Make-up post #1

I have a few things to say about Gulu that I will have to post retrospectively, because of the trouble with my computer and the lack of consistent power. Here is one of those entries.

***


I’m leaving Gulu on Saturday morning with the Post Bus. It’s about 430,000/= ($275) cheaper than hiring a car, and the money that I save … well, I might give some of it to Gladys at the front desk. She works 18 hours a day like everyone else here, and makes 80,000/= per month. That’s about $60, and not enough to eat with even in Uganda. Anyway, Atimango Gladys is special because she just got into the public administration program at Gulu University, and will be taking weekend classes so she can continue to work. For anyone counting, that’s 18 hours of work per day, 6 days per week, plus school. And she can’t afford tuition. So I was thinking maybe I would help her a little bit.

Life has gotten a lot better, with a little adjustment. The lack of water and power don’t bother me so much anymore, and the crazy rain just washes away my bad feelings. I don’t mind so much that people charge me twice the price for everything, or that the kids make a game out of who can catch the munu’s attention. “Munu” is the Acholi version of “mzungu” – white person, essentially. My friend Simone calls this “innocent racism.” The kids especially have no idea they’re being offensive. They just want to rub your arms to see whether the paleness will come off revealing darker skin underneath. It’s fascination, not hatred.

There are just so many little things to appreciate. The frogs here sound like wind chimes. The lightning is like electric diamonds. I found a supermarket yesterday, a real supermarket with boxed juice and bread. It’s run by an Indian who wanted the luxuries of home, and there are as many electronic gizmos as there are kitchen supplies. So you can pick up your television and your Cadbury bar in the same place. It’s got that thrown-together look that everything seems to have here in Uganda, but it’s the best thing I’ve found in town so far.

I also ran into a very interesting person, in my more recent explorations. Any foreigner you meet up here, anyone who isn’t associated with a major group, anyway, is bound to be really interesting. This particular gentleman runs a restaurant across the street from the Institute. It’s called Bambu, and walking in is like stepping into the idealized version of Uganda. Instead of the normal plastic chairs and plastic tablecloths advertising beer, there are real benches with foam cushions and polished wood tables. The landscaping is beautiful, and the bar is very complete. The first thing you will encounter is a stately looking older man sitting at his counter with a beer, watching the sun roll across the sky and chatting softly with his employees. Ask him how his day is going, and he responds with something pithy – “oh, a lot like yesterday.” This is what James Bond looks like when he retires. I’ve wanted to speak with this man since the first time I met him, and finally yesterday worked up the courage to say, “You know, I’m trying to think up better questions for you.”

“What?” he asked.

“Like how did you get here, what was it like setting up shop, what made you come to Uganda – that sort of thing. Slightly more stimulating than ‘how ya doin’.’”

I think this tickled him, somewhat. The mellow look on his face never changed, he just said, “Well, there’s the short answer, the medium answer, and the long answer to all of those questions.” And I knew I had him, at least for a minute. I sat him down and asked him to give me the long version. I got the medium version, until he decided he was tired of company and wandered away. Turns out he used to help the United Nations with security issues, had a café in Spain, and left it in 2005 to try his luck in Gulu. Today he’s snuggled in here with a young lady lover and the occasional Skyy Vodka. He says it raises a few of the local eyebrows, but he doesn’t really care. Now just think about this man’s timing. 2005 was when the ICC indictments came out against Kony and the LRA leaders. The first brick of this restaurant was laid down in 2006, while peace talks were ongoing. That means that the land purchase and licensing went on before that time. How did Mr. Mystery know that the talks would more or less succeed, and Kony would never return? He calls it a “calculated business risk.” I call it double-0 status.

You get fascinating people like that, up here. Like Opiyo, who is doing research on child soldiers and sex slaves for his PhD dissertation. He told me some stories that I am not allowed to reprint, stories that could make a big difference in Kony’s trial if only they are published. And if this dissertation ever makes book form, you must read it. Opiyo Oloya: Remember that name! I also met a gentleman named Callum who freelances for the BBC and Al Jazeera. He told some wild stories too, stories which I can actually retype. Callum has been coming to Uganda on and off for the past five years. He was working on a documentary for the BBC when he got a call from a buddy of his who works with the UPDF.

“We have just won a great victory against the LRA,” his friend exclaimed. “You must come see!”

And so they jumped into the friend’s car and drove from Kampala to northern Uganda, out to the village where the battle had been fought. Apparently, this particular village had only two rifles to guard itself, and the LRA took it very early on in the conflict. Winning the place back involved decimating the troops on the ground. Callum said there were about forty bodies, all told. These villages are tiny, just a small collection of shops, so that number is a lot of people.

The first thing Callum saw when he got out of the car was the body of a four-year-old boy.

“Of course, you realize that when you’re talking about a victory against the LRA, what you mean is that you’ve killed a bunch of children,” Callum explains. “I hadn’t really realized it until that point. It isn’t much of a victory.”

I could see this in my mind’s eye, dozens of corpses, all child soldiers with guns their own size. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine the hurt that their mothers feel? Can you even begin to conceive of what a nightmare this has been for Uganda?

Opiyo and Callum talked a lot about what it takes to turn a child into a killer like that, stories they discovered during interviews. The LRA abducts these kids, maybe three of them, and they make the two youngest kill the oldest child on the pain of death (their death, the deaths of their families, whatever it takes). The entire village sees this, and so the boys are ostracized. They are disowned by their remaining families and their friends. No home will take them in. Schools won’t accept them. They are considered too dangerous to interact with normal society. And so the LRA presses them into service, preying on the children’s cultural prerogative to take orders. Other soldiers beat them constantly and march the boys around in circles for days on end. The children say that they will march three days straight without sleeping, time and time again. Then, when they are finally physically broken, the senior soldiers begin to grant them respect and make these boys feel included. They are given a new identity within their community, and the need to belong somewhere is enough to make many of these children commit to a life of war. Those individuals who still retain enough of themselves to attempt escape are amazing – and there are many.

I knew all of this already. It bears repeating.

Circumstances are better today, though. Victims are going home; the IDP camps are emptying out. Some of these former child soldiers are in school, and you can watch them laughing. There are a lot of people hopping around on crutches, covered in burns or missing limbs. But that doesn’t stop them from living. They keep right on at it. I was right; when I got out here I was too overloaded to see the situation’s reality. But now I can see the exhaustion, despair, mistrust, devastation, and fortitude despite it all. These people maintain a strength that is truly inspiring.

What concerns me, though, is the way the post-conflict situation is being addressed. A lot of NGOs are reducing aid and pulling out, not really thinking about how to re-stabilize society. I talked to one guy working with the Norwegian Refugee Council. He was furious. “Everyone says return to the villages should be voluntary. But if you stop distributing food, what’s voluntary about it? You have nothing to eat, you have to start farming so maybe you can eat something next year. Meanwhile, people are starving!”

A lot of promises have not been kept. The government said it would give farmers basic tools. No such luck. Medicines donated to Uganda are spoiling at Entebbe Airport because there isn’t sufficient transportation to get them to villages up north. Civil society organizations are trying to help, but a lot of them are based in municipalities and never reach the people who need help most. And the schools are so understaffed that they ask parents to pay for extra teachers. This isn’t exactly a request to some suburban PTA; this is demanding money from war victims so that their children can be in a class of 60 or so students. That is, if the camp even has a local primary school. Many of the transition camps do not.

I’m going to stop thinking about this for a minute. I’m getting angry, when what I should really do is work on the problem constructively.

The other day I took a cue from Emily and tried to get a dress made somewhere. It was a mess, and eventually I just gave up. I guess out here, you have to have a dress so the tailors can copy the pattern. Material stores don’t even sell bolts of cloth big enough to make a dress for me, so even if I had a dress to copy, I probably would have had to make it a skirt and blouse, instead. And trying to communicate with the tailors was nasty; they didn’t really want me to hire them. Eventually I gave up and bought a book of East African poetry, instead. It’s surprisingly good; I wasn’t expecting educated literature, and this stuff is on par with the anthologies I’ve got at home.

The next day I went with Fabius and Simone to the main campus to listen in on a discussion about developing an HIV policy for Gulu University. Attitudes towards HIV patients are pretty atrocious out here. The general sentiment seems to be, “well, you asked for it!” This policy is really necessary, and I wish there were some NGOs in the area to inform the committee’s research on the matter. The university and the community both need to confirm that people with HIV/AIDS have legal rights, including the right to work in public places. And if you’re sick, that doesn’t mean God has disowned you. I heard that attitude, too.

Anyway, after the meeting the dean of students gave me a traditional dancing stick made from a cow’s tail and a cork-like staff wrapped in beads the color of Uganda’s flag. You use it to dance for the king, balancing it on your bicep while you flap your arms up and down. I was very flattered to receive a traditional gift like this. Maybe I’ll take it out clubbing, sometime.

Oh, there goes the power again …

My friend from home

I’ve met some really cool people since I’ve gotten here. There’s Opiyo, the New Vision opinion columnist who writes from Canada, and Justin Moro, another New Vision reporter. The folks here on staff are pretty incredible. One guy has a scar on his forehead that must either be tribal cutting or remnants of the war. I’m not sure which. Jackie down in reception tells me that people here work 18 hours a day, so when I hear them say they’re doing okay, I really admire them. I would not be okay with that sort of working schedule. I need at least six hours of sleep per night.

One of the best surprises here, though, was meeting Charlton. Charles is from Philly, too. He’s one of these tall, healthy people whose age you couldn’t begin to guess, and he teaches phys ed at Microsoft’s School of the Future.

I met him while I was downstairs sucking on a soda. Charles wandered into the room wearing a Penn Relays t-shirt, and he was too light-skinned to be Ugandan.

“Are you from Pennsylvania?” I asked.

The man blinked, and turned around. “Yeah, how did you know that?”

Oh my goodness. English! English without an accent and without any arrogance behind it! I was in heaven.

We wound up talking for a couple of hours. Charles, it turns out, is teaching kids at the IDP camps around here to play basketball. He says they pick it up really fast. When he talks, you can see the amazement in his face – kids who actually want to be in school, kids who have been child soldiers and sex slaves, picking up a ball and messing around and laughing. They still act just like kids, he says, despite everything.

The human spirit is really amazing. You know, we might be even more tenacious than mosquitoes.

Anyway, comparing experiences with someone else from home was illuminating. There were things I looked at but never really saw, and Charles brought that home. Likewise, it sounds like there were some things I learned that he hadn’t. So we really helped each other out. It’s good to have a travel buddy. Makes me feel all glowy inside.

Anyway, Charles left this morning three weeks ahead of schedule. He says he’s worried about a flare in violence because of the Bashir indictment, but honestly I think it he’s leaving because he misses his fiancée. He’s so smitten, always talking about her. It makes me very happy to see healthy relationships like his. (Also, the judges probably won’t issue an arrest warrant for another week, and Khartoum is pretty far away to worry about violent spillover.)

But while he was here, it felt like being in college again, hanging out with Suzanne and John and Taylor in the cafeteria. Those were great days, when I knew a friend would always be around for dinners, laughs, and good stories. This was the same. I got to look at all of Charles’ wonderful photographs. He is very talented; no automatic camera adjustments for him. He has an eye and the expertise to compose really great images.

And speaking of a small world, it turns out he knew Carolyn and Jennifer. Have I written about them yet? I’m not sure, so I’d better jot down a recap, just in case I haven’t.

Carolyn Davis used to be an editorial writer for the Philadelphia Inquirer. She has a great eye for social causes and wound up in Uganda, oh, probably back in 2005 or so, just to see what effects war had on the country. We all worried about this woman traveling out to Uganda where malaria was prolific and the LRA was still very active, but she went with human rights activist John Prendergast, and when she came back she had amazing stories about Kitgum and Gulu and Pader. One of the stories that trip inspired focused on Jennifer Anyayo, a young Acholi woman and burn victim. LRA soldiers invaded her home, shot her father, forced her into her hut, and set it on fire. They told her not to come out, and she says that they laughed while she screamed. Anyway, the fire took most of her face and part of one hand before the soldiers left and neighbors came to pull her out of the fire. It’s amazing that she lived.

Actually, Jennifer is one of the reasons I decided to go to law school. After seeing what happened to her, and what was happening to so many people in Uganda, I couldn't just keep ignoring the basic, fundamental suffering that children were going through on a daily basis. If it weren't for Carolyn's story about her, I probably would never have come to Uganda.

We did what we could for the girl. We brought Jennifer to the United States for a year’s worth of reconstructive surgery. It didn’t really do anything to improve her physical appearance, but there were certain functional benefits – she has eyelids, now, and a bit of flap where her nose used to be. Also, she learned a lot of English and took some intensive tutoring, which hopefully caught her up a little bit in school.

Charles had read all about this story and contacted Carolyn to learn more about Uganda. He was especially struck by a photograph of four girls playing netball at sunset. He said that he just knew he would have to go and be with these people. So he hooked up with an organization that brings sports to war-affected youth, and he did what he could to make the kids happy.

I like that. Charles was really polite around people too, not brash and bossy like a lot of the tourists I’ve seen. I trusted him almost immediately – in fact, on the night of the white ant invasion I even sent him an SOS by cell phone (“help bugs please call reception I cant leave my mosquito net”), but he had traveled that day and was sound asleep.

Being around him just made me feel better about everything. He kept saying that I was a good traveler, that he would learn a thing or two from me. That made me laugh, especially after the insect invasion. Me? A good traveler? What do I know? The only advice I really gave him was that trick about net tucking.

Hotels should post instructions for those things. Oh well.

Later we went to Binen, a local restaurant, where I introduced him to goat stew and bo’o. We talked a lot about his kids and our travels, and he kept going on about people’s living conditions. I’m so busy psyching myself up to handle things, I sometimes miss the conditions that other people are living in. Here are kids playing soccer next to a sewage drain, jumping right into the effluent to fetch the ball. There people are living right next to a garbage dump, in tiny little concrete homes that Charles compares to a catacombs. I hadn’t really thought about it like that. When I look, I see the kids playing outside, the cat and the ducks and the laundry hanging on a line, and my mind stops there as if it refuses to see the negative. It’s nice in some ways, but I need to accept the whole picture.

Anyway, I’m going to miss my hometown friend. Charles, if you ever see this, I’m wishing you safe travel back to Kampala and the United States. It was great meeting you. Hope to see you and Deirdre back in Philly.

What would you do?

Anyone arrested or detained on a criminal charge shall be brought promptly before a judge or other officer authorized by law to exercise judicial power and shall be entitled to trial within a reasonable time or to release. It shall not be the general rule that persons awaiting trial shall be detained in custody, but release may be subject to guarantees to appear for trial, at any other stage of the judicial proceedings, and, should occasion arise, for execution of the judgement.

International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, Article 9 sec. 3


[post redacted for security purposes]

Advocacy and cattle raids

It looks like I am in charge of organizing and hosting the UCICC's annual general meeting. I just found out today. I have three days to figure everything out, from budget requisitioning to catering to minutes to scheduling. After that, we will be traveling north to Karamoja, and I will be out of commission for a full week. The UCICC meeting is two days after I come home.

I guess it's not that bad, except that I have to write and organize a petition to the Parliament of Uganda, first. That part ... yeah. That's going to take time. Petitions out here are published as books. The sample copy of a Kenyan petition that I'm holding in my hand right now is about 40 pages long. And I have to figure out how to distribute this thing, and get the signatures for it. So I broke out in a cold sweat when I heard the news this afternoon. Advocate for the nationalization of the Rome Statute? Me? Well, if you say so.

On the other hand, psh, I can totally handle it! I've already got a five-page document, and I've barely started. It's just surprising, suddenly becoming the point person for a national campaign after having been here for only two weeks. I kind of love it. And I feel much less guilty about not having written memos or opinions, now.

The trip to Karamoja actually gives me more concern. Supposedly we have to arrange a military escort. The soldiers will be there as an extra precaution, but I'm still nervous. There are a lot of cattle raiders in that district, and I don't mean cute cowboys with spangled outfits. I have a friend who got caught in one of those raids, once, and had to duck under her counter while gunfire whizzed overhead. I suppose I'm not in as much danger as my journalist friends who have spent time in Iraq and Jerusalem, but then, I never intended to put myself in a potentially dangerous situation, either. So I'm trying not to think about it. It's funny, because you ask people here if it's safe, and they say "Sure, it's safe!" Then they talk about potential guns and death while I quietly try to slow my heart rate.

Please don't tell Mom until I'm back in Kampala safely. She's already so scared, she can barely speak coherently. Poor Mom. This internship is a lot harder on her than it is on me.

Anyway, I'm going to get back to working. These next two weeks are going to be busy. Do me a favor and send me an e-mail to let me know how you're doing. It feels so good to hear from people in the United States. Like strawberry ice cream on a muggy day in Philadelphia.

Workin' on the railroad

I was chatting with Alejandro on Skype today, and he asked me what I was doing.

//Chewing some really tough beef,// I typed, trying not to get juice splattered on the keyboard. But that wasn't what he meant.

//No, I mean at work!// the response came.

Oh, that. I guess I haven't written much about that, because this part of my life, anyway, is easy. The Uganda Coalition for the International Criminal Court is a tiny organization, not even a full-fledged NGO. The full-time staff in our bureau is one lawyer who knows quite a bit about the ICC but is actually more of an advocate for victims' rights. The rest of us are interns. I've already seen two people cycle out on their way back to school. Apparently there are other bureaus scattered throughout the country, with a focal person in each office. Their job is to educate people in the region about the activities of the ICC, discuss the many forms of justice available in Uganda, and advocate for victims' rights. This manifests as training sessions with police officers, university outreach, fundless campaigns for legislation, regional information sessions with locals, more intensive sessions about the ICC for paralegals, playwriting, poster making, and generalized public relations. We write articles, visit courts when human rights cases are involved and talk with advocates, magistrates, justices, and members of Parliament.

The work is really very similar to what I did for the newspapers. At first I was a little bit nervous. Onyango or one of the interns would hand me a paper and ask, "Can you type this for me?" I began to worry that they were doing this because I am a woman, therefore I must be more like a secretary. But as time went on, I discovered that this is actually because I'm the only person here who can really type. Everyone else in the office hunts and pecks, and it takes them ages to type up a manuscript I can have completed in a few minutes.

I've spent the bulk of my time building a web site for the organization. You can check it out at www.ucicc.org. I've also set up a Facebook group for the UCICC, and a MySpace profile comes next. The UCICC has very little notoriety outside of Uganda, so I am trying to develop a presence online. Hopefully it will help us find sponsors. I've also drafted a few information packets, drawn up a poster, generated some logos, read through the 1995 Uganda Constitution, edited a paper for a university outreach session, helped with logistics for the annual general meeting, and written letters to Parliament. Nothing fancy at all. I can tell you a lot more about the Rome Statute and the structure of the ICC now than I could have two weeks ago, I know the exact date Uganda ratified the treaty (14 June 2002), and I can rattle off the names of the five LRA leaders for whom the ICC has issued a warrant: Joseph Kony, Okot Odhiambo, Vincent Otti, Raska Lukwiya, and Dominic Ongwen.

That's about it.

Really, the work is simple and quiet. It takes me a long time to get anything finished, but only because of connectivity issues and power fluctuations. Also, because people here like to talk. But talking is how I do most of my learning, and I don't regret a minute of it. Today I got to play with a baby. That was fun. Babies smell good. Everyone said she looked like me, then asked when I was going to have a child. I can't seem to convey that I am not exactly hot stuff in the United States. To them, over 20 and you get married. That's that.

I guess this pace is what I need, after last year. It's allowing me to shore up the few strands of self-respect I've got left, which is good, because our readings at school have been hard to swim through and I haven't tested well. At least I know that I can be useful in the world of NGOs. I've been setting people up with e-mail addresses and teaching staff the basic elements of photography, videography, and web site creation. The women in HURINET-U's capacity building department are especially happy about that.

I do wish I had more legal work to do. Alejandro has been writing policy papers in Hong Kong, and Emily is drafting court opinions. That sounds awesome! I'm trying to read what they've done, so I can learn from them, too. It makes me a bit nervous to know that I'll be going to a firm next summer with only partially relevant professional experience. To feel better, I tell myself that by the time I'm done I'll have lived for ten weeks in a developing country, handled sickness and financial trouble and pushy men and communication issues, and supported a drive to pass implementing legislation for the ICC. It's not like I haven't gotten a lot out of this, already, right?

There are a few interesting subjects I've come across that we didn't mention in class, too. National corruption is a big one. I'll write more on that in another post. Reasons for implementing ICC legislation is a big question, too. A lot of people here truly believe that the only purpose for embracing the ICC is to end the war in the North. They're not thinking longterm about the resolution of potential future violations or jurisdictional issues such as rationae personae.

This morning I had a fantastic conversation with a young man who is trying to categorize victims of the war in the North. His thoughts were very interesting. You have rape victims, land mine victims, victims of (generalized) violence, child soldiers, torture victims, and the list goes on. If you lump all of those people into one category and grant them some award, how should that award be divided? Who has suffered more, and who will need more for recovery? I gave him some information about victim participation in ICC trials, but I'll bet his report will be a lot more detailed than that.

Since brevity is the soul of wit, I will be brief. There is a lot to learn here. Maybe not book learnin', but that's not my comparative strength, anyway. It's experience, and all the richness of life.

Trust, Government, and Corruption

On Friday, the parent network that sponsors the Uganda Coalition for the International Criminal Court held its Annual General Meeting. HURINET (Uganda) is a HUman RIghts NETwork of about 270 NGOs throughout the country -- although I am under the impression that most of these NGOs are regional divisions of the same body. Once a year they come together to review accomplishments, reinforce goals, discuss strategy and elect new officers. It was great for me, because I met folks from different human rights organizations all over Uganda. The oldest (and hence most respected) member of the network works in Gulu. He's a very nice man named Otto I hope to visit next month. I also met a lady from an organization called Hope After Rape, and others from an organization that rehabilitates torture victims. They all seemed willing to share information and tour me around their organizations. One woman even told me she was going to be my other mother in Uganda. (It was a sweet gesture, but she left before I could give her my e-mail address or phone number.)

I was assigned to take minutes. And I did, too -- 25 pages worth of notes. I guess schools here don't teach kids to type without looking, because people kept approaching me about how fast I could move my fingers. I'm not a fast typist by U.S. standards, but I had a small audience when I described the learning method: practicing the home row, branching off from that, covering your hands with paper so you can't see the keyboard ...

The meeting itself began normally enough. A professor gave a very fine speech on the differences between networks and networking, and the reasons why so many networks fail. The chairman of the organization followed with a welcome, and then the secretary of the organization reviewed the previous year's minutes. During the review, a very heated debate came up about a civil suit brought against the state by HURINET. I've since discussed the conversation with UCICC members, and here is what I pieced together about the facts:

Certain individuals were accused by the national government of being members of a rebel organization called the PRA. According to one HURINET staff member, this PRA doesn't actually exist -- it's a figment of the government's imagination, a mechanism used to condemn political threats like President Museveni's primary campaign opponent, Besigye. The government line is that the PRA is planning a coup. The staff member I spoke with said this isn't true, it's only government paranoia.

But forget, for a moment, whether or not the PRA exists. A number of men were put in prison. At a pre-trial hearing, a judge set bail for these individuals. The accused paid the set amount and were free to leave prison. Only the state refused to give the men up; Some of the men remained in prison for much longer, and at least one is still incarcerated.

HURINET brought a complaint seeking the release of two accused parties. The lawyers were concerned that the government had circumvented the rule of law to keep a number of individuals detained. One staff counselor was sent to represent their case. The state was represented by eight attorneys.

Now here's the kicker, here's why the folks at the Annual General Meeting were upset: One of the government attorneys happened to be the vice chair of HURINET. Nathan Twinomugisha is a founding member of HURINET on the staff of an amnesty organization run by the government. He accepted payment to attend this trial in Swaziland and act on the government's behalf against his own organization. His actions at trial may not have been so bad; apparently, all he did was explain to the Court what amnesty was; according to the HURINET counselor, he didn't say a word at the trial. Explaining amnesty would actually work in favor of the accused, who would be given a temporary reprieve from arrest. So the problem was not what Twinomugisha said, if he in fact said what he claimed. The problem is that he concealed his participation in the trial from the board and body of HURINET. That hiding was enough to call his entire behavior into question. HURINET staff members wanted to know -- had he revealed any secrets about the organization? Had he revealed their counselor's strategy? How far would the man go, for government money?

Here in Uganda, as in many East African nations, human rights workers see the government as the enemy. The government is the perpetrator of the most greivous human rights violations; the government is the threat to civilization. This presents two interesting conundrums:

1. If the government, the force that regulates civilization, is also a corrupting influence, how can that civilization possibly be sustained?

2. If human rights workers refuse to work within the government, how will that government ever come to believe in human rights?

I posed the latter question to various members of HURINET, and they bristled somewhat. The line is clear enough to them: human rights good, government bad. For me, the two have to be reconciled or both will face extinction. I believe Twinomugisha made a mistake, going off to this trial without alerting the HURINET board first. It's as if Dick Cheney accepted a large sum of money to secretly attend an Al Qaeda training camp -- even if his mission were to dissuade terrorists from attacking, U.S. citizens would still question his actions. All the same, though, I found the conversation distressing. The underlying insinuation was that no government employee should ever be involved with HURINET, and no human rights worker should ever get involved with the government.

If human rights workers never become legislators, how will human rights ever be incorporated into the law?

If the government keeps flaunting human rights, how will people ever trust their elected officials enough to allow for a stable government?

And if you can't trust the human rights workers to be free of corruption, who the hell can you trust?

I'm including my notes on the discussion, below. I know it's odd to include meeting minutes in a blog, but I found the argument very interesting.


Speaker 1: The rumor is with my ears that a member of HURINET represented the state. Would someone give us the real truth?

Prior Attorney: My response would be that the state was represented by eight lawyers. These eight were seated on one side, and I was seated on the other side. The lead counselor for the state was the solicitor general. The other eight lawyers were together and did not speak. Now, maybe (name redacted), it would be good to mention the name so that I can confirm whether the person was there or not.

[Goes through the list of counselors he can remember.]

Speaker 1: The vice chair participated. The vice chair has an interest. I don’t know whether that is not tantamount to what you lawyers would call a “conflict of interest.” If I were in Nathan’s position, I would decline. To me, that poses a problem. It is like shooting yourself in the foot. That is all I can say for now.

Speaker 2: There are many of us who are members of human rights organizations but also act in other capacities in our professions. From what we know of Nathan Twinomugisha, he has demanded to explain to whoever needs to know the process of amnesty. I wonder if explaining the process of amnesty conflicts. I know, because I am a lawyer, that this is not a problem. He does not prosecute because he is not a part of the ministry of justice.

National Coordinator: The issue here is that the board of HURINET received a communication from a person who was in Swaziland attending a session, who had accosted the vice chair there and actually thanked him for coming to represent HURINET. The vice chair actually corrected him and said “I am on the other side; I have not come to represent HURINET.” The matter was brought before the board, and a communication was made to the vice to explain what his situation was, but also the lawyer who participated and represented HURINET was asked to make a submission. What was at issue was not talking to PRA suspects and advising them. What was at issue was that the advice was at a closed session in Swaziland and was part of the group of eight that acted against HURINET. We received communication, but it is not for me to declare what the board decided or resolved.

Speaker 3: Are these two suspects out on bail, now? I ask because there is no information, but I happened to meet one of the suspects at a funeral. He is out on bail, and he has to report three times a month in Ajumani, Arua and Kampala.

Secretary: Yes, the PRA suspects were released, but on very stringent terms. Let me call the meeting to order.

Prior Attorney: One person is still in detention and has not been let out.

Secretary: Should we consider this right now, or should we give it another moment and discuss it in detail? I would like to get a consensus from the members.

Speaker 4: I believe in a fair hearing. We are all human rights activists who believe in a fair hearing. We have the person accused here, in our midst. Let’s hear from him, and hear what exactly happened. It seems like we are condemning him without hearing what has happened.

Secretary: It seems like, from the speaker, it seems like we are in consensus about discussing this now. I suggest that I hand over the microphone to the chairperson to lead us in this discussion and start with his view on this matter.

Chairperson: Thank you very much, Secretary. Definitely, we will give an opportunity to Nathan to illustrate his view, but we welcome any person to give it. But I would remind you that our lunch there is getting cold. A communication was received from “a friend of HURINET.” He wrote an e-mail to me as chairperson saying that he was disturbed that our vice chairperson was attending a session in Swaziland. Our communication to the African Commission was being heard, but he was on the other side. He was saying that this was not acceptable. How could we have somebody on our board speaking against us? He thought that the board should consider this issue as a conflict of interest, and he was saying that we should actually, if possible, take disciplinary action against the vice. But we said, before we do that, we should give him an option to explain himself. We wrote to the vice asking if it was true, if he was there, and also why he acted that way and compromise his position on the board? At the same time, we also wrote to our lawyer in Swaziland to tell us what the position of Nathan was. As the lawyers explained, Mr. Nathan was on the other side, the side of the state, defending the action of the state. Nathan explained his position in writing that yes, he was there, but that he did not talk during the session. Later on, we invited him and other members of the board to a special board meeting, and this was one of the issues we wanted to talk about. At the end of it all, Nathan admitted that it was an error on his part, and if there was any other African Commission session, he wouldn’t sit there. He admitted that he was on the other side and made an error to have done that. We would like to hear as much from you as possible, but the board’s view is that at all times, we should be united. We should be seen to be acting together. We should not act in any way that would indicate that we are not together. The board took this as a very, very serious issue. I am glad that, at the end of it, Nathan admitted that it was wrong for him to have done that. That is where it is at the moment. Is there anything else I have left behind? Okay, then I would like to give Nathan a chance to respond.

Nathan: It is true that I wear another heart. In an organization, you will find many members. When this opportunity came, the Amnesty Commission said to go and explain what amnesty is. I asked them to put in writing what I was supposed to say, and I have the letter here. You see, many countries don’t know what amnesty is. They wanted me to explain to the African Commission what amnesty was. When I arrived there, someone explained to me that HURINET had filed a case against the state. Actually, I played a very, very little role. This communication was not going to be heard if I were not in Swaziland. The lawyer from HURINET had not arrived, and the case had already been postponed. I told them the lawyer from HURINET is coming, please be patient. I told them “please don’t go.” If they had left, this case was not going to be heard. They said, “do you know this lawyer?” I said “yes,” because I was staying almost in the same room. They agreed with me, and they waited. So you should be thanking me that this case was heard. I never uttered any word. My interest was, I just sat. I never uttered one sentence. And so I never prejudiced the case. I have been with them, I have given their human rights, I have given them amnesty.

Chairperson: Any reaction? Let’s have ten minutes.

Speaker 5: What Nathan has said really doesn’t convince me, because you fly all the way from Uganda and you do nothing, and you try to convince me. Mr. Chairman, this is very, very serious. When he came back, he should have been suspended immediately from his vice chairmanship. That is how things are done. And he is sitting there comfortably right next to you. Are we becoming part of propaganda machinery for the government? How will we know what you are telling the lawyers that were representing the government? The court has awarded billions of shillings, and no one has paid. The victims are there. This is a very serious matter. Thank you very much.

Speaker 6: Chairman, thank you, and members, thank you. I think, to me, if we are fighting for human rights, we need every available avenue to do it. If Nathan happened to be on the other side and convinced the other members to see it the way HURINET sees it, then he is the mole. He was there on the path of the Amnesty Commission. Are we going to say, anyone who does anything for the government should not be one of us? It is not an issue, it is good, we should have more members on the other side.

Speaker 7: Thank you, chair. I was one of the ones who went with HURINET. We were disappointed by the rumor, but we can confirm it. I don’t condemn Nathan to have gone there and do what he did. Just as we heard here from the secretariat that HURINET is a mirror, and it reflects good, and it reflects also bad. So, what went on in Botswana is exactly what is before us. Nathan already explained, but in the back of my mind as a lawyer, I would have said “I am involved with HURINET. Please send another lawyer if one is available?”

Speaker 8: Where are our professional ethics? You, as a lawyer, you have professional ethics. Two, as vice chairperson of HURINET, you should have absconded from going there. Three, how do you go to do nothing and just keep quiet? The board should have noted that this was a conflict of interest. We have standing, governing policies.

Speaker 9: Thank you, Mr. Chairman. My standing here is not to convince, but let us try to reason. Let us ask ourselves what was our vice’s motive, doing this? We’ve heard a presentation in the morning about networking. We brought our vice chairman on board because of how we think he could have been of help to us. I know he is very useful. Let us refer to what went wrong. If we knew HURINET had interest in that case, HURINET should have known that he was going to speak against HURINET. He should have consulted us and seen how we reacted. If he had a spirit of putting HURINET down, we should have seen that motive. If he had motives other than that, maybe we can make use of him in these issues. Let us push HURINET as a network. If he feels that he cannot uphold the values of HURINET, then the (inaudible).

Speaker 10: We can only condemn Nathan if the constitution prohibits what he did. If the constitution does not prohibit what he did, then condemnation would be improper. You must disclose that you have an interest here, to declare. He disclosed and participated, so the decision is for the members to make.

Speaker 11: We have been given these papers considering the activities here. He went there escorting the other team. In this paper, in number five, they list the lawyers. In number six, they say “the abovementioned government lawyers consulted together to defeat …” (etc.) With all these documents, it becomes very hard to convince me otherwise of the role of Nathan.

Speaker 12: At least I’ve heard from the other side. What I’d like to tell everyone here is that we should look at our constitution. We need to resolve this matter. We asked Nathan what he did, and the other lawyer can bring out something. If what Nathan did, because the issue at hand is now what Nathan did, is it a conflict of interest? We may have to make a decision. If it is not in conflict, then we will have to see what to do.

Speaker 13: Thank you, Mr. Chairman. I wanted to ask a question. Mr. Twinomugisha was sent by the government to explain what the amnesty act was all about. (Inaudible.)

Speaker 14: Thank you, Mr. Chairman. Having heard all this about Nathan, I would say that if Nathan is abrogating HURINET’s constitution, then he should be liable for that. (Inaudible.) He should cease to be the chair.

Chairman: The position of the board, you have heard it. We met, we heard from both sides, and Nathan said he had made an error. But if the AGM has got something else they would like to do, then that is it. You are the supreme body of HURINET. You either accept the judgment on his side, that he would not do it again, and that was enough. Or if that is not enough, it is up to you to take some other action. Therefore, what I am proposing is that we have some people from the floor proposing a way forward on this: Whether you want to leave it on the level that the board had left it, or you want to go forward. I would like to hear from one or two people to suggest a way forward on this, and then we close. Before that, I would like the National Coordinator to read out some relevant sections which the board actually considered when we heard this news of apparent conflict of interest, and which we thought we would use.

National Coordinator: Concerning the matter, inasfar as the constitution is concerned, this is what it provides:

The general meeting may remove from office on any of the grounds:
1. Using the funds of the network
2. Acting contrary to the interest of the network
3. Vote of no confidence, when 2/3 of the members of the committee are in attendance

Speaker 1: Mr. Chairman, I would like to cite an incident which happened in 2001, when I was on the board as vice-chair. Our secretary, without consulting, joined a campaign team for the president. We communicated to her that it would be in her best interest that she resign, and she did. If I were Nathan, I would bow out like a gentleman. But he is unremorseful.

Nathan: He is quoting an affidavit that is not dated. Should we take this paper as anything? When was it made? Read it!

[Proposed and seconded that there be a vote of no confidence.]

Chairman: Before we take a vote, let’s hear from one more person.

Speaker 15: Are we doing enough to self-regulate and make sure we admit credible institutions with our best interests at heart. We get our mandate from the Constitution of Uganda, Article 38. We become an entity that can be sued or to sue. (Etc. Too rapid to transcribe.)

Chairman: In the meantime, Mr. Nathan be suspended from the Board.

Speaker 16: Inaudible.

[Argument ensues about whether 2/3 of the members are present]

[Break for lunch]

[Welcome back]

Chairperson: There was discussion with legal officers of HURINET to advise us on the way forward, and the advice is that the board should go back and make a definite resolution on this and then report back to the body. This is because the provisions in the constitution do not actually support the motion of suspension. If you members agree that this motion is withdrawn, and you can agree with the suggestion of the legal officers that the board goes back and takes a definite stand on this, which then, when they do that, they will advise the members of the network – is that acceptable? I would like to spend maybe five more minutes on this.

Speaker 1: I want clarification, because Nathan is on the board of the Human Rights Commission, and I have heard that he is no longer on the board.

Chairperson: That Nathan is not the vice chairperson.

Speaker 2: The members are the ultimate owners of the organization.

Speaker 3: This is timely advice. We were acting on rumors. We should leave it to the board.

Speaker 4: The constitution is very silent to such scenarios. We might need to get back to that chapter.

Speaker 5: Who is superior? The board, or the AGM?

Speaker 6: We have a competent board, and we are going to have elections. Let’s leave it to the new board to come up with something, and if they fail, they can come back to the AGM.

Board Member: Thank you, chair. The board looked at this situation, and you have heard our position. Let’s resolve it, because it has ongoing implications, some financial. We may have to call another general meeting.

Nathan: I agree with what the legal minds have said. It would be sad for a human rights organization to ignore a constitution.

Speaker 7: This is a very contentious issue, and I am not convinced because you did not address it at all. Did you have a hidden agenda? Let us finish it today and afresh.

Speaker 8: We have a constitution. Let’s stand by it. The people we are dealing with are people who have dealt with legal issues. Maybe the vice chair will leave the seat. You can’t tell.

Speaker 9: I believe that an extraordinary meeting of the board was called, it should have been put on the AGM to consider. But since it was raised as a rumor by one of our members, we should throw it back to the board to consider, and then take their minds.

Legal Advisor: I know this is a contentious issue, and we would like to dispense with it today, but where there is a constitution, our hands are tied. There are three relevant positions that we have looked at. One of the most appropriate things to do would be for the Board to meet and vote on the matter. They would inform you at the next AGM. That is article 10. The other provision is to come from the board, and not from you as the AGM. It is a 2/3 majority of the board that must make a vote of no confidence. The board has the power to vote and then make a recommendation to the AGM. The constitution does not tell us what the AGM can do. We cannot say that you can vote on it, because the constitution does not say anything. Then, the other provision is for the members of the AGM to move a vote of no confidence by 2/3 of the board. But there must be notice at least one month in advance, and there was none.

Chairperson: It seems like there is consensus that the Board is being given the responsibility to go back and reconsider this issue. Number two, it also gives homework. My advice here is to think about this issue. This gives time for Nathan to resign or whatever. Sometimes, in the interest of an organization you say “let me do this” rather than going all the way to the supreme court. Is there anyone with a serious objection to our going back as a board to resolve this as Nathan thinks about this issue?

Speaker 10: As the legal advisor said, our hands are tied.

Chairperson: Thank you very much. We move on.