Reflections from the Hot Zone: Uganda

Justice, grace and defiance: What I learned from a pregnant 15-year-old Ugandan girl

Note: Reflections from the Hot Zone is a weekly essay that allows me to explore the more personal and emotional dimensions of reporting -- how these people, their stories and your responses to them are changing me. It is not a daily dispatch, but a personal observation piece, which is why you see more of the personal pronoun "I" in the text.

But as always the Hot Zone is about the human face of world conflict. This column, I hope, will provide additional context to allow you to see those faces more clearly and share with me their ever-growing impact.

NORTHERN UGANDA - Sitting across from this girl, and she is just a girl at fifteen, I can feel the swirl of her emotions just as plainly as I can see the swell of her belly.

Anger, sadness, silence are evident; the confusion of just how the bones of fortune were shaken and thrown in her particular case. She is, at this tender age, both victim and defiant; captive and free; wronged and avenged; child and mother.

Her circumstances I would not wish on anyone, yet an enviable grace of acceptance is firmly saddled to these feelings that dart and bound beyond her pose.

Anne was only 12 when she was abducted by the notorious Ugandan rebel group the Lord's Resistance Army. They have conducted a 20-year insurgency with the stated purpose of creating a Christian government based on the Ten Commandments.

In fact, they have created nothing more than a protracted war of terror that has killed as many as 100,000 people and displaced another 1.5 million. Their calling card is the abduction of children -- an estimated 25,000 -- who they turn into soldiers, servants and sex slaves.

Anne became one of those. After two years as a housegirl, she was given as a "wife" to a rebel unit leader. Strong and independent despite her youth, she refused him. But that did not stop him. He raped her, repeatedly, until she became pregnant.

But in a stroke of poetic justice, a bomb dropped from a Ugandan Army helicopter found its mark and killed the man.

The bomb alone didn't break the grip of the LRA. Anne would do that herself.

She told the senior LRA commander that now that her "husband" was dead, she would be a burden to the group, pregnant with no one to take care of her. He agreed. She walked away.

Now she is in the process of rebuilding her life through the help of a reintegration center that provides counseling and a path back to her family and community.

But while she is resilient, confident she can rebuild on the rubble of the past three years, she can't walk away from one thing: the baby she's now carried for five months.

A difficult thing to grasp, I think -- a world in which a bomb helps to set you free, but a baby is a constant reminder of your former prison.

She tells me honestly she will accept the child, but isn't sure yet if she can love it.

Her voice carries the sound of both wisdom and justice, and I am enriched by the power of her story. More than I know.

It's only later that I will realize Anne's story has helped me find a solution to a dilemma that I've been struggling with since coming to Africa.

For weeks I have been reporting on the tragedies and misfortunes of people trapped in the consequences of armed conflict in Africa.

Each story is important, I believe, and resonates with the common denominator of our human experience: the desire for a peaceful life and to have enough resources to take care of ourselves and our families.

But I became concerned, especially after reading some of the reader postings, that our reporting efforts* -- while certainly educating people -- could also be overwhelming them.**

"What can I do?"

"How can I help?"

"This story is so horribly sad, I just want to cry."

All valid responses, but they made me wonder if the information we were providing through story after story would eventually sap hope, rather than build it.

Part of the obvious answer for me as a reporter is to try to show the full dimension of these people's lives -- not just their suffering -- but also their silliness, their laughter, their humility, their grace.

And thinking about Anne's story, I also realized that, while it is important to take action, to be a part of the solution, a story is empowering in its own right.

Just by knowing something, being aware, maybe we become better people. Knowledge can help us to build greater empathy for everyone in our lives, not just people in Africa.

Through hearing someone's story, in all its complexities, we gain the potential to grow in kindness or generosity toward those closest to us, as well as those far away.

Which brings me back to Anne. Instead of fretting about the immediate need to do something for her when we hear the tragic aspects of her story, we should also realize how she is helping us; that her story is as much a gift to us as anything we can give to her.

When open to that idea, we're not only angered by the injustices she's suffered, but enriched and inspired by the courage and grace with which she's dealt with them.

Yes, she is a victim, but also defiant, a mother and a child. The very things that confuse her also infuse her with strength. We must be able to see and accept these roles, while seeing and accepting our own, both as generous givers and grateful recipients.

* * *

In the rare cases I can get a fast Internet connection out here, I like to skim through the reader comments. And while I can't reply to them all, I want you to know I'm aware and appreciate the responses. Especially ones like this, that are so encouraging -- even though we sometimes sputter and stumble in our attempts to do this right.

From a Hot Zone reader: I am Native American and we have a teaching about persons who are bridges from one people to another. I think that Kevin is one of these chosen people and I truly appreciate what he is doing. All the world needs to be aware when there is such evilness existing and try to do our own part in helping, even if it is just praying for the victims (and in our culture we pray for the perpetrators of evil doing, too.) I will be praying for safekeeping for Kevin also so that he can continue to be a bridge for all of us around the world.

Thank you. I hope I can live up to your beliefs and expectations and continue to be the bridge you want me to be.

--

* I am supported by a producer and a researcher in the U.S., as well as the editors, designers and technicians of the Yahoo! News team.

** This is also why we've created a "how you can help" section on the right-hand side of the site, providing links to people and organizations working to solve the problems in the regions we report on.

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