I had a great journey to the Southern Sudanese border last Thursday. It was not so much about the visit to Nimule but my experience on the way from Gulu through Amuru District on to Bibia border post on the Ugandan side.
Amuru was once a rebel infested district and driving through was extremely dangerous. A colleague was shot dead and his car burnt while from a field trip such as the one I was on from Adjumani district to Gulu through Amuru. Thank God the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) has been subdued and pushed to the jungles of Central Africa Republic by Uganda government troops and they now pose no or little threat to the security of northern Uganda.
The last time I drove down this road, I stopped at what was the largest displaced people's camp a at the height of the insurgency; Pabo camp. This time round though, I drove down to a place called Atiak and then to Bibia. The landscape was generally flat Savannah grassland like the rest of north and north east Uganda with very few homestead along the road. Even though peace has returned to this area, many people still prefer to stay together in the centers rather than return to the former or establish new homesteads. Probably the fear of the return of the notorious LRA haunts them or they are too traumatized to go back to homes where they saw their loved one s slaughtered, raped or abducted.
I met two ineresting war traumatized boys at Atiak of about age 10. While the two walked aimlessly talking, singing and begging they still had a pleasant human side to their life, even a good sense of humor. One boy spoke on Acholi, the local language and the second boy spoke both Acholi and fluent English. While one of the boys just begged for money and food items one after another with a sheepish smile after receiving just before asking for another, the other boy said thank you, laughed aloud, gave out the biscuit he had bought with the money he had begged me and walked away singing and laughing.
I asked my self, "What is the point?" He begged for five hundred shillings to buy biscuit which he got, bought it and immediately gave away after saying thank and laughing aloud. Well, I cannot answer but I was humbled by his generosity.
Further down the road were some other war returnees chafing at logs with locally made chisels in an emerging trading center of wattle and straw huts. The people here who are mainly young men in their twenties are making stools and pestles from wood and other are selling charcoal as part of income generating activities in this very rural and poor war ravaged district of Amuru in notghern Uganda. Both the stools and the bags of charcoal are going for about ten thousand Ugandan shillings (U$5).
I bought two stools and two bags of charcoal and by the time I got to Gulu I was being trailed by an old lady who begged me to sell her my stools. She had really fallen in love with these artistic pieces that I had intimated to my friend would envied by many townsfolk. I was right and just had to let the lady take the stool for a few bucks above the price at which I bought it. I reserved one, though, for my friends who had always asked me to buy one from the West Nile district of Pakwach. These ones were even stronger and more attractive than the Pakwach type that often have inscription such as "Remember Pakwach." These ones were also plain, leaving room for self customization if one wished to.
While the scramble for my beautiful stools went on in town, a thought of starting a business in the local artifacts came to me if I could buy them in the rural areas and add a bit of value by way of polishing and vanishing before resale. well, I am still toying with the idea. Watch this space for what I will be up to three months down this road.
I was elated to pulled over at Bibia especially while along the way from Lacor Hospital in Gulu we had been subjected to a speed we did not like by a Uganda People's Defense Forces truck that drove ahead of us and did not allow us to overtake even while we made at least three stops of more than 30 minutes along the way but still catching with it. We sold some magazines and newspapers while we sought a reseller for our products at the border point. And it while we where at Bibia that we heard of the riots in downtown Kampala by some Baganda (subjects of the Kabaka, the traditional leader/king of the people of central Ugandan region of Buganda) over the refusal of the government to grant the king permission to visit Kayunga district for the annual Buganda youth celebrations.
Of course we were far far away from the riots, like over 600kms up north from Kampala. Funny, as it may seem, it was an interesting time to open a new outlets for the newspapers. naturally, the various business people, immigration and revenue dept workers, insurers and clearing and forwarding agents were eager to know in detail what was going on in Kampala. Bingo, we manage to find a willing business person to take on the task of being a sub-agent at Bibia and the newspapers who have selling since Friday.
I will be revisiting Bibia again next month to check on the progress of the new sub-agent and I will be glad to check out the lovely stools again, probably meeting the interesting boys at Atiak again. I hope and pray that I remember to carry them some gift that they wont have to beg for.
I made home to the village Saturday afternoon and as usual got pretty busy with gardening and other farming work around home. i got a chance or two to relax while watching TV with some friends in town and also went swimming Saturday afternoon. Once Emitino and the mom were absent. Hopefully, I will see them this week when I go over to Kampala for the monthly sales meeting.
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