Mission in TODAY
Vol. XVIII x No. 7
AUGUST 2006
A good shepherd
Marvin Fuentes, a Comboni missionary from Costa Rica, has been working in ravaged Northern Uganda for the past 9 years. He has been witnessing the atrocities “beyond any imagination” committed by the LRA rebels; he risked being executed in three attacks to his mission and had narrow escapes a few times on the road. In those difficult times, he still decided to stay with the people – inspired by the parable of the Good Shepherd, who gives His life for the sheep.
By Marvin Fuentes
Comboni Missionary
For many years now, the whole Northern Uganda has been exposed to attacks of the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) rebels, since it borders on south Sudan, from where they operate. A big number of people have been maimed; thousands of children abducted and entire villages completely destroyed or burned down to ashes. Especially so, during the years 2002-2003, when Uganda’s army received permission from Sudan government – while implementing Operation Iron Fist – to act and eliminate the bases of the LRA.
A retaliation from the rebels ensued, inflicting much suffering to the Acholi people, in the north of Uganda. Children between the ages of 9 and 16 were taken away from their families and forced to join the movement of the LRA. Those who resisted were beaten to death in front of other children, in order to create an atmosphere of panic and fear – a tactic to prevent them from escaping. For these children, attempts to escape could cost them their lives.
We have seen the atrocities committed by the LRA with our own eyes, something beyond any imagination. I personally have seen cases of young people with their ears chopped, lips, arms and fingers cut, as a way to create fear and terror among the people. Villages inside the bush, small trading centers and even the Catholic missions and missionaries became ideal targets for their military operations, in search of more children, food and goods.
I would like to share with the readers three attacks I experienced in three consecutive months of 2002 (June, July and August) in this trouble-filled area.
We were beaten
At the beginning of June 2002, we already knew about the presence of many rebel groups in the surrounding areas, commanded by top officials of the LRA. There were even rumors about the presence there of Joseph Kony, the overall leader of the rebels, who disguised himself by wearing woman’s clothes.
June 9, 2002. The mission of Namokora, where I lived and worked together with another priest, was attacked and looted twice in a month’s time. That night we went to bed with great fear as we sensed something bad would happen. At 2:00 o’clock in the morning, a group of about 300 rebels attacked the small trading center of Namokora and the mission at the same time. The banging of the doors was so loud that it gave people the opportunity to run into the bush for safety. The strong iron door of the mission was hit so hard with hammers and axes that it fell on the floor together with its frame and part of the wall.
We had a couple of minutes to dress up and hide in the shower room, but were also found and taken at gun point to the sitting room. We were dazzled by the torch light and we could hardly see while we walked. We were warned that if we attempted anything, to lie or disobey their orders, we could be killed on the spot.
I really thought it would be the last day of my life. I prayed fervently to God for my confrere’s life and for myself. Knowing what the rebels were capable to do, I believe God protected us all along. That night they looted the mission, took away our radio transmitter and some of the solar panels. (I had to climb the roof to get some and prevent the attackers from seeing the rest.) We were spared, but we were beaten with axes and machine guns when we resisted to give them the radio. Many other people, including Christians from the parish and the small center of Namokora, did not have the same luck; some were taken by the rebels and those who tried to escape were killed.
Harassed and humiliated
After the first incident, we continuously lived in fear. For many years, I had seen people killed, mutilated, wounded or beaten badly. I was always asked to take the wounded people to hospitals and even burying them. For two weeks, we slept in the church for security reasons. Then, we decided to return to the house of the mission hoping the rebels would not come back again.
Three weeks later, another group came. It was July 22, 2002. The fear and frightening experience of hiding in the shower room during the first attack made me decide to just open the door for them this time. I talked to them in Acholi, hopefully, to gain their trust saying that we were not armed, lest they start shooting.
When they were already inside the house, they threatened to kill me. They asked me to kneel down and to take off my shirt – an order that I didn’t obey. Instead, I sat on a chair. Then they took off my shirt and searched me everywhere, looking for weapons. I told them I am a missionary and didn't have anything of the kind. After that, they went to all the rooms of the house, looting and taking with them anything that they could use. My confrere was eventually found and intimidated, too. This time, we were spared the beating but we were harassed and humiliated.
Permanent danger
The mission where I am actually working is called Omyanyima, 20 kms away from Namokora mission. It was attacked by the rebels together with the trading center of the place, located just half a kilometer away, in August. It happened one Saturday evening. I had gone there for pastoral work and to meet the catechists of the parish. Because of the dangerous roads, I went by bicycle and had to sleep there.
At 6:00 p.m., a group of about 70 rebels engaged the 100 soldiers, who were there to protect the place, in a battle. Unfortunately, the soldiers run out of ammunitions. They left the place and the people in the hands of the rebels. The center was looted completely, shops were destroyed and burned. We counted a total of 380 houses burned to ashes, and about 30 people were killed among rebels and soldiers. For safety, I run into the church and spent the whole night there, hoping that I would not be found by the rebels. After they were done with the center, they came to loot the mission as well. They started with the Fathers’ house, then they set it on fire. Again, God granted me His protection and help.
During those months, the roads were so unsafe that traveling from Namokora to Kitgum (a distance of 60 kilometers) became very risky and difficult. Ambushes of cars on the way were common – two or three incidents on the same road in a week. Individuals moving around on bicycles were captured, beaten up or killed and their bicycles destroyed. People going to their fields to work did so at their own risk. Very often they were harassed and beaten.
There were times when I myself had to stop along the way and return to the mission because it came to my knowledge that the rebels were around somewhere. More than once I had narrow escapes: when they struck, I had already passed. We always traveled with much fear of being ambushed and killed; I feared for my life but, especially, for those who were traveling with me. I am very grateful to the Lord that I have not encountered an ambush on the road because the possibility of surviving one is very very slim.
Reciprocal help
You might ask me: Why have you decided to remain there in such circumstances? At a certain period, I was asked to leave the area and the mission and go somewhere for a rest – in a safer place. But I decided to stay with the people. For them, we are their only reference and hope. Actually, during difficult times, only the missionaries are seen in the area or on the roads. People know they can count on us for help or protection in times of need. The help is reciprocal, though – when the missions had been attacked, they came to care and see to our needs.
The strength and courage we receive from the people helped us in our decision to stay with them and be ready to suffer together with them. Unlike us, they do not have a place to run to or hide, apart from the bush, where they sleep every evening for days and weeks, many with babies and little kids, fearing to be found and captured by the rebels.
I was personally very much inspired by the parable of the Good Shepherd – caring, protecting, and giving His life for the sheep, especially when the enemy (the wolf) tries to snatch them away or to kill them. I would conclude saying: We can give them hope – that we ourselves receive from the Lord – but, in return, we get strength and learn endurance from these people who are waiting for better times – when they could live in peace and security. <WM
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