?

In the house.

Were you alone?

No we were two.

Did they go with all of you?

No they left the other one.

Which year was this?

The time of growing rice. They went with me and applied their medicine on me. Then we lived with them for a time and then we were attacked by the UPDF. We fought and then after that I stayed with them for a long time and afterwards I came out at Dunde.

Was it in Dunde that they captured you?

No they captured me in Bwere (Bangadi).

How long did you stay with them?

I stayed a long time, but I’ve come out recently.

When you were with them what did you see?

What I saw was they were just killing people.

How were they killing people?

With sticks (like clubs).

How did they do it?

They were hitting their heads with it.

Were other children also beating people’s heads?

Yes.

Since you have come out, what’s coming to your mind?

My head is getting angrier and angrier more often.

How does it get angrier?

When somebody tells me to do something, I just get angry at them.

Do you still do what they ask anyway?

Sometimes I do.

When you came out where did they take you to?

They took me to COOPI (Italian NGO) then they took me to the hospital.

How many weeks did you stay with COOPI?

I didn’t pass one week there.

What did they give you?

They gave me one shot and two t-shirts with a pair of sandals. After that nothing.

In the bush how were you living?

We were eating once a day and once at night.

Where were you getting the food from?

The food was looted.

Were you participating in looting too?

No, them they were looting, us, we were carrying.

Were they many?

I didn’t count them, they abducted me in one group and then to make numbers we joined another group. Another two groups joined us later – four groups. There were many.

You were just wandering in the bush?

Yes.

How were you sleeping?

In the evening we found a place to sleep and when the morning comes we would move on.

The witchcraft they put on you, where did they put it?

They put it on my forehead, in my palms and on my back.

They told you it was for what?

I don’t know.

They didn’t tell you?

Yes.

How did you come out?

I crept away at night.

How?

They had crossed the main road with me and we slept the other side of the road. Then I crept away and came back on the main road.

They didn’t follow you?

No they didn’t follow me because they knew soldiers were around.

As you came back to the main road what did you do?

I was following it Northwards, then I found the FARDC. They took me to Diagbio (a village) and said I should show them where I’d come from. So we went. I passed two days in Diagbio. Then they took me to the (Doruma) airport. I stayed there two days too then they took me to the hospital where I stayed for one week before going back home.

When you came back home do you see anything that you are not happy with?

Nothing.

What do you want to be done for you?

I don’t know.

Are you studying?

No.

Do you want to go back to school?

I would go.

In the bush with the LRA, were there a lot of children? What were they doing?

Just carrying things.

Were they just carrying things without carrying guns?

Some were carrying guns.

And you, were you carrying a gun?

No, just carrying things.

And the children, were they killing people?

Yes, they were killing people. They are telling you to kill, and if you don’t kill, then they will kill you.

How were they killing these people?

They were hitting their heads with the sticks.

And were you seeing it?

Yes, I was.

And you, did you kill?

They asked me to kill. And I killed. If I hadn’t they would have killed me.

<long pause>

They were speaking which language?

Acholi.

Do you understand Acholi?

Yes.

How did they say “good morning” in Acholi?

Tchi.

And “how are you”?

Seneeh.

How do you say “no problem”?

Tie Mabe.

Do you know to speak Acholi?

Yes, I do.

Are you afraid that they will come and kidnap you again?

Yes I am.

What makes you fear most?

When I hear about them I am scared.

Is there anything else you want to tell me?

<pause>

I don’t have soap to wash my clothes.

How much is it?

I don’t know.

OK, thank you for speaking to us.

(Pere Ernest gives him 1000CF – just over 1 USD – to buy soap).

It is also worth noting that Pere Ernest presses the point about speaking Acholi as that is the Ugandan language used by the LRA. You would only know it well (as Mboligbihe does – he can speak it almost fluently we discovered afterwards) if you had spent a good deal of time with them.

Mboligbihe’s family prepare dinner without him. He often just wanders off for long periods of time without saying anything.

Pere Ernest is worried: “He’s dangerous. He’s had no therapy and because he’s already killed at such a young age he needs help coming to terms with that. It needs to be dealt with properly, and at the moment he’s an angry young boy living in an IDP camp where tensions are often high due to their poor standard of living and being far from home. He’s a walking time-bomb, and there’s no-one around that will help him.”