Palma Achieng, one of the Aboke girls, escaped, together with her three-year-old son, on 30 January 2004. To this very day, it is hard for her to talk about the cruelties she has witnessed or even had to participate in. The following story is what she is willing to say:
9 October 1996, midnight. I was 14 and was studying at Saint Mary’s in Aboke when the rebels of the Lord’s Resistance Army attacked the school. They smashed the window, forced their way into our dormitory and tied up our arms. One of the rebels tried to rape a girl but she kicked him and was able to escape. We had to form a queue and were led through the school gates. Along the way, we witnessed the rebels loot the hospital and set the car on fire.
We moved into the bushes. A couple of girls managed to cut the ropes with razor blades and escaped. After we had been walking all night, Sister Rachele suddenly appeared. We crossed the railway and immediately after that, a helicopter of the government army opened fire on us. We ran and ran until we reached a place where the rebels chose 30 girls to stay behind with them. Sister Rachele gave the commander money and begged him to return all the girls, but he refused. It became dark. Together with Sister Rachele, we said a last prayer and then she left, with 109 girls.
After they had left, we were divided into groups of 5 and were given to different commanders. We got food, but the meat was only half rare and we secretly threw it into the bushes. The next morning, after breakfast, we were on the road again. We each had to carry a load on our heads. Some of us had to carry land mines and ammunition.
We had only just left when a fight broke out between the rebels and the government troops. The helicopter was also bombing us. The rebels managed to fight off the government army. We walked all day, deep into the night. The next morning, we reached the hill of Atoo. Here, the rebels performed a ritual. They pulled off our shirts. With amixture of eggs, water and ashes they wrote words on our backs, sprinkled water on our breasts and drew a heart while they said some kind of secret spell. For 3 days, we had to walk around stripped to the waist and we couldn’t even wash ourselves. Another group of rebels joined us. They stared at our breasts and joked about them.
Three days later, we received guidelines from ‘Lakwena’, the spirit in which the rebels believed. I can only remember two rules: when we crossed a river, we had to pour water over our heads and a man couldn’t take a girl without the leaders’ consent. One of the commanders who had raped a girl was brutally murdered.
In those days, the Pope prayed for the Aboke girls and asked for our liberation. We heard the news on the BBC radio. The rebels’ reaction was bitter and angry. “Why is it that people only talk about you”, they yelled, “We have abducted many other children and they didn’t mention a single word about them”. Commander Lagira ordered to kill us. A lot of sticks were brought. We were terrified, but nothing happened.
That week we spent a night in a homestead. Earlier, the rebels had abducted a 13-year-old girl that was going to the market. The girl tried to hide in one of the huts.
The owners had hidden her under a pile of bags and mattresses, but the rebels found her and dragged her outside. They ordered us, Aboke girls, to kill her. We did as we were told and afterwards each of us got 15 strokes with a stick.
Early December, we headed for Sudan. When we reached the Atebi river, my right leg was swollen.The pain kept me awake. In the morning, I had difficulty in lifting my leg. Some of the rebels wanted to kill me because I was moving too slowly. The commander decided to walk right next to me so nobody could hurt me.
On 14 December 1996, we reached a camp of the Arabs (the Sudanese government army), situated on the bank of the Kit river. A message was sent to headquarters and a truck came to pick up the sick and wounded. We were brought to Aruu camp.
Immediately after the arrival, the Aboke girls were brought to the operations room. A man who introduced himself as the Personnel Manager welcomed us. He told us that he had received orders from rebel leader Joseph Kony to divide us among our so-called husbands. We had to help them with their military operations, he said, and satisfy all their needs. Then we were given to the officers of the supreme command.
I was sent to the house of the Personnel Manager. He had 5 wives. He called me and asked me how old I was, what my parents’ names were and where they lived. He especially wanted to know when I had had my first period . I answered that I hadn’t had my period yet. “You’re a bit young”, he mumbled. He was about 40 years old.
In the camp in Sudan, young girls were called “tingting”. I was one of them. The other women tortured me. They thought I had to suffer just like them. One of them, Alice, hated me the most. Early in the morning, she kicked me out of bed and I had to gather dead wood. Every time I returned late, she beat me up. In the afternoon, I had to fetch water. The river was 6 kilometers away from the camp. I only had something to eat in the evening. The Arabs brought food to the camp, but there was never enough. I got three goblets of posho a month. The hunger was terrible.
And so New Year 1997 came. I couldn’t sleep for several nights. Thoughts kept on spinning through my mind. I cried and prayed silently: “Dear God, what have I done to deserve this awful punishment? What lies ahead for me?” But there was no answer. I became skinnier and weaker.
On 8 April heavy fights broke out. The Ugandan government army, supported by the SPLA (the rebels of Southern Sudan), fought the LRA rebels who in their turn were supported by the Arabs. We were driven from the Aruu camp and moved to Jebelein.
Girls that had their period were not allowed in the kitchen. They were not allowed to touch cutlery or to approach a well. Nor were they allowed to set foot on the “yard”, a secret place where important prayers were said and where ghosts reported about what was happening. In December 1997, I had my first period. Shortly after, the commander started harassing me. I was able to keep him off for quite a while. One night, it was April 1998, he called me to his sleeping place, but I refused. Around midnight, he entered our room. He had a revolver and he kept his finger on the trigger. I feared for my life, so I gave in to him.
In December 1999, I learned how to take care of the ill and wounded. Suddenly, I realized I was pregnant. The thought of it almost drove me crazy. I wanted to run away, but Uganda was far away and I was very weak. I tried to abort the child, but I failed. One month before giving birth, I got malaria. I was rushed to Juba hospital and gave birth to a son on 3 September.
In October, the Arabs broke off all relations with the rebels. The food supplies were cut off. There was a lot of famine. The larger part of 2001 was occupied by agricultural activities. We grew sorghum, soy beans, simsim, peanuts, corn and millet. In February 2002, rumours reached us that the Ugandan government army, the SPLA and the Arabs would attack our camp. Our main task was to take the food to a new camp.
During that period, the rebels selected four groups and each of them had to attack a Sudanese army camp. The Arabs were driven away, their huts were burned and their food and weapons were taken. By the end of March, the rebels had cleared all camps. We were taken to the highest mountain of Sudan, the Imatong. We heard the bombardments and shootings in the distance. Later on, we crossed a flatter area, populated by farmers. The rebels killed about 180 men and women in this region.
One night, in June 2002, we crossed the Ugandan border. After two days, we reached Gulu. A few women and children were released: those who had lost their “husband” or had swollen legs. However, Kony ordered that none of the Aboke girls were to be released. We stayed in the sick bay of the Kilak Hills until November. There was no more food left. We survived on wild fruit and whatever we could find in the woods. A lot of children starved to death.
In November, we entered Murchison Park. We put up camp near the Nile, where we lived together with wild animals. If you found a tree with edible seeds, you were lucky because you had food for a couple of days. I thought of escaping again. However, we were too deep in the woods and I didn’t know in which direction to go. Moreover, we were surrounded by dangerous animals. We had to make a fire around our camp to keep them away. We celebrated Christmas and New Year 2003 in the park.
The following months, we travelled around from one district to another. The rebels looted and killed everybody in the villages, so they wouldn’t give them away to the government. On 19 January 2004, we were attacked by two combat helicopters. Our group was driven apart. I stayed behind with two little girls. I didn’t know which way to go. Eventually, I decided to go eastward. On the way, I prayed to God to protect me and to lead me home.
To my great disappointment, I ran into another group of rebels. I told them we had been attacked by the government army. They welcomed me and brought me to their leader, who contacted my group by radio. Five soldiers came to pick me up. When we arrived, I noticed several girls were missing. They were dead. Even the commander, to whom I had been appointed, had been killed.
After that, I was free, I was no longer under surveillance. “Today, I’m going home”, I said to the other girls. “If you want, you can follow me”. After lunch, the whistle-signal sounded. The convoy started moving. We walked ahead.
The rebels said we had to wait, but we just kept on walking. I was the first to sneak into the bushes. After a few meters, I hid under a tree full of leaves. I waited until the last guard had left and began to walk in the opposite direction. I walked alone, with my child on my back, until the night began to fall.
Then, I entered a military camp and presented myself to the information officer . I could hardly believe the nightmare, that had lasted for seven years, was finally over.