Mission in TODAY
Vol. XVIII x No. 5
JUNE 2006
Fr. Tarcisio Pazzaglia
"Help us. Give us faith!"
More than a hundred Comboni Missionaries and Comboni Sisters are working in war-torn Northern Uganda. Here is the testimony of Tarcisio Pazzaglia whose attempts to mediate in the conflict almost costed him his life. After an ambush, a shooting, an unbearable walk and a night in prison awaiting execution, he prayed: “Don’t You see that we are working for peace? Help us. Give us faith!”
The war against terrorism started after September 11, 2002. Uganda received great amounts of money and weapons to fight against the Lord’s Resistance Army of Joseph Kony. Its soldiers entered Sudan and when they arrived at Kony’s headquarters found only two handicapped persons. The “Operation Iron Fist” is criticized by all Ugandan people. Huge amounts of money are spent in weapons and on soldiers, not on schools and health.
In June, about 2,000 “Olum” (meaning “grass men,” as the rebels are called) entered Uganda and started ambushes, robberies and kidnapping of children. They were divided into small groups, used radio-transmitters and a terrible power for destruction. It is said that they are the most efficacious infantry in the world.
On June 28, one of the rebel leaders, Tabuley, wrote a nice letter inviting me for a meeting, where and when I want, in order to end this shedding of blood and to guarantee the carrying out of the amnesty previously approved by the parliament. Their distrust of the government is real, and what happened to me proves it.
The generals are divided into hawks and doves; to many of them the war is a good source of income. The President continues to assure that everything is “under control,” but the truth is that the rebels go on undisturbed robbing and destroying the missions of Namokora, Patongo, Iceme, Alito... from where they have taken solar panels, radio-transmitters and food. All this proves that the protection that should come from the soldiers does not really exist.
Worse than before
The conditions I transmitted to this rebel leader, Tabuley, were drastic: to put an end to ambushes, abductions, mines, and to release a seminarian they had kidnapped. He assured me that my requests will be met, and so I asked all necessary permissions from the authorities and went to meet the rebel leaders on that chosen day; this time, however, I did not go alone. Thus, on that July 17, the archbishop of Gulu, John Baptist Odama, instead of going to the meeting of all African bishops in Tanzania, came with me to the savannah to speak to the rebels, taking all risks of this safari…such as the fear that a mine could go off in the middle of the path’s tall grass. With us, there were also the Acholi leader, Oywak, and Fr. José Carlos Rodríguez, whom I had asked to interrupt his holiday in Spain to take part in this historical meeting.
We kept the content of this meeting secret, leaving the Archbishop the task of informing the President about the request of the rebels. Two days after, the Archbishop went to see the President, who sent a tough letter for Tabuley; however, leaving room for future peace talks with some conditions that the rebels, in fact, did not accept. Therefore, to show their power and superiority, they multiplied the ambushes, many army officials and their escorts were killed… all, in order to arrive at the negotiating table not as losers asking for mercy, but to uphold their own requests.
The soldiers were not motivated enough to combat this war and, often, when the rebels arrived, they just ran away, leaving the villages they were supposed to protect. They abandoned even the Sudanese refugees’ camp. Agago, which I had assisted before, was destroyed, and around 16,000 refugees left the place, walking towards Lira City – 60 km away. It was like the biblical exodus which ended, thanks to the help of the Commission for Refugees, in other refugee camps in more peaceful areas.
Kidnappings and terror
The rebels continued to kidnap 12 to 15 year-old boys, and those who escaped were punished together with their family. On July 25, they made an act of retaliation at Pajong (22 km from Kitgum) to punish a rebel who had escaped taking with him two weapons. In this tragic act, they killed 56 persons with sticks and hoes. They obliged Florence Apat to kill her son, just a few months old, and her nephew, Nighty Acan, after they had killed her husband. She refused to kill her baby son, Simone, whom I had baptized a few months before, saying: “God does not want it, I will never kill my son.” They kidnapped her, but after two days of walking was released and returned home. In the courtyard, there were 17 dead. She cried much and loud and her two sons, who were hiding in the grass, came out when they heard her. They were happy that their mother was alive. Afterwards, Nighty came to the parish to tell of her tragedy and to ask for protection and assistance. She stayed some time with us.
We receive news of ambushes and deaths every day. The works to renovate the schools in the rural areas cannot continue for lack of security. People are afraid. Who will stop these rebels, they ask. When will the soldiers have enough strength and means to win this war?
Some human gestures
In this context, and with surprise, I received a letter from the rebel leader, Tabuley, who asked me to go to Koyo Lalogui to take 18 women and 13 children whom he wanted to turn over to my custody; I entrusted them to the care of the diocesan Caritas at Pajule. They were young ladies who had been kidnapped years before, taken to Sudan, and have become mothers. Their children will never know their fathers who live in the forest with the rebels. To come from Sudan, they had done 200 km on foot in three weeks.
Afterwards, I got some other letters and they entrusted to me 63 persons at Atanga and 93 at Lanyatongo. I took all of them to Pajule mission. The parents of these girls who had spent so many years in Sudan and were taken for dead were told of their arrival. One can imagine how emotional were the encounters between parents and daughters.
It would take too long to tell their stories: the abduction, the long journey to Sudan – those who did not walk were killed – the arrival at Kony’s base, the purification and their handing over as wives to the officials who had already many, the maltreatments, the hunger, the hard work, the practice to use the machine-gun and the taking part in guerrilla warfare. Now, they are in need of psychological help to enable them to blend themselves again in the society.
The army trap
To affirm that the rebels were my friends is false… but I have a good reputation among them. There are those who trust me and those who ask for help and assistance. Such is Major Toopaco who, on August 22, wrote to me asking for medicine and other things. I thought that the meeting with him would be a good occasion to dissuade him from some actions such as kidnapping children, pillaging… convinced that in a personal meeting, in the local language, he would accept my critics and prepare for a ceasefire. I informed, as I always do, the bishop and the civil and military authorities of the place of my meeting with Toopaco. The bishop sent his secretary, Fr. José Carlos Rodríguez.
Fr. Giulio Albanese, editor of the Missionary Service News Agency (MISNA), had arrived from Italy shortly before, to take part in the meeting.
On August 28, at 10 o’clock in the morning, we left Kitgum towards Tomangu (25 kms away). After 7 kms, we were stopped on the road by three soldiers. We told them where we were heading to and they made a thorough inspection of everything we had. They took away the medicines and batteries I wanted to offer the rebel. They let us continue towards the rebels… rather towards a trap planned by Colonel Kazora, who had already given orders to a hundred soldiers to organize a surprise attack in Tomangu and, probably, kill us all. We continued our journey. After 12 kms, there was practically no more road. So we left the car there and continued on foot, disappointed because they had taken the medicines.
Franco, the catechist who was with us, had doubts about the meeting because Toopaco had not been seen lately. On the way, we met a woman who was going to the market, and she told us that the rebels were nearby. Finally, we arrived at the village. Toopaco was not there, but the group welcomed us nicely all the same; they offered us chairs. I said a prayer. And, after some words of introduction and presentation, Fr. Carlos explained the purpose of our visit.
We had just started talking to them when something awful happened. At my back, I felt the shooting of a Kalashnikov, grenades and bombs; something terrible indeed. The rebels ran and shot back. We all laid down on the ground. I hid behind a plant and saw soldiers coming and shooting crazily. The hut near me caught fire. I got worried about my two confreres and was crossed because I realized we had been deceived and used by the army for this ambush, like last year.
Praying to the angels
I thought this time was really the end. I saw Fr. Albanese coming towards me and asked: “Are you hurt?” “No.” “And Carlos?” “I don’t know.” His left arm was injured because the hut was on fire. The shooting continued for 20 minutes. At a certain point, I raised an arm. A soldier shouted at me: “Musungu”! He had seen me. Other soldiers arrived and asked us: “What are you doing here? Who called you here?” We explained what had happened but they answered us in a rough manner: “Lie down! Don’t get up!” We changed position while still lying down because the bullets of the rebels were coming in our direction. We saw some threatening weapons pointed at us as if we were rebels. Our fear of the shooting was followed by the fear of being executed. The soldiers were speaking in Swahili. I did not understand what they were saying, but they were very nervous. Then they took some photos of us and asked for my watch and everything I had in my pocket. I saw one of them with a cord as if he was going to tie us up… it has indeed been a moment of fear.
Next to me, there was a woman with a 4 or 5 month-old beautiful baby who was looking at me without crying. I said to the mother: “What a beautiful baby,” and she answered: “He is lucky because he is not aware of what is happening here! If I survive, I am going somewhere else; I won’t stay here anymore!” I was already thinking about the execution and death. And I was telling myself: “It is better to die instantly than in a wheelchair or of old age.” I will not reveal the confusion that was going within me. I was asking the help of Fr. Raffaele Di Bari (a Comboni missionary killed by the LRA next to kitgum on October 1, 2000) and of all angels that they would spare us from a tragic situation.
An unbearable journey
Then, the commander recognized Fr. Giulio Albanese and said: “I know you. I have seen you in Kampala.” “Yes, I am a priest! I am not an Arab as your soldiers are saying.” At this point, things changed: we got up and saw that they have tied up 3 or 4 Africans taken for rebels while, in reality, they were people who lived in that village. Fr. Carlos asked not to be tied, assuring them that we will not run away. We started the long journey back from Tomangu through the forest to the main road. We walked for hours and hours through the savannah, guarded by these hundred soldiers in order not to escape nor be victims of possible rebel ambushes.
For me, it was a real unbearable journey: I could not walk anymore; I was not used to walking so many kilometers under the sun, in those conditions and with a thirst no one can imagine! Finally, we arrived at the first soldiers’ camp; we asked for water but they did not give us. Military vehicles arrived. We thought they would take us to Kitgum parish, about 5 kms away. I saw a catechist and told him: “Go and tell the parish priest, Fr. Elia Pampaloni, that we are alive and well and tell him also to let the mayor know of what happened so that he can come and make things clear.”
They took us in their military vehicles to the military huts in Kitgum, called Gang Dyang (“House of the Cows”). We arrived there, asked for water but was told to wait until they have spoken to the colonel. It was already night time. Instead of giving us water, they took us to a mud hut, with mere soil as its floor. We complained: “What is this? Are you putting us in prison? What wrong have we done? What are we accused of?” They answered: “We will see about it tomorrow. You will spend the night here.” And so, there we were in prison, in this 4-meter hut, and they took our shoes, clothes, and everything we had in our pockets. At the last moment, before locking the door, they gave the T-shirts back to us.
The longest night
This was the longest night of my life. Fr. Giulio Albenese, who has kidney problems, was asking for water. Also Fr. Carlos was asking for it in all languages. They answered that they had strict order not to give us anything to drink. We spent a sleepless night: wide awake, on the soil full of thorns, annoyed by the bats and bitten by malaria-carrying mosquitoes (not having a gall-bladder, malaria would be fatal for me). We were also afraid of a rebel attack; that the soldiers would take advantage and throw a bomb into the hut, terminating us while putting the blame on the rebels. We absolved each other sacramentally and prayed. The sun was not appearing. Without any watch, we didn’t know the hour. How long the night was without sleep and water!
I was thinking of the Acholis who were spending not only one night but many in those precarious conditions. We were sharing their sufferings. I thought of the episode of the Gethsemane and I repeated with Jesus: “Father, if it is possible, take this cup away from me.” (Mt 26:39) And with little faith: “It is hard to follow Your will. We accept that Your time is different from ours, but don’t You see that we are working for peace? Help us. Give us faith!”
Even our requests to go to the toilet were denied. I made a small hole on the ground, like the cats. I felt uncomfortable but there was no other way. In the morning, we heard a helicopter approaching, around 9 o’clock. It was already very hot and we haven’t had any water. Finally, they came and brought us under a tree to write a report about our meeting with the rebels, according to them, not properly arranged with the military authorities. As prisoners, we were barefooted. The hawk colonels – those who do not want to finish the war and do not share our peace mission – were very tough on us.
Procedures against peace
The helicopter had brought some officials from Gulu, almost 100 km away. They were more gentle with us. They brought us with them to Gulu barracks. They treated us better and gave us food and something to drink. But they made us write again the whole report and they rebuked us for not following the right procedure to realize a meeting with the rebels. I protested saying that I had told the civil authorities and even had a letter from the mayor for the rebels. They answered that the correct procedure was the following: I should inform the Bishop, the Bishop informs the President, the President informs the General, the General informs the Colonel, the Colonel informs the Captain... a difficult procedure aiming to prevent the stop of war with peace talks!
I returned to Kitgum in a helicopter. In the parish, a crowd was waiting for us, applauding, glad that Tarcisio “Loyarmoi” was back home. Everybody criticizes the soldiers and is more convinced that the Government’s actions and attitudes are quite different from its discourses and promises. <WM
ON
THE SIDE
OF PEOPLE
Tarcisio Pazzaglia, 72, an Italian Comboni missionary, arrived in Acholiland, in Northern Uganda, in 1965. He knows the Acholi language better than English. During these 42 years, he has witnessed the change of Government, through military uprising, five times (Amin Dada’s coup d’etat in 1971; his overthrow by the Tanzanian troops in 1979; the rise of Milton Obote the following year; his replacement in 1985 by Tito Okelo through a coup d’etat; and Yoweri Museveni’s coup d’etat in 1986).
Fr. Tarcisio always remained with the people, suffering with them and witnessing their drama. In 1975, they gave him the traditional name of “Loyarmoi”, which means “the one who spreads the Good News with strength/tenacity” or “the one who has casted out and killed many demons.”
In 2001, the rebels of the Lord’s Resistance Army asked him to mediate the conflict with the Government. From April 10, 2001, he has engaged them in talks six times. Being a very popular and known missionary, he has won their trust. But in 2003, they doubted his fidelity when Kony asked him whose side was he. Tarcisio’s answer couldn’t be more unequivocal and straightforward: “I am on the side of the people.” The following day, the rebels’ commander gave the order to kill him.
Before that, the army had already shot at him twice during peace talks (see text). Fortunately, he was spared. He is in full swing in Kitgum Mission, building schools, hostels, boreholes, nurseries, chapels, preaching and sharing God’s love, through words, smiles, handshakes and concrete help to the people, especially those in the “protected” camps. As a token of appreciation for all his work, solidarity and struggle for peace – to the extent of risking his life – the President of Italy, Azeglio Ciampi, awarded him the title “Grande officiale della Stella della Solidarietà” in 2002. <WM
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