Photo by Courtney Chance, AP Fellow 2009. Location: Kotido, Uganda (Karamoja). Partner: CECORE/IANSA

Photo by Courtney Chance, AP Fellow 2009. Location: Kotido, Uganda (Karamoja). Partner: CECORE/IANSA

Unfortunately, food shortage in Karamoja is causing the security situation to deteriorate. Once again, arms and ammunition trading is on the rise. I want to bring attention to an article published in the East African yesterday.

To read the article, please click on the following link: http://www.reliefweb.int/rw/rwb.nsf/db900SID/DKAN-7WZMV4?OpenDocument#

Photo by Courtney Chance, 2009 AP Fellow. Location: Kotido, Uganda. Partner: CECORE/IANSA.

Photo by Courtney Chance, 2009 AP Fellow. Location: Kotido, Uganda. Partner: CECORE/IANSA.

Joyce Ilukori is a former police officer who now advocates for women’s rights on behalf of Mother Care, a community based organization in Kaabong.  Joyce’s experiences as a police officer revealed to her just how few resources are available to victims of gender-based violence in Karamoja. When I spoke with her, she described an incident in which a relative of hers was brutally raped by five men. The police merely detained and later released the perpetrators without pursuing charges. According to Joyce, when women report violence, it is “typical for nothing to happen.”  In Karamoja, the prevalence and severity of domestic violence and inter-clan armed rape are staggering, yet a lack of infrastructure and an adherence to traditional practices barricade women from seeking justice.

Domestic violence against both women and children is so severe that many are left permanently disabled. Given that the Karimojong are a semi-nomadic pastoralist people, being disabled is a tremendous hardship. During raids, being disabled becomes an extreme liability.  Those who are unable to escape or defend themselves are exposed to a much greater risk of being raped or shot by rival warriors. In addition, disabled survivors face an elevated risk of repeated attacks.

Children also suffer both directly and indirectly from domestic violence. Adolescent boys, charged with watching cattle, may be beaten or even killed for losing an animal or falling victim to a raid. Girls are at risk of being raped while gathering firewood or walking to and from school. Patrick Osekeny of UNFPA recounted a recent incident in which two female students were on their way to school when they were stopped by members of a rival clan. The men used the barrel of a rifle to rape the girls.

Determining the rate of armed domestic violence in Karamoja is nearly impossible because reporting is all but nonexistent, and official structures go unused. Osekeny asserts that “deaths [are] not even reported.” Likewise, Patrick Lomongin of FORDIPOM claims that police records do not reflect the “many cases” of spousal murder in the region. He provided an example of a wealthy cattle rustler from Lotome who shot two of his eleven wives. Lomongin said that despite everyone in town knowing about this man’s crimes, no attempt has been made to bring him to justice or even to ostracize him from the community.

Instead of seeking help from the police or the courts, affected parties usually settle disputes within their community or tribe. Some disputes are referred to the Akiliket, the local council of elders. Oftentimes, the Akiliket dismisses claims of domestic violence outright because wife-beating is considered normal or a private family issue. If the victim’s family protests or the violence results in major injury or death, then the aggressor may be asked to compensate the victim’s family. Once this is done, the case is deemed to be resolved.

Patrick Osekeny recalls a case from last year when a widow was raped in her hut. There were several witnesses, but no one intervened. The woman was so distraught that she hung herself. Police detained the perpetrator, but they released him when his relatives agreed to pay compensation to the widow’s son.

In addition to cultural barriers, survivors must surmount systemic obstacles to justice. There are no resident judges or magistrates in Karamoja. The region’s presiding magistrate oversees Soroti District plus all five (soon to be six) of the districts in Karamoja. The only court in the region is situated in Moroto, and there are no resources available to transport witnesses or plaintiffs to and from Moroto. According to Lomongin, the chief magistrate spent only four days in Moroto during the previous year. As a result, there is a backlog of more than 300 cases. Ironically, the sign outside the Moroto courthouse reads “Justice delayed is justice denied.”

 Furthermore, because the Karimojong are a semi-nomadic people, locating witnesses and following up on cases is very difficult. Ann Grace Namer of Caritas claims that both victims and witnesses fear that they will be harassed or killed if they report violence or testify in court.

In Karamoja, there are few police units, and only a handful of officers have received gender sensitivity training. Currently, UNFPA and the International Rescue Committee (IRC) are training community development officers to collect and manage cases, but this project is still in the early stages. Women’s organizations are also forming more cohesive alliances. At least 80 women’s groups are now registered with the Karamoja Women Umbrella Organisation.  Even though Karamoja is a difficult working environment, community-based organizations, such as FORDIPOM and Warrior Squad, are using innovative methods to reach out to the communities in the region.  I was truly inspired by their enthusiasm and their dedication to promoting peace and gender equality. 

I want to recognize some of the individuals and organizations committed to women’s rights in Karamoja. The following were kind enough to share their time and expertise.

Milton Lopiria, Warrior Squad Foundation

Romano Longole, Kotido Peace Initiative (KOPEIN)

Patrick Osekeny, UNFPA Moroto

Mark Can Lain, International Rescue Committee

Anna Lomonyang and Patrick Lomongin, Foundation of Rural Disabled Persons of Moroto (FORDIPOM)

Ann Grace Namer, Caritas

Juliet Achieng, Karamoja Women’s Umbrella Organization (KAWUO)

Joyce Ilukori, Mother Care

Paulina Chepkumun, nurse/midwife and women’s health advocate affiliated with KAWUO

Photo by Courtney Chance, 2009 AP Fellow. Location: Kotido, Uganda. Partner: CECORE/IANSA

I feel guilty for writing a blog about Karamoja without mentioning how stunningly beautiful the region is. Karamoja feels like the ends of the earth-it is vast, flat land dotted erratically by mountains on the horizon. I have never seen the stars so brightly in all my life than under the endless Karamoja sky. Set against this backdrop are the Karimojong people who are arrayed in radiantly colored garments and adorned head to toe in intricate beaded jewelry.  The combined effect is breathtaking and utterly ethereal.

During CECORE’s workshop in Kotido with the Jie, I found it hard to believe that these were members of a belligerent clan. The people were so vibrant, constantly laughing, singing, and dancing.  In the video (trouble uploading–check back soon), you can see how they would recount what they had learned during the workshop through rhythmic chants and songs. I found the same to be true during the second workshop which included members of the Dodoth, Bokora, and Matheniko clans. Interestingly enough, all clans seemed to express similar goals, concerns, and needs. They are physically indistinguishable, yet socially constructed identities have served to perpetuate violence among the groups.

In 2001, the Ugandan government began an aggressive campaign to disarm the Karimojong. The campaign has produced mixed results. No one seems to know how many guns are now in Karamoja. Civil society organizations estimated that there were 80,000 guns in Karamoja prior to the campaign, but the government countered that figure with its own estimate of 40,000. Captain Henry Obbo, a UPDF spokesman, claims that 30,000 guns have been seized, leaving 3,000 in circulation-a figure which doesn’t seem to match up with either of the two previous assessments. When asked about how people’s attitudes on firearms have changed since disarmament began, Romano Longole of Kotido Peace Initiative (KOPEIN) reflected that now, “if you have a gun, you don’t publicize it.”

In any case, everyone seems to agree that buying an illegal gun is very easy. When I asked Francis Lomongin of FORDIPOM whether or not it is easy to obtain a firearm, he joked, “You wanna make a deal?” He told me that as long as you know who to speak to, guns can be procured very easily. In Kangole Parish, for instance, ammunition can be purchased at the weekly market. Lomongin explained that there are three primary avenues for gun trafficking: (1) through the Turkana people of Kenya who facilitate the gun trade from Kenya to Somalia, (2) directly through traders in southern Sudan who sell to buyers in Kaabong and Kotido districts, and (3) from within through UPDF officers or in some cases police officers.

Because UPDF officers receive little (and rather infrequent) pay, they have been known to sell guns and particularly ammunition to supplement their incomes.  Uganda has only one gun factory, which produces guns exclusively for the security sector. A number of the weapons that have been recovered from Karimojong warriors bear the mark from this factory, an indication that UPDF guns are being leaked to civilians. Such corruption and witch hunt tactics have tainted the army’s reputation among the Karimojong who view them with suspicion. While the UPDF deserve credit for reducing gun violence in the area, they have been accused of arbitrarily arresting cattle herders and refusing to release them until a gun is produced. Some officers have reportedly tortured detainees during interrogations to obtain intelligence. Longole claims that seven Karimojong have been killed by their fellow villagers because they were rumored to be UPDF informants.

At the same time, as the UPDF reports that they are slowly handing security over to local police forces, the Karimojong express fear over the pullout. Since the start of disarmament, the UPDF have provided security to communities that have disarmed voluntarily. The UPDF have maintained a visible presence in the area where they can be seen guarding cattle kraals or escorting migrant cattle herders. According to an article in Saturday’s edition of The Daily Monitor, “there have been increasing reports of interethnic clashes in Karamoja, an indication that insecurity caused by the presence of illegal arms in the region is still a big threat.”

As my colleagues traveled to Kangole Parish, they were met by a UPDF security escort who had been tipped off that a raid was anticipated in the general vicinity. Similarly when I spoke to Esther, who facilitates several women’s alliances in Kangole Parish, she told me that during the previous week, the Matheniko had been implicated in a raid in which one woman was shot and killed and several others critically injured. As Moroto Chairman Peter Ken Lochap told The Daily Monitor (5 September 2009), “People still live in fear, their safety is not guaranteed. People are still dying.”

Photo by Courtney Chance, 2009 AP Fellow. Location: Moroto, Uganda. Partner: CECORE/Uganda

IANSA Women's Network

IANSA Women's Network

In 2002, Ugandan Vice President Specioza Kazibwo announced that she was separating from her husband because he beat her. Many in the press (including the BBC, which provided special coverage of the story) thought that the Vice President’s candor would make the situation less shameful for other Ugandan women to come forward with similar stories. On the contrary, a number of local radio personalities and editorial columnists were quick to vilify her for making a private matter public or for making such a fuss over a “couple slaps”. The reaction from the public at large was similar. Many claimed to sympathize with her estranged husband who, in their eyes, had not deserved the public humiliation.

Unfortunately, a survey conducted by the World Health Organization (WHO) in the rural district of Rakai illustrated that the Ugandan populace has a very permissive attitude toward domestic violence. Of the 3881 men surveyed, approximately 70% claimed to believe that beating a female partner is “justifiable in some circumstances”. Even more disturbing is the fact that 90% of the 5109 women interviewed agreed with the men, claiming that women deserve to be beaten in some instances.[1]

Statistics on the prevalence of domestic violence in Uganda are limited, and the available data is likely skewed by the high rate of women who fail to report incidents or fail to classify abuse as an abnormal phenomena. As the Coalition against Gender Violence reports, “often the victims themselves are inculcated in and have internalized the culture of gender inequality such that they are not cognizant of what constitutes gender violence.”[2] Some even describe it as a form of spousal affection, a necessary disciplinary tool used to improve the wife.

The facts that are available, however, reveal an alarmingly high incidence of gender violence. According to UN Statistics, 41% of Ugandan women have experienced domestic violence. Similarly, Mulago Hospital’s prenatal clinic collected data from their patients and found that 40.7% of women had experienced violence within the year prior to conception alone.[3] Considering the large number of cases that go unreported, one can assume that at least half of all Ugandan women have been victims of intimate partner violence.

Virtually no reliable data exist on the prevalence of armed domestic violence, but anecdotal evidence combined with newspaper reports, would suggest that firearms are a common component of intimate violence, especially when used as a tool to intimidate women into submission. The presence of small arms was clearly linked to sexual violence in a study conducted by the National Focal Point on Small Arms, a governmental agency established to develop and implement the National Action Plan on Small Arms. According to the NFP’s research, within districts identified as having a high presence of small arms, the rate of sexual assault reached 19%, compared to 4% in the districts with a low prevalence of small arms. The rate of general assault rises from the national average of 24% to 41% in areas with a high concentration of firearms.[4] With men in Uganda being more than twice as likely to have access to a gun (and being much more likely to personally own one), women face a serious power imbalance.

The combination of these elements-permissive attitudes about gender violence, easy access to firearms, weak (and, in some cases, corrupt) enforcement agencies—creates a very high-risk scenario for women. Moreover, the cumulative results illustrate that domestic violence and gun violence are not disparate issues. The prevalence of small arms clearly undermines the security of the most vulnerable. An IRIN special report on  small arms summarizes the tenuous situation as follows:

“Stress in post-conflict environments, combined with the diffusion of small arms into communities, engenders a rise in intimate-partner violence. Even in nonconflict settings, women are more likely to be attacked by a partner if a gun is available; in 2003 ‘The American Journal of Public Health’ found that access to a gun increased the likelihood of a woman being killed by her husband fivefold.”[5]

Any attempt to enhance the protection of women’s rights must also examine the corollary factors that have made them so insecure in the first place. In the case of Uganda, traditional gender biases that endanger and suppress women must be challenged, and armed domestic violence must be addressed through laws that simultaneously criminalize intimate violence and also provide necessary protective measures for potential victims, such as spousal notification for firearms purchases and restrictions on gun ownership for known offenders.

[2] Human Rights Watch (HRW), Just Die Quietly: Domestic Violence and Women’s Vulnerability to HIV in Uganda, (August 2003), www.hrw.org/reports/2003/uganda0803/uganda0803.pdf. 

[3] HRW, Just Die Quietly…

[4] National Focal Point on Small Arms, Mapping the Small Arms Problem in Uganda: The development of Uganda’s National Action Plan on Small Arms and Light Weapons, (Kampala: Government of Uganda, Saferworld: May 2007).

[5] IRIN (Integrated Regional Information Network), “Small Arms, Gender, and Age,” In-Depth: Guns out of Control: The Continuing Threat of Small Arms, (May 2006),  http://www.irinnews.org/InDepthMain.aspx?InDepthId=8&ReportId=58979.

On my first full day working at CECORE, I had the pleasure of attending the national launch of IANSA’s Disarming Domestic Violence Campaign. In coordination with UANSA, CECORE organized a panel to discuss the symbiotic relationship that exists between domestic violence and small arms availability.  The following blog entry describes the day’s events and contains video clips from the participants.* I had initially planned to also write more on the status of the current draft Domestic Violence Act that was recently tabled by the Ugandan parliament. After numerous appeals over the past two weeks to obtain a copy of the legislation, however, I just now (this morning) received the document. Legislation on domestic violence is to be applauded as a welcome and much-needed measure, and the draft does finally provide accountability for marital rape, but it is lacking in so many other areas. I decided that to discuss it properly, I should feature it in a separate entry, so the following entry is Part One of Two.

Panelists from left to right are Maria Matembe, Rose Othieno, Richard Mugisha, and Joe Burua

Panelists from left to right are Maria Matembe, Rose Othieno, Richard Mugisha, and Joe Burua

On Friday, June 19, The Centre for Conflict Resolution (CECORE) and the Uganda Action Network on Small Arms (UANSA) co-sponsored the national launch of the Disarming Domestic Violence (DDV) Campaign in a conference room at the Royal Imperial Hotel in downtown Kampala.  The event featured expert panelists who spoke about the intersecting problems of domestic violence and small arms in Uganda. Rose Othieno, director of CECORE, and Richard Mugisha, UANSA coordinator, represented civil society organizations, while Miria Matembe, a former MP and Minister of Ethics and Integrity, and Joe Burua, the current director of the National Focal Point on Small Arms, provided insight into the government’s response to this problem.

Rose Othieno of CECORE introduces the campaign

Rose Othieno of CECORE introduces the campaign

Miria Matembe concurred that domestic violence in Uganda is treated as almost a “normal thing” and that officials, from police to the courts to parliament, have thus far been hesitant to take meaningful action to halt violence against women. She equates the problem with women’s overall lack of power and inferior status within society and pointed to the fact that men use small arms to maintain psychological and economic control over their spouses. Citing a recent incident from news reports, Matembe explained that women often resist leaving or pressing charges against an abusive spouse because they fear that they will not be able to support themselves financially on their own.

While Joe Burua agreed that the proliferation of small arms has led to increased levels of violence and insecurity in the region, he failed to recognize the disproportionate share of the burden that women must bear. He expressed doubts about the statistics that Ms. Othieno presented (statistics courtesy of IANSA, the World Health Organization, and The American Journal of Public Health), and he proceeded to claim that in Karamoja, women are as much to blame for gun violence as men. Rose Othieno rebutted, “We have facts to prove that women are more affected than men…The facts about who holds the gun is clear. Very few women hold the guns.” While the audience in the conference room seemed to concur with Othieno, Burua’s perspective is echoed by many Ugandans and has been a stumbling block for women’s groups seeking to put gun violence against women on the national agenda.

Matembe fields questions from television, radio, and newspaper reporters

Matembe fields questions from television, radio, and newspaper reporters

Miria Matembe spoke to the hearts of many frustrated Ugandan women when she passionately declared, “As long as the women continue to be marginalized, oppressed, and exploited…until the status of women is raised so that they are considered to be full human beings in their right, as long as society looks at them as just private people who can be violated…then the issue of domestic violence will always continue…The whole issue of domestic violence is an issue of power relations…and the gun compounds the issue of power.”

The audience, consisting primarily of representatives from the media and other civil society organizations, filled the conference room and readily expressed support for the campaign. The event received coverage on several local radio stations and appeared in an article in Monday’s edition of The Daily Monitor, a major national newspaper.

<

< >

*My apologies for occasional shakiness and awkward angles with the camera-I was trying to avoid being overly obtrusive while sharing a small space three other camcorder operators.

Photo by Courtney Chance, 2009 AP Fellow. Location: Kampala, Uganda. Partner: CECORE.

Photo by Courtney Chance, 2009 AP Fellow. Location: Kampala, Uganda. Partner: CECORE.

Ki Kati! I arrived in Kampala last week and immediately realized why Uganda is nicknamed “The Pearl of Africa”. The countryside is verdant and teeming with bougainvilleas and hibiscus flowers attended by brightly colored butterflies. From my bedroom window, I can hear monkeys, songbirds, and a constant reggae beat that seems to correspond with the respiration of the breeze. Even in the middle of the night, stereos compete for airspace. The whole city moves to a certain jaunty syncopation, its unofficial soundtrack of sorts. Approaching the city centre, music fades and gives way to car horns and engines from the endless lines of cabs and boda bodas. Street preachers and vendors, alike, sell their wares on the corner. Still, above the clamor, a faint melody diffuses into the street from storefronts, and passersby tend to  swagger in time.

Most beautiful of all, though, are the people of Uganda. Nearly everyone I meet is extraordinarily friendly and warm. I have never met people who smile and laugh as much as Kampala. The whole city just feels alive, more so than anywhere that I have ever visited. Coming from the rather impersonal hustle of Washington, DC, to Kampala is exhilarating, like waking up from a long sleep. Instead of making my way to work on a crowded commuter train, I now zip through traffic on the back of a motorcycle taxi.

Uganda’s capital, however, is a study in contrasts, with one foot in the future as a rapidly developing cosmopolitan hub and another wedged in the past, still beset by poverty and a lack of effective governance. The city’s landscape, for example, gives rise to high-rise hotels and office buildings. Cell phone vendors and taxis are ubiquitous, and supersized billboards advertise American and European brands, from Nokia to Chevy.

From the window of a speeding taxi, the city looks far more modernized than it does on foot. When I slow down, I see the woman washing laundry in a stagnant creek, the tin shanty houses that quiver precariously when the wind gusts, the man grasping a cup between two stubs where his hands once were. I smell the fumes from the traffic and the pungent smoke that rises from metal bins containing burning rubber and other waste.

More than anything though, I am struck, almost dumbfounded, when it occurs to me that I have hardly encountered anyone over the age of sixty. The curse of disease (HIV/AIDS, malaria, and a handful of generally preventable or treatable diseases) has left its mark. Armed conflict has taken the lives of others. Crime reports from local newspapers fill in another piece of the puzzle. Story after story recounts gun violence, often within a household, sometimes perpetrated by policemen or city officials. Uganda is awash with small arms. Ongoing violence in neighboring Sudan and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, the long-running conflict in the country’s northern districts, and a history of regional conflict and instability (Rwanda, Burundi, Somalia, Eritrea, Central African Republic, and so on) have made Uganda a crossroads for arms trafficking and a virtual warehouse for surplus supply.

This is what a country with a life expectancy of fifty years old looks like.† It’s a chilling realization, one that haunts you, shames you, and screams in your ear with the urgency of the moment. It becomes a constant cacophonic undertone that grates against Uganda’s effervescent beat.