Anthony Muchoki

Rwodi like Wangari Maathai

©Anthony Muchoki 

Ajm.muchoki@gmail.com

Dedicated to the late Prof Wangari Maathai

ONE: Mama could see 

Life is a song. When you are happy, angry, hungry, worried, vanquished, lonely, unwanted or unloved,  a dish of songs is the best food for the soul. Singing your heart out one can make you live for many years. It can make you manage to bear the most unbearable pain.  That is mama talking. I smile just remembering her words. 

Cecilia Auma. You are your own Rwodi. Just like me. After all we are but two women in this household. So we are our own rulers. We are women.  No amount of pain, no amount of misery, no amount of wickedness will ever bring us down. We can kneel down in obeisance but still that is not surrender. Mama’s  words, had a life of their own, that in turn kept filling life to me every time I touched the land of the dead. A woman never gives up on life. She hangs on, she soldiers on to the sails of wind and time. At the end, her voice will live on.

Mama was a wonderful woman. Her strong voice breaking into the air was always serene and healing. Her tonic melodies were sweeter than the weaver bird’s. Before she became progressively sick, she would wake up very early in the morning and do all her motherly duties. I only realized she was blind when I was around ten years old after she told me to take her to the marketplace. Today, 20 years later, that day seems like a few seconds ago forever nailed in my memory.

She used to stay most of the time within the homestead. She never sought any assistance while at home. She would cook, clean the house and even do some tilling at a times. Many are the times she noted  I was not wearing my shoes correctly or I was not smart. She would tell me what to do to be the most beautiful girl. 

There are hardly any vehicles in the interior Acholiland.  The roads in the interior where we lived were mostly rough terrains, impassable during the rainy seasons. The day I learnt that mama was blind we were walking  along such a rough terrain towards the market.  Then all of a sudden, there was this motorbike that was shooting its way as if in a  highway. I moved aside. My mother panicked as she was trying to hurriedly leave the terrain. She fell into a ditch. I rushed to assist her.  Some ladies walking along the road came also to her rescue.  She broke her ankle. As she was assisted to go back home, I heard some children passing by saying she was blind.   My sweet mother blind? I felt in my throat a big potato of anger boiling in my throat. I jumped at the boy, who had uttered the words. If you ever again abuse my mama, I will make you swallow your own  words, hear me? I barked.   Mama heard the scuffle. She called me. I am blind. I am blind. It is true.  She said. But for you my child, and for your brothers and sisters, I can always see you. I can never be blind. 

Mama blind. I felt my head foxtrot in a strange way.  I felt obsolete and broke down into torrents of tears. I could not control myself. Mama held my hand. She did not reprimand me. Later on she just asked, if I was ashamed of my own mother. How could I? Mother you are my mountain. You are my ocean and great seas. You are the tree of my life mother. I cried because I thought it was the most unfair thing in this world. My mother was in pain. I am crying because I love you. You have been so good a mother though you cannot see. The best mother in the world. 

When I asked my brothers and elder sister if they knew my mother was blind, they said yes. We have known it always. But she is the best mother one can pray God to have. They said. No one in the family wanted to be the first one to break news to me that mama was blind. I adored my mother. Everybody in the family knew it. She was my goddess. They thought I would come to know of it naturally.

As the last born adored daughter by all, I had taken mama’s love and dedication to me for granted. I don’t know why I had never noted she was blind. Maybe, I loved her too much. At times I would even ask her to thread a blouse for me using a needle. I looked at her eyes into her heart and felt forever attached to her. The night came with leopard spots. I did not sleep a wink. No one in the family slept. And my life changed forever. Mama was in great pain. The traditional healer said she would never heal and only gave her medication to ease the pain. Her ankle never healed until her body was swallowed by the greedy earth and the tree of her life blown away to the skies ten years later.

I guess I became an adult at 10. Because after the day I learnt of my mother blindness and also she became progressively sick, I never wanted to leave her side. I would serve her and forfeit everything else. I disagreed with father when he said I would continue with schooling. That meant during the day leaving mother alone at times. Weakly, he saw my point and said soon he would get a helper for mama and I resume studies. That was never to be.

One season later Kony’s men struck , they took away my two elder brothers and a sister.  My father and mother were tied to a big log near the fireplace. They were told to swear support to the freedom movement. That support meant conceding to release their three children or the whole family would be massacred. Is killing innocent people part of freedom, I wondered. Such kind of freedom, I did not want any part of it. All I wanted was my mama’s ankle to heal. All I wanted was happiness with my family, not the freedom being pursued by Kony and his band.

My dad was a strong man. Very experienced with his spear and shield. Before the army invaded the forest, he used to hunt out lions, and sell their skins to traders who came to our home from far and wide. He was known all over Acholiland as the legendry lion killer. Lions used to run away from him. Thrice, he had even killed man eater lions bare handed.  Yet, there he was powerless; Kony’s men treating him like a scam of the earth.  

Otieno, my eldest brother begged Kony’s men to leave father, mother and myself and my sister alone. He said he was going to give his life for Kony, so long as his parents and sisters were left alone. He told them there was no need of tying up my mother as she was blind.  She could not walk as well without support. She had a bone marrow  problem, that tied her up to bed most of the day. The diagonis was made after her ankle was injured.  

Otieno was given a gun butt. Blood oozed out of his mouth. He was told one more word, his brains would be split. We all lay silent, bodies trembling and hearts pounding. A big rat fell from the roof into the band leader’s head. Somehow, he caught the rodent. Holding its neck, he put its head in his mouth. Horrified we saw the man chewing the rodent alive, even as it tried to struggle.  A bat flew over. I saw the last dime of my happiness flow and disappear in the wind. The man told us, that was a show of what the army does to its enemies. Be they from Acholiland or the big man at the statehouse in Kampala.

I had known many children who had been abducted by Kony’s men. In fact, we all lived in fear. Father used to say if he had money we would move out of Acholiland and never come back. The dark night, the night of leopard was here. Now.  Was my family going to survive the leopard’s spots?

Mama and dad took the oath of the Lord’s Resistance Army.  And we did the same. They took all of us to the forest apart from our parents. The band leader promised one of us would be brought back after a few days and the rest would have to join the army, the rest of their lives. 

Mama and dad were told to remain true to the oath; else they would never see their children alive. I could hear the aguish in my mother’s heavy breath. Still we left our mud, rattled hut.  It was in the dead of night. None of us tried to  resist. Even our parents never for once raised their voice to protest. After all, two neigbouring families had been massacred the previous night for resisting to join the army.  Other families that tried to move out of Acholiland were kidnapped along the way. The walls that have ears and mouths used to say Kony’s men were making their dishes out of such people.  

It was always better to do Kony’s bidding than being slashed for hyenas and vultures to get free food. Members of the army were always too quick to cut their real and perceived enemies to pieces. This was done brutally and without mercy. Since the war started, the population of hyenas and vultures had increased tremendously. Other animals including lions had greatly diminished from Acholiland forests. Even the human population was feared to have grown thin by half. No wonder I felt we were better alive than dead. And also at least, my parents had been spared, I thought as we trekked deep in the forest. 

We moved for hours up to morning when we reached a spot where the second oath for induction to the army would take place. Before the ceremony started, we were given a choice as members of the same family. We were told to decide who would go back home to take care of ailing mother. The general said LRA was considerate of our case on humanitarian grounds.

There was nothing to debate among us. My brothers and sister said I was the youngest and I should be allowed back home. Tears overwhelmed me. They loved me so much unanimously without a mite of doubt. We were told to say bye to each other for each person after the oath would be taken to different brigade.  We had heard so many stories. This was like our last supper. We might never see each other again. Tears welled up in all our eyes.  The general told us to be courageous and trust one day, when the war would be over and Kony be made the president all Acholiland families disunited by the rebellion would be reunited.

Because I was going back home, I was not allowed to witness the oat taking ceremony. Pepper was put on my eyes and I was blindfolded. Pieces of cotton wool were inserted in my ears. I could not see or hear what was going on. My eyes full of pain in the darkness of blindfold could only see dark blood flowing like a river. Some vicious animals were attacking us. Father, the expert spearman fought in vigour killing many of the animals. I was proud of him. Then suddenly, somebody put fire on the forest. All of us, as well as the remaining animals started running away for dear life.      

 I woke up at home.  For some seconds I was very happy as I thought the bad dream, the nightmare was over. But when I looked at my mother’s face I recollected everything. The pain in her face told it all. Kony brought more tear to Acholiland than any other person in the community’s history. Hardly any household had  been spared. But the Acholi are courageous people. They hold on to even the dimmest spark of life.

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Two: Thorns in the  voice of my father

One learns to be stalked by death every day, being hunted by the dark and cold voice of tragedies full of thorns while living in the foxy shadows of  Kony’s band. No one is ever sure, what his band at any one time is up to. One day, the men will be like the guardian angel and the next they will be the angel of death massacring not only lives but all the hopes of future. One never knows if like a demon snake, they will emerge from the fireplace or atop the roof when you are inside your hut. Walking anywhere near trees, one never knows when they will land on your back and cut you to pieces or kill all your dreams. That was the curse of my childhood, the curse of Acholiland, the land of my ancestors. 

Many years ago, before the brave men of Acholiland were put in the national army, they only used to fight to protect their land. They did not kill each other. Father used to say in those days it was unforgivable crime to kill your tribesman. Then the white man came, the guns and the army followed by Obote, Okello, Museveni and others to come.  Death started stalking the tribe people. Kony came as a savior but a savior to himself alone. He killed more people from his tribe than anyone else. The freedom he talked about, I did not want it. I did not understand it. Is it freedom to kill hapless women and children? Is it freedom to rape even the weakest women and children? Father too said he did not want anything to do with Kony’s kind of freedom.

At one time I thought my father was the bravest person in the whole world and not even the shadow of Kony could bring him down. He only submitted to the army because he did not want us- his children to be killed.  Many times, he had wanted to go and stop all the madness. It was mother who had always stopped him from going to the deep forest to hunt for Kony the way he used to kill lions. Mother reasoned it would only bring more suffering to our family. On your own, you cannot succeed. You cannot take Kony. He is a force of nature, a flying evil spirit in the form of a man. If you try to take him, he will eat your liver. He will feed vultures with your heart. Then he will came after us. A blind mother cannot offer any protection to her children. Only you. Father of my children can do that. 

After hearing mother’s words, dad at times would take his stool outside the hut and sit in the shadow of mango tree holding his chin for hours. From a distance one would have thought he was enjoying the sight of his small banana plantation, which now was our only economic upkeep. I would go and climb on his back challenge him to play. Only, then I could see some hope rise up in his eyes. The moment I would get tired and go back to the hut to join my mother, dad would go back to his stool, back to his world of lamentation. 

The hand woven, three legged stool, which my mother had beautifully decorated for him with fur from different animals, was a symbol of their flowery love. Seated on that stool, father’s mind burned with images of the war, and the subsequent deaths and misery. If it was not for Kony, Acholiland would be the greatest nation. Before Kony came, before he destroyed even the forest, life was worth living. I was a number one hunter. Can I run away from Acholiland? Even if I make it, anywhere else I go, Acholiman will always be associated with Kony. Would there  ever be life at the end of dark tunnel?

Here is my mother talking. My wife. I promised you so much. I promised to give you so much happiness until your eyes would see. Kony, killed all that. Though you don’t complain, I look at you, I see the pain in your heart, and I cannot bear it. The feelings of powerlessness assail me. Mother could hear dad’s words even when he only spoke them in his heart. 

Mother lost his sight a few weeks after they got married. She was tilling the land when a vicious snake spilled poisonous vapor in her eyes. Dad rushed to her rescue and killed the reptile immediately. He took her to a herbalist but it was too late. Her life was saved but she lost her sight. Men in Acholiland, when met in such a tragedy, they take a second wife and in many instances the woman will be forced back to her parents’ compound. Dad, did not act like the Acholi men. He swore to mama, he would always stand for her, she would make her the happiest woman no matter what.

His reassuring words, the spark of life in his voice kept me going. I listened to his voice, and totally shut out the inner voice in my heart that was telling me to go back to my parents abode and die there. How was I going to be a mother and a wife without eyes? How would I play my duties? Would my husband not eye other women with golden eyes? Many questions confronted my system. But he fastened his hands to my body. Look at me. I am your husband. You will go nowhere. I will take care of you. You are the woman of my life, the pillar of my soul. I have no doubt in you. You will be the best mother to my children. Though you have become blind, just whenever you open your eyes I want you to see my love, my face. And so I clung to his words, holding the hands of his benevolent soul. His spirit would guide me, and he would be my eyes. Tears of love filled me.

Slowly, I adapted to being blind. I learnt to walk without any assistance. When I conceived the first time, I held your father’s hand. I am pregnant. His body became hot and shaky. He held me tight. Thank you my wife. I have endlessly waited for this day. What can I say? The river of joy flowing in my heart is unstoppable. The tree of our love, is now forever secured. The God of Acholiland will guide your heart while I will always be your hands. He held my stomach. I am a father. He said those words so proudly.  I am a father. A child of God. After all, how could an adult man belong to God, the father of all good things without himself being a father? That day, I noted the second spark of his life was born. As I gave birth to the four of you, the roots of the tree of fatherhood became intertwined in his whole system.

A good father creates a safe haven in his heart for his family. Inside the house of his family at his heart, the rivers of joy and trees full of bliss fruits encompassed it walls. He gives his wife and children full access to the plenty of his garden. He cannot go to sleep, without watching over his children. I learnt all this from your father. I know this sounds mockery, but your father was like a second God to me. Knowing there was the almighty God of all providence and having my husband next to me, I always felt as if two Gods were taking care of me.   

When your second brother was born general Odong Latek paid us a visit. He was a friend of your father before he joined the Kony army. He told your father time had come for him to join the army. As an accomplished man of spears, he said your father could be useful to struggle for freedom in training. After many hours of haggling, the man left him alone. But this was after he paid him all the money we had and twenty diamond rings he had traded long time ago with lion skins. We were left penniless, for poverty to strangle us considering no more lions were available in Acholiland. Latek promised we would be safe from Kony’s men as long as he was alive. The beastly man kept his word. But when he died, Kony’s band struck.

Mother said all that brevity evaporated in the dying forest the moment we were taken away by Kony’s men. The day you were taken to forest, the whole night your father was crying. He had never been like that. That day, I touched his cold tears. I touched the pain in his heart. I felt that pain slowly dismantle his spirit. His breathing was hard. I could feel thorns in his voice and its usual fire was dead cold. The house of bliss in his heart was falling.  And his brave hands could do nothing. Even after you were brought back from the forest two days later, the spark of life which used to be emitted out of his system did not come back. But at least, we became the remnants of his happiness.

Too much bodily pain and heartache can easily lead one to despair forever. But the knowledge that I am a mother and more than ever my children need my guidance made me to hang on as I watched, the fire in my husband’s body burn out.  This was only a few weeks after our children were abducted. I could easily have given up and joined the wind with him, but I refused.  My body and soul was burning in pain, I could barely move my body. Yet I gathered courage as my husband left to join the ancestors, I held his hands. 

I failed you, the woman of my life. I failed to protect my children. There is no fighting spirit left in me. All the roots of my tree are on fire. The river of my soul has dried up. I cannot make you see anymore. I cannot bear the thought of what the murderous Kony is doing to my three children. Let me close my eyes. All I can pray, is for Cecilia Auma to inherit my heart. Woman, you are your own  Rwodi, bye.  Those were his last words. 

It was in the dead of night, when the spirits of the ancestors takes up cases with the living. Weaverbirds started crying viciously. It started raining hard. A hyena from the distance was laughing. Crickets were ringing bells. The wind was blowing hard. And strange dirges could be heard from afar. With precipitations I touched his eyes, holding my breath. He closed his eyes. I held his silent pulse. Murderous thunders filled the air. And his spirit flew out. He was no more.

You were the bravest man ever. It was in your face that I could ever see my children. You were a good man, almost perfect. May you find peace and happiness in the afterlife. May the best juice in the afterlife follow you, may the wings of bliss fill your new heart.  My feeble hands bade him bye. Peace. My husband. Peace. The man of my life. You were my world. You were my second God. But now you are gone. Gone forever. Never to come back to me.  

 Your father’s face had come to eclipse the darkness in my eyes and slowly it evaporated. I felt a stinging pain in my heart and a new void being set up there.  Haplessly, I felt misty darkness fill up where his light was in my heart. A heavy load descended on, momentarily overcoming my whole system. Lying in the bed next to my dead husband, you came in the room. You called out, father, father.    

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Three: The calabash of life

A mother is a mountain and ocean of love combined. Even if one climbs the mountain every day, as long as life lasts one cannot fully explore all the trees of love that grows there. At least, this is my personal experience.   Every day, you climb the mountain; the experience is new, blissful leaving one with purple desires of life. The warm showers, the floating winds and whispers of leaves – the experience are life.   Even when she rebuked me, her mountain was always of love. Many explosives had been planted in her mountain over years. Thorns had been planted in her plantations but she had overcome all. Bruised yes, but intact. So long as I was in her mountain, I felt I could cross the valley of fire and survive.

Despite being surrounded by the eternal fear of Kony’s band there was always in my heart so much security knowing that I was one of the best part of my mother and father’s world. I learnt to appreciate the spirit of belonging and every moment that we could share together. Every evening, feeling the warmth of the burning fire we shared our day’s experience as we took our meals. Mother had a way of lifting our spirits and forcing us to tell every detail of the day’s activities. Dad, was less talkative but he too always gave an ear to our discussions and sometimes he would offer a word of counsel.  Joined together like that, we were able to momentary forget the misery of the curse of Acholiland.  

 Today, in my dreams I always see my two brothers and elder sisters laughing their hearts out after mama would crack a joke or compose and impromptu song and bell it out in her mellow notes. My sister called those songs rich melon and we all loved them. Actually, it was my mother’s songs that ever put  a smile again on my father from the day Odong Latek took away all his fortunate.   Mother’s songs would light fire. Fire in my heart, fire in the hearts of my brothers and sister. And my father’s heart would glow. His face would shine breaking up   all the old age marks making him look like an eager teenager.  From the day, my father went to the spirit, I never heard my mother sing again.  

Father, father. I called out. There was no answer. Only the cry of my mother sleeping next to my father’s unmoving body could be heard. I had seen so many bodies of people killed by Kony’s band but I never ever thought my dad would ever die. Death of anyone not connected to you by love or blood seems like the distance blue smoky skies. There but so far away. I went and held his lifeless, vanquished body. His strength was no more. His tree of life had gone dry and cold. Crying, I hugged my crying mother. 

Daughter, daughter. We are our own Rwodi. We cannot change anything. The wind has taken him away. The birds have spoken. The word is final. Of all my calabashes of life, only you, Cecilia is left. Only you. We are own Rwodi.  I don’t know what is happening to your brothers and sisters. I don’t know if they are dead or alive. Your father could not bear the pain of thinking your sister being made a sex slave. After all Kony was known to have an eyes for beautiful girls with milk teeth like her. For now mother said, we had to put all thoughts of pain far away and give father a decent burial.

My brothers or my dad used to lift mother effortless out of her bed. For me I was still young with no strength to manage her. I held her hand and painfully she got out of bed. She sat down and I went out to call neigbours’ to help put my father to rest. Villagers came and in his banana plantation dug a grave. As they laid him to rest mama and I were frozen, lost in the abyss of everlasting darkness. There are some losses in life that one can never recover from. I held my mother firm as she made the final intonation blessing my father’s spirit.

I release you to the spirits. I recommend you to the higher life. Go in peace. I have nothing against you. I will not hold you back. You finished your work. You did what you had to do. May your body become the richest soil, that will produce saving bananas that will light up our people. So we put him back to the soil to become our own Rwodi. The villagers sang dirges weakly.  The sun was hot. The skies were clear blue. There was no rain as father’s body was put to soil. All the traditional signs indicated that he was a clean man. Villagers feted him as a great man. An elderly woman told mourners that unless some drastic measures were taken, Acholiland would become the land of the dead. All the strong men had been forced to forest by Kony, others killed and maimed. Young children were being killed. Others were being forced to kill their parents by Kony’s bands. The few brave men are fallen by heartache. The land is full of blood, full of deaths brought by our own brothers. How long will this morbid madness go on?  Will the yellow curse ever leave Acholiland?

Villagers left as the woman made her case. If Kony’s came to know such a thing was being said he would punish the listeners. The lady was too old and felt even if Kony did not kill her, death was on way to meet her.  

The old woman told me not to give up. Stand up for your mother. And when the time comes, go after the man who destroyed your family.  For me, he has killed all my family. I am left alone. My feeble hands cannot fight Kony. And the guys in Kampala, they are as good as Kony. The call him enemy but sell him weapons. The old woman was angry. 

May God remember you, for what you have endured yet you don’t have any bitterness, she said as she left. Slowly, I guided mother back to the hut and into her bed. Of late she had grown so frail, at a time we even had to mouth feed her. Mother. You have been my mountain. You have been my guiding star. Don’t look at how young I am. I will take care of you. So long as you are there, I will do everything to make us our own Rwodi. Maybe it was my father’s sprit that gave me the courage to move on.

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Four: Talking bananas Trees

Childhood in the arms of your mother and father is the free, joyriding life of a butterfly in a large farm of flowers, where the pollen grains flows in the air. With the deep love parents have, a child easy gets securely drunk in their provisions. One never imagines one day the flowers will be gone and the garden desecrated.  

The butterfly left alone or with dry flowers either dies or flies away to the harsh realities of the forest of thorns. The butterfly with faith, the will and steps moves on defying the odds, searching for new self-identity. The murderous journey, where restless spirits reigns, few are able to survive. The feelings that wings of destiny are in your hands and your mother’s life depends on you, no matter the odds the butterfly has to fly. 

Here I was barely a teen; I had to start mothering my frail mother. She could no longer sing. All her bones were in burning pain. Her tree of life was getting dry. But she hang on. For months she refused to cut the string that separates the living and the next life. For me I did what I had to do. I learnt to sing. The same songs she used to sing for us. I sang them for her. My beloved mother. 

At times, her face would glow but never blowing into a full smile no matter how hard I tried to sing for her. I could not give up. One never gives up on a mother. She is the fountain of the tree of your life, if you cut her roots off the spirits of your father will never give you peace. After all, who can be, without a mother? She is only second to God. Her birds, her plants, her shadows emanate stems of continuity for her offerings. Even at the lowest ebb of her life her bird remained extremely strong.

 Hanging on the wings of my mother’s bird, father’s banana trees proved a lifeline for me. There were about 300 trees. I would get ripe bananas from them, collect wild edible roots and make dishes for mama and me.  Mama loved smashed bananas. They were the best for her as she could not swallow hard things. One day, from the banana trees, I felt the voice of my elder brother Ocol talk to me. Though I could not see him, the voice was so distinct. I stood there transfixed.

Auma, the strong one. We are alive. We shall meet when the madness is over. Just be strong. Take care of mama. And may your tree never stop shinning. Tell mother the day will come and we will be reunited. Never put off the fire of hope. Even when, the winds refuse sail, hang on to the ropes father left for you. I will come back. Then he was silent. I looked for him in the plantation. He was nowhere. 

I told mother I had heard the bananas trees talking. My brother is alive. The banana trees said he will come back. Mother get strong, your bird has got many more miles to fly. Ocol is watching over us. Don’t give up the string of life. Wait until Ocol comes back. He will tell you about my sister and brother. The wings of providence have sheltered them from Kony’s evil guns. 

Mother gathered strength. For days, she had not uttered a word. Cecilia. Did you hear the banana trees speak? Will Ocol come back to me? If only, I could hear that voice, if only I could touch his hand. Just one more time, then I will give up all the waters of my river. When your children are taken to the unknown, the pain never eases. The days fly on and the pain increases to unfathomable depths. You try to hold on but the thorn stings your heart. The soul is left bare as the mountain of your life is flattened, completely destroyed. I am holding on to a small thread. If only I can feel Ocol… I have loved you Cecilia, and my spirit blesses you forever. For you have been a mother to me in my smoking days as I wait the last sail though you are my daughter and still a child. All what remains is for me to see Ocol. Her voice trailed off. 

The following morning I went to as many banana trees as possible. I begged the trees to bring my brother to me. I told the winds I wanted to hear Ocol’s voice.  I sang songs to the birds, to take my plea to my brother. Looking up to the skies, I wishes to have wings. And fly to the ends of the forest. And bring my brother to my mama. The first born in Acholiland takes the stool of his father. Mama wanted to personally hand over father’s stool to Ocol.  No. No. I cannot pass it to you. Your brother is alive. He should take it. If I had the strength, I would go and confront Kony. Ask him, where are my children? Who gave you the right to take people children without their families blessings? I would slap him and salivate a thousand curses to the son of evil spirit.

Cecilia. No one has the right to steal others freedom for his own freedom. And no government should say it’s a government if it cannot protect its people. Kampala and its rulers don’t care for Acholiland. Kampala and the ghosts of Okello will always haunt each other. The misery of Acholiland will go on for many years. There are simply too many restless spirits. Spirits of innocent children, women and men killed by Kony’s band or the army in pursuit of Kony. My  child I want to pass your father’s stool to your brother, and tell him to take you out of Acholiland. Even if he does not come back you are your own Rwodi, I still want you to do what has to be done. How can you remain in Acholiland? For what? To be taken away by Kony, raped, misused and when too weak, the evil spirit will kill you? My daughter bring me the voice of your brother. 

My mother spoke the words feebly. I could not bear her pain. Maybe the bananas, the birds or the wind would bring Ocol back. I closed my eyes, waiting for my brother to come.

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Five: My brother flew in the wind

To be born together is to be tied together with invisible sisal ropes. Such ropes are grown and fed by parental bonds. Scattered, the children can feel the web of the bonds that produces pangs of pain when the weaverbirds flies. When that web is cut, there are no words to describe the feelings thereafter. The pain is inexpressible and inerasable. The trees shakes, axes change hands and winds gone mad the inexplicable feeling of pain attaches to the heart like a beast of burden.

Our existence – myself, my  brothers and my sister,  we were a stream bonded together. Our trees of lives were interwoven.    That is why the pain of separation was so acute. The cruel hands of fate, the evil spirit called Kony had broken our web. Our hearts, I felt would at least hold together, the roots we shared would never forget each other.  

With Kony in Acholiland, there would never be any future for the land. Education had stalled. Children could not even venture out to get water from the streams near their homesteads. Every homestead had some missing children. Every homestead could count its dead. Kony had brought so much suffering not only to my family but the whole land. Would the suffering ever end? To keep ways the painful thoughts, I would dream my time away.  

Dreams becomes true, half truths or outright wishful thinking. But at least, they fuel the fire of hope, they water the tree of life, when the other streams are dry. Dreaming, sometimes I could even feel my sister in the air. I would close my eyes and see the azure blue skies bringing Ocol back to our hut. He would be holding my elder sister and my other brother heroically after defeating Kony and his band. 

We would be reunited. Mama would go to her permanent home happily. The spirit of my father would be atoned. Then we would have a new beginning, a new future.  The whole of Acholiland would break into new songs of freedom- the kind, where the trees of life are watered for posterity. The drums for appeasing the spirits would be beaten all over. Sacrifices would be made for the innocent people killed, whose spirits were in the air waiting for answers and appeasement.   The land of my ancestors would be cleansed. Dreams, dreams….

I was spoon feeding my mama when I felt his presence. I  felt my heart beat faster and faster. I turned back. Ghostly thin, there he was in heavy, oversize combat gear. He was holding a heavy gun.  His face was a burning rage I had never seen before. I tried to talk to him. No voice came out of my mouth.  Mother tried to raise her hand. I can smell my son’s presence. Ocol, are you here? Cecilia, is Ocol here? I did not speak. There was long silence. Mother was crying torrents of rivers. Tell me my son the bad news. They killed my other son and daughter. Let me go to the spirits with the truth in my heart. 

My eldest brother spoke. Mother you did your best. Forever, we shall be grateful to you. You were my mountain and dad was my ocean. The cruel jaws of fate stole our happy destiny. My brother is no more. My sister was raped in my presence repeatedly and then she was forced to marry one of Kony’s general. I was told to swallow the blood of my brother after Kony personally strangled him. Else, they were going to kill me as well. I obliged so that I can come and see you mother. 

My brother tried to fight for us. He even managed to shoot Kony. But the son of the devil managed to evade the bullet.  I had to play that I would forever be loyal to Kony. I swore under the blood of my slain brother. He forced me to swear. My brother understands me. I had to do it. And here I am mama. To bring the bad news to you. Forgive me mama.

Mama told me to bring her father’s stool. Holding it, he told my brother to take it from her hands. What happened happened. No amount of my tears can wash the blood of my son from the soils of Acholiland. Protect each other. I am going to join your father. Ocol, you are now a man. The mantle is yours. Go back to the forest. To Kony. When the time is ripe, do what you have to do for your father, brother and sisters.  And you, Cecilia I will only tell you that you are your own Rwodi. Don’t give up. May you find the milk of happiness stolen from your childhood. The day will come. The winds of stones will stop and new rains shall fall from cleansed skies.

Then just like that, she gave up. Mother took her last breath. Her bird noiselessly flew out of the window. It would never come back. Outside it was misty. Inside the hut, it was stinging cold. Dark clouds gathered in the horizons blocking the flare of the moon. Mother’s  tree, now completely dry and vanquished fell down.  Her body, with no more pain, no more misery was now at peace.  My brother held my hand. He dried the tear welling in my eyes. You are the strong one. Don’t cry. Mother has gone to peace, to new life. Her new tree and bird in the next life will be  a marvel I can bet. That is my brother, always assuring. 

He dug a grave next to where we buried father’s remains. We laid Mama to rest. The two of us. Before, we covered the grave, I held her hands. Mama. I will be true. To you. All my life. Thank you for you were always a worthy mother. Then I let her go. Peace Mama. And we covered her grave and soon it started raining.   

My brother had to go back to the forest. Auma. You are your own Rwodi. When my mission is complete, I will come back. Pretend you are a mad woman after the death of our mother. That way, no member of Kony’s army will ever touch you. That is the only way to save yourself. When the time comes, I will come and take you. He gave me a small radio and a bag full of money. Use the cash sparingly. It could be many years before we meet again. Daughter of Gods, you are on your own. And he was gone. He flew in the wind. The bananas threes took him away. I feel into a deep loneliness, a deep longing that I had never felt before. 

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Six: Whispers of fire

The moon emerges high in the skies like a twisted ripe banana out on unknown mission, like the species of bananas that look so delicious but are highly toxic. Woe to you if you put them in your mouth, they eat you. And just like the false bananas, sometimes the moon, though looking serene contains a speck, some magic, some wad, which causes men and women to run mad. 

When the moon brings lights to the sky and earth, good men and women become extra careful not to commit sins against the spirits. Almost all animals, even the wise cat, hide when the pregnant sky spews out the moon in full bloom.  For dogs, when they  see the moon, they cow, cry and rave in agony. At a homestead protected by dogs, thieves and evil spirits strike during the moony season.  

In Acholiland, when they say one has seen the moon, they mean one has gone bolt and nuts. The moonlight beams one’s head if you venture outside the hut at moony night, when the spirits are angry.  Who can tell when the unseen creatures are happy or sad?  At the same time, the moon, unlike other stars, it contains a hidden ray that comes out once in a while. If you are unfortunate enough, when the evil ray hits your face, you take the rags. No wonder even Kony’s band will only attack during the dark nights. It is believed the spirits are partly blind and only the moon opens their doors of sight. 

I ventured out at night. The moon was there majestically surrounded by smiling stars. I wished for the speck of madness to hit me. My head was spinning looking at the face of my dead mother and father. Looking at the face of my brother, his stone cold face, his iron voice commanding me. I saw all the three in the moon. They were looking at me. And the speck did not  strike. How was I going to play mad?

Back to the hut, I heard some noises outside. Kony’s men. My heart was beating drums. The men, when they venture out in the moon, it means it is a mission that is matter of life and death. It is very expensive as they have to drink a certain oil that comes from a deep forest in Congo. They believe, the oil is able to confuse spirits during moony nights. 

 I could hear their whispers. Whispers of deadly cold fire. The fire of death. They were arguing who would start to rape me. Someone with a commanding voice said it did not matter who was to start.  All what mattered was that I was going to be the sacrifice to bind them together. After raping her, we shall drink her blood and take the 10^th oath. After hearing those words I quickly removed my clothes and put on sisal rags. I started singing.

I am the Acholi bee

That stings testicles of evil

With no fear

I turn men to pigs 

And sell them to the spirits

Welcome to my house

Then I changed to another tune. 

I will take Acholiland to a new world 

I will save Acholiland. 

All the spirits of our ancestors are with me. 

I will not stop. 

No one will stop me

Five years from now, I will take Acholiland to a new world

Then I started rambling talking to gods as I walked outside the hut. Kony’s men were there transfixed.  In utter bewilderment they just looked at me. Fearlessly, in the power of my brave brother, I went close to them. Looking at each of them straight in their eyes, I laughed, they laughter of mad woman. 

Do you remember the days, men used to say every woman was a potential mad person? She is nuts, they said. In our land if a man sleeps with a mad woman her madness enters into his soul and he can never be healed. We cannot rape her. Even though Kony ordered us to, we cannot. Kony will kill us. It is better to be dead than mad. Ho. Ha. Ho. Ha. They argued as I continued with my mad antics. 

Let us teach the mad girl some lessons. One of them said. They put my father’s hut on fire. My house. My world . My family. My history. My heritage. All gone. Most of my family’s earthly possessions reduced to fire, I was left just holding the radio set and the rag with the money my brother had given me.

I started climbing a banana tree. Suddenly, they started cutting the banana trees. They ravaged all my father’s bananas. I felt as if they were cutting me. Then they saw a fresh grave.  The grave of my mother.  They started digging it up. The reached my mother’s diminished body. A deadly chill ran through my spine. According to Kony, one of them said, if you miss a rape target, you rape the next woman you come across. We gonna rape her dead mother. I tore my clothes and dared any of them to touch her. I will rape you too I shouted. And started following one of them. He ran away. I followed another he ran away. All of them ran away.

It was a lot of work putting back my mother in the soil. I don’t know how many hours I took and how many gallons of tears I shed. I forgot I was naked.  And I did not hide, even when in the morning some men and women passed near the path to our house and stared at me. She has seen the moon, they whispered. If you ever tell anyone of me, you too will see the moon, I told them. They hurried away too, as the sun started eating up my skin.

I knelt down and kissed the grave of my mother. You were the best woman of all women. You did not let me down mother. And in your death, I will not let you down. Then I stood up and walked away from the site. Then I sat down under a big tree. I put on the small radio. It was time for news.  

The mother of trees Wangari Maathai is dead.  So she was now with my mother.  I felt new power. The power of trees. I would be like her. I would plant trees all over Acholiland. Trees that Kony and his band will never be able to cut. I would do it. I would defeat Kony somehow.

End