“I Miss Their Love More than Anything”: A War Orphan and her Family

Susan, Age 17

When I was only seven, both of my parents were killed by the LRA. My father was a teacher back then, and someone told the militia that my family would have money. They came to our home in the middle of the night and demanded all the money we had. At the time, there was nothing there for them to take, so they killed my father. They decided to abduct my mother and gave her a heavy load to carry. She wasn’t strong enough, so they cut her in two pieces and left her to die.

At first, I was given to my maternal uncle to be cared for, but after he became sick and died, I was given to the wife of my paternal uncle. Life was so hard with my “stepmother.” She had many of her own children to care for and could not support my siblings and me.

At 16, I became pregnant. The father promised to care for me and my baby, but then vanished. Around the same time, my stepmother sent my siblings and me away from her home.

Now I am on my own to care for my one year old child and my three siblings. The second born in my family used to help me with the chores like gardening, but he recently died. Life is so hard. My younger siblings are still in primary school, but are often sent home because we cannot find the money to pay the PTA [parental contribution] fees.

My main support comes from the Peace Club where I have received psychosocial counseling and sometimes am given a small sum of money to help me with expenses.

The worst experience of my life has been missing the love of my parents. There has been so much discrimination against me since they died. I miss their love more than anything.

Living with HIV-Infected Parents

Brenda, Age 16

My family struggles because of HIV. Both my mother and father have the disease. We are peasant farmers, but with my parents weak and sick all the time, we often don’t produce enough for a surplus.

School fees are a big problem. Most terms, I talk to the head teacher at my school so that I can pay my fees bit by bit [rather than at the start of the term]. My head teacher is understanding, and usually allows this, but by the end of the year, we often haven’t made the full payment.
When my parents are sick, there is much more work to do at home. I am the oldest, so I need to take care of the younger children. I also have to tend our crop and cook, so my education is not always the priority.

There is an uncle who sometimes helps when my parents need to go to the hospital, but now he is sick too.

Most of the community is supportive of my family. At times, neighbors will fetch water when I am in school so that my parents have enough to drink.

Last year, we were given two goats as a form of livelihood support from an NGO. The goats produced twins. When these goats multiply again, we will sell one to help pay school fees. With my parents sick, I make the goat rearing and business decisions for my family.
There are very many families like my own in Northern Uganda who need assistance because of HIV/AIDS. I am so grateful for the little support we’ve received so my siblings and me can go to school.

At 13 Years Old, I Decided I Had to Leave

Concy, Age 16

The LRA [Lord’s Resistance Army] killed my parents when I was seven. My father was a simsim farmer. He used to sell his harvest for good money. Someone told the LRA that he was a man with good profits, so one day, they came to our homestead. The militants demanded our money and my father gave it to them. They said they wanted more, but there was no more. The last I saw of my parents was both of them being taken into the bush by soldiers. There, they killed them.

For some time, I was taken care of by my grandmother. When she passed away, I was sent to live with my father’s sister. My auntie was burdened with many children of her own and did not have the ability to care for me. She used me mostly for labor. For a while, we were living in a [internally displaced people] camp. Whenever there was a need to collect food, she would send me, knowing that it was very dangerous. There were times that I would see the militia on the road to our family’s plot. I would hide when I spotted them, but I was always so afraid they would find me.

Once we left the camp, the discrimination didn’t stop. The other children in the household went to school and would receive clothes, and I received nothing. I would be given the leftovers of the food the others ate--which was very little--and had to eat alone while the others ate together.

At 13 years old, I decided I had to leave. I planned to find myself a husband to support me.

I found a young man who was 16 and agreed to live with me. He was formerly abducted and lost both of his parents as well. He has given me two children already, but one died.

When my uncle came to collect the dowry [to make our marriage official], my boyfriend’s family refused, so we are still not married.

My boyfriend received vocational training as a driver [from a reintegration center catering to formerly abducted youth], but hasn’t been able to find employment. We tend our own plot, but the food is often not enough to feed our family. We also work in others’ gardens to help us make a little extra money for things like medical expenses.

The Peace Club has helped us a lot in times of difficulty. They have provided me with counseling when I needed it. I also enjoy participating in the dance and drama activities as a way to relieve stress. The Club has also given my family small amounts of money when we are faced with an urgent need, like my child’s medical expenses. They are like family to me, which I do not have.