Alternative Justice

I’m a researcher – who knew? I’ve been interviewing like nobody’s business this past week, and let me tell you, it’s been amazing. Not just on an academic level, either – we’re talking life wisdom, human-to-human. My *job* this summer is to have numerous conversations with phenomenally inspiring people … how crazy is that? I caught a glimpse of the incredible capacity for forgiveness in Northern Uganda last summer, but wow, I had a lot more to learn.

Over lunch in a guesthouse, in the middle of a huge field under the village tree, or in the back of a cluttered NGO office, these people have been talking. And I have been listening. Local government officials, traditional chiefs and elders, community leaders, psycho-social counselors, NGO employees, teachers, peasant farmers, former child soldiers – they all have something to say. Lots to say, in fact. And even throughout this diverse crowd of community stakeholders runs a common theme: the wish for peace. And the immense capacity for forgiveness that accompanies this wish. These people have already opened their arms to the returning rebels, eager to celebrate their arrivals back to the community and begin a new era in Northern Uganda. After 22 years of war, they reject the idea of punitive justice for these “returnees,” especially as most were abducted against their will. Instead, they wish to pursue alternative justice – forgiveness through traditional ceremonies. I get to witness a “cleansing” next week. That is very. very. good. But I’m jumping the gun and shouldn’t make generalizations yet, of course.

I’ve been going “into the field” to local villages with a local NGO under the auspices of World Vision: Education for Peace and Prevention of Violence and HIV/AIDS. Perfect. This team of local Ugandans heads over to these “Community Care Coalitions,” collections of people from all walks of life in the community, and trains them to advocate on behalf of themselves for a whole array of issues. Most recently was domestic violence: the team goes in, solicits conceptions of the issue at the local level (most times these are positive, initially), and then presents the other side of the argument – not limited to the long-lasting negative effects of such practices on all parties. The goal is to present the community with another perspective and have them work through the logic on their own so that they will be more convinced if they do happen to change their minds. Really interesting with regard to cultural relativism: it is the Ugandan community itself who is advocating for this change. And in this organization, it has been very effective.

Through this initiative, I’ve gotten to witness grassroots at its best – and it was a high, let me tell you. Watching tangible change happen, however gradually, on the ground within these communities was quite a sight. It was even more exciting when the presenter encouraged the American to stand up and introduce himself in Acholi-Luo to the 45 villagers in the room. With some quick thinking and the ability to pull up from memory a bit of a graduation speech I gave not long ago, I managed to spit out a “good morning, am Robert, student America, I like you and food, thank you.” Have you ever been applauded for that sentence? Is that a sentence? It was even better when the Ugandan next to me stood up and introduced herself in English.

Don’t think I missed Independence Day over here. Managed to stumble into a FREEDOM! party hosted by a few U.S. marines in the area (?). We’re talking the biggest house I’ve been in yet (mansion, relative to the rest of the community), surround sound playing hits of the 90s, flat screen TV with Playstation, and arguably more munus than I knew existed in all of Gulu. Where am I? A marine party would be total culture shock for me even within the US. Had some really interesting conversations, though – absolutely do not judge a book by its cover. Or its title. Or the number of tattoos on its body. Should I get a tattoo?

Perhaps more importantly, yes: for those who were sitting with bated breath, I am indeed still the most charming munu in all of Gulu. Two of them, this time: “How old are you, munu?” “How old do you think I am, Acholi?” “16.” “Hmm… close!” It was around this point I realized they came up to my elbow, at best. “How old are YOU?” “15. Actually I’m 15 and a half.”

WHAT?! I COULD BE YOUR FATHER! (?) “I actually don’t have a phone!” “But we saw you talking on it!” “*Long sigh* Oh, that’s just my business phone!”

I really loved the anonymity, the fresh start that last summer afforded me in Northern Uganda. Not for any particular reason; it was just exciting to be in a totally new environment with no ties or expectations. I knew that it wouldn’t be quite the same this time, but little did I know upon arrival that I had made a name for myself last summer in this town. Walking into my guesthouse yesterday, one of the new workers greeted me with a surprised “ROBERT!” (say: ROH-BET). “Hi,” I replied cautiously, “how do you know my name?” “Rohbet, I met you at [local bar here] last year … you were the crazy muzungu with the dance moves!”

My secret’s out. I promised to “shake it” later in return for a new bar of bathroom soap. It really doesn’t take much these days.

A few cultural tips for the Uganda-bound:

Yawning only sometimes means one is tired. It also tends to mean one is hungry. Muster: “You know, before lunch at primary school, everyone is yawning.” .. Me: “So don’t you think they might just be tired?!!” .. Muster: “…Americans.” The word “doof” can mean food (“let’s get some doof” – cute, I know). Raised eyebrows that would signify “shock” or “extreme flirtation” in the States is a simple “hello.” That, or you have a man-eating cockroach tucked neatly into your hair. And when you have a brillow pad, that’s no joke. Anyway, it’s worth a quick brush of the top of the head while you’re saying “hello” in reply. Finally, they have pumpkins over here. I know, right? I figured that’s worth noting.

Lastly, I forgot to mention this in the other entry, but I was pleasantly surprised to be sitting at a local restaurant recently and have a Ugandan man come up to the student-researcher and introduce himself as “Justice.” Yes, my friends, Justice of Uganda has officially welcomed me here. Is this a sign? I’m not sure how far to read into these chance meetings, however, because a few days later I was randomly introduced to “Uma,” which means “nose.” I’m an Aries if anyone wants to figure this one out. Naturally, I gratuitously gave out my email address to the inquiring man.

A few days later, Justice sent me an email to this extent:

“ dear ROBERT.

THANKS ALOT FOR MY MAIL. ITS NICE AND THANKS ALOT DEAR, HOPE YOU ARE FINE AND DOING WELL, GREET HER FOR ME, MEET IF YOU COME BACK,

THANKS ALOT

JUSTICE”


Soon after, I received another email from him:

“DEAR ROBERT. BAIL MEWITH SOME QUICK MONEY, SHS 200.000 VIA WESTERN MONEY UNION, THE WORKERS ARE BADLY ON ME

MY ACCOUNT IS JUSTICE NSUBGA,30 200 30 323 CENTENARY BANK,

I KNEEL DOWNFOR YOU, TO DAY, THANKS

JUSTICE”

SHS 200.000 is the equivalent of ~130 U.S. dollars. I mean, what the hell, what ELSE am I going to do with it? Does anyone want to pick up this tab for me? Alternative Justice indeed. Justice works in mysterious ways. I’m done.


Only has time for business calls (I’m a busy guy),
Rob