assault. After rejoining the army years later she serves as bodyguard to the Minister for Records who is disgraced and China is then captured by the Ugandan secret service and is tortured for six months. It is a story from the horrors of the Ugandan civil war, one of Africa's bloodiest and longest-running conflicts, which has gone on for over 40 years and where children are abducted and forced to commit atrocities regularly (as many as 8,000 per year). China's story exposes the reality of their civil war and the terrors committed and endured by children.
and I would hate the person who laid a hand on them. But then he replied: ‘Can’t you see that our stepmother and father hate us? So why then do you have to love their goats?’ I looked down for a moment in deep thought before I answered: ‘Maybe it’s just animals, maybe they hate our father too, so let us not make them bleed for our father’s mistakes.’ I saw the smile of defeat, and it seemed to me that I had changed his mind, but still I was curious about the goats, so I asked him what we should
we said and did. She was desperately searching for a way to escape the beatings. The pain made my sister so blind to the extent of not realising the intentions of the very woman who hated us all. We could not always understand how our stepmother came to know our secrets, and when Margie looked at me suspiciously, I turned my eyes at Helen who started flicking her eyes. In a defensive manner, I told them that I had no idea. Margie thought that it could be the younger sister to our stepmother but I
forced me to cover my head. I woke up to the voice of a man commanding: ‘Left right, left right,’ and when I looked around, I saw children of different ages marching beside a man in a military uniform. I could feel an excitement growing in my stomach. It was like this brand new game, and I wished that I was there marching along with them. The man from yesterday approached me with friendly but at the same time strange eyes. Before he could speak I asked to join the others, but he refused me,
was the first to get up, and as we ate the breakfast she took my hand and spit in it. When I asked her the reason for this, she simply said that it was for my protection, though I found it hard to believe. I still said: ‘Thank you Mother.’ Soon Mother took me to a young man, who was selling a piece of land which he had inherited from his father. A small house was included in the price, as well as a banana plantation, and two huge avocado trees. It was a fair deal, so we took it. The next few days
the plate and we started pulling. Both of us lost the grip, and the plate fell to the floor. Her size didn’t matter any more, so I kicked her in the stomach. She bent forward to the blow, and I turned around, walking outside. Standing a few paces from the doorway, I heard quick footsteps at my back. I turned around, and saw Namaganda approaching with a kitchen knife. ‘Do you want to kill me?’ I asked, while I drew my pistol. I remembered my bayonet, so I put away the pistol, and there she stood