Last Friday morning (July 8, 2005) I happened to catch a National Public Radio report about the war in Northern Uganda and its effect on the current generation of children. This civil war started when we lived in Sudan in 1986 and was a large part of our work for peace in Uganda in the 1990’s. Then, as now, a military solution is not working and the only result has been the destruction of the lives of children caught on the front lines between the rebels and government soliders. It is estimated that possibly 20,000 children have been captured by the rebels since 1986. Commentator Leroy Sievers suggests the solution to this crisis lies at the peace table. He points out that “ending the war may not be strategically important, it is morally imperative.” Listen to the NPR report.
Below is the letter I wrote to my mother on Mother’s Day 1997 from Uganda remembering the lives of young women abducted in this civil war. Their lives and the lives of the nuns who are still there working and teaching are not forgotten.
Dear Mother:
Some things in my life I will never forget. I will never forget the way you wept on the day I left for six years in Africa. At that moment, I caught a glimpse of how much a mother could love a daughter.
Last week, I met two Ugandan women I will never forget. In October last year, Ugandan rebels broke into St. Mary's Women's College in northern Uganda and abducted 149 young women, intending to march them to Sudan. The headmistress, an Italian nun, gathered as much money as she could and followed the rebels into the bush. She pleaded with them to release the girls in exchange for money. The rebels were not interested. She offered herself in exchange for the girls. They refused. The rebels then decided to sort through the abducted girls, keeping the "tall, light-skinned, beautiful ones" and releasing the other 119 to the nun.
The two Ugandan women I met last week had their first-born daughters among the 30 girls who were not released. They were marched to Sudan and have since become "wives" of the rebels. The Catholic community now holds a day of prayer on the first Saturday of each month with the parents of those young women. They also remember the many other young girls and boys abducted over the past 10 years. These children were forced to become rebels' "wives" or sold as slaves. We've heard estimates of 3,000 Ugandan children abducted in this way in northern Uganda.
There is much in this world I will never understand. I will never understand man's inhumanity to man. I will never understand fully a mother's love for her child. I will never understand what it is like to lose a child to death or to crazed rebels.
I am thankful for this one thing this Mother's day: that you will never know what it is like to have your 14-year-old abducted by rebels--to wonder if she is alive or dead, to wonder if she has been raped, to wonder if she has been forced to kill in order to stay alive, to wonder if she will be caught in a cross-fire between rebels and government soldiers. I am blessed knowing that no matter how I die at this point in my life, even if I die a violent death, you have seen your first-born daughter live, laugh and love. You have been her friend, advisor and confidant. You have celebrated her marriage, and you've watched her walk with God on this earth.
I will never give birth to a daughter, but maybe I can learn how to love my nieces and other "daughters" as those nuns love. Maybe I can give my life to pray, fast and work so that all daughters in this world will only see peace and goodness.
Sincerely,
Pam
This article was distributed by Mennonite Central Committee in April, 1997. Pam Ferguson and her husband, Ron, directed MCC's Uganda programs from 1991-1997.
Below is the letter I wrote to my mother on Mother’s Day 1997 from Uganda remembering the lives of young women abducted in this civil war. Their lives and the lives of the nuns who are still there working and teaching are not forgotten.
Dear Mother:
Some things in my life I will never forget. I will never forget the way you wept on the day I left for six years in Africa. At that moment, I caught a glimpse of how much a mother could love a daughter.
Last week, I met two Ugandan women I will never forget. In October last year, Ugandan rebels broke into St. Mary's Women's College in northern Uganda and abducted 149 young women, intending to march them to Sudan. The headmistress, an Italian nun, gathered as much money as she could and followed the rebels into the bush. She pleaded with them to release the girls in exchange for money. The rebels were not interested. She offered herself in exchange for the girls. They refused. The rebels then decided to sort through the abducted girls, keeping the "tall, light-skinned, beautiful ones" and releasing the other 119 to the nun.
The two Ugandan women I met last week had their first-born daughters among the 30 girls who were not released. They were marched to Sudan and have since become "wives" of the rebels. The Catholic community now holds a day of prayer on the first Saturday of each month with the parents of those young women. They also remember the many other young girls and boys abducted over the past 10 years. These children were forced to become rebels' "wives" or sold as slaves. We've heard estimates of 3,000 Ugandan children abducted in this way in northern Uganda.
There is much in this world I will never understand. I will never understand man's inhumanity to man. I will never understand fully a mother's love for her child. I will never understand what it is like to lose a child to death or to crazed rebels.
I am thankful for this one thing this Mother's day: that you will never know what it is like to have your 14-year-old abducted by rebels--to wonder if she is alive or dead, to wonder if she has been raped, to wonder if she has been forced to kill in order to stay alive, to wonder if she will be caught in a cross-fire between rebels and government soldiers. I am blessed knowing that no matter how I die at this point in my life, even if I die a violent death, you have seen your first-born daughter live, laugh and love. You have been her friend, advisor and confidant. You have celebrated her marriage, and you've watched her walk with God on this earth.
I will never give birth to a daughter, but maybe I can learn how to love my nieces and other "daughters" as those nuns love. Maybe I can give my life to pray, fast and work so that all daughters in this world will only see peace and goodness.
Sincerely,
Pam
This article was distributed by Mennonite Central Committee in April, 1997. Pam Ferguson and her husband, Ron, directed MCC's Uganda programs from 1991-1997.
posted by Pam at 10:09 PM
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