Nalwoga shared her Janda home with the NRA guerrillas

Feb 05, 2004

Billah Nalwoga, 58, had her home in Janda, Namugongo, shelled by UNLA soldiers because of her coperation with NRA guerrillas 22 years ago. <b>Hellen Mukiibi</b> found Nalwoga, who gives her account below.

-- The UNLA soldiers who raided her home, killed her man, James Mulinda

Billah Nalwoga, 58, had her home in Janda, Namugongo, shelled by UNLA soldiers because of her coperation with NRA guerrillas 22 years ago. Hellen Mukiibi found Nalwoga, who gives her account below.

It was September, 1981, when a group of people approached me as I did my laundry at the Suula stream. It was the same people whose car had, moments ago, sped past me and soiled me. They had reached my house, missed me, only to return to the stream asking whether I was Nalwoga.

They asked whether I had heard about guerrillas in Luweero, to which I said “yes”. One of them then told me that they were the rebels. I told them I was scared and asked what they sought me for. Their spokesman said they intended to use my family land which had a big forest behind my house as a hideout.

I said I would seek advice before giving them a go ahead. But they said they did not need my permission but had come to inform me that they would use the premises. I told them I would shift my family for fear of the Obote soldiers, but they advised against it, saying that they would also hunt for me, lest I disclosed their new camp. I left it all to God. They moved in that night. In the morning, their trail leading to the forest through the garden was very obvious.

They used my kitchen and kept their food in my house. They cooked one meal a day. At times I would hear of names like Kashilling but I did not know the bearer. The boys in the kitchen said they were over 70 in the camp but I did not know what happened there.
Sometimes they walked around the compound in twos or threes on return from errands around the village. All was well for about two months.

But hell broke loose on November 25, 1981 when heavily armed Obote forces raided my home at 12.30pm. The group which had been cooking fled the kitchen abandoning two huge saucepans of posho and two others full of beans.

At that moment, I was helpless. All I did was to pray to Jesus for help).

They (UNLA) demanded to know the whereabouts of the guerrillas, whose food was in the kitchen. They also inquired about the bags of maize flour and beans inside the house.
Heavy gunfire rocked the compound and the entire forest. There was a deafening sound and next minute, my house was in flames. The iron sheets were also burning.

Two civilians, James Mulinda (Margaret’s father) and one Byekwaso, who were at the house during the raid, were shot dead by the UNLA. Their bodies were never recovered.
The rest of us were matched into the forest where I saw huts without roofs and some scattered stools but not a soul in sight. It seemed the huts had previously been covered with canvas. That was my first time to visit the camp.

They threatened to kill us but some female soldier suggested that they take us to Makindye for interrogation.

The soldiers then bundled me up and, together with my two sisters and six children, we were taken to Makindye Military barracks.

My youngest child suffered measles while we were in detention at the quarter guard. My sisters and children were freed after two weeks.

My detention lasted six months –– a period of untold suffering. All women in my cell were raped (begins to cry). We received strokes of the cane everyday, some times the soldiers hit us with iron bars or logs.

We often slept hungry. At the time, I was two months pregnant and had given up giving birth to a fully developed healthy baby. I suffered more beatings when my pregnancy became obvious as soldiers demanded to know who was responsible for it.

One Moses, a prisoner, whose relatives carried food for him daily, took pity and often shared his milk tea with me and gave the children soda.

One day, they released all female prisoners, but I was detained, together with a woman on murder charges. We suffered all forms of sexual abuse. I prayed for death.

Eventually, I was moved to the soldiers’ quarters where I helped with housework. I was allowed to attend antenatal clinics in Nsambya. The soldiers promised to release me soon if I got money for their soda.

I was allowed weekend visits to relatives in Kansanga, where I would be given money to take to the soldiers. I hid some of the money to pay my hospital bills. I would always return to the barracks for fear that I would be traced and killed if I attempted to escape.
In May 1982, I was released. I walked to a relative’s home In Bweyogerere, where I reunited with my children. I later gave birth to Margaret Birabwa.

My children resumed school whose dues I paid from earnings got at Makerere University, where I was employed as a cleaner.

I feared to return to Janda and above all, I had no house. After months of refuge at Capt. Kibirige’s home, I returned here in 1987 and stayed in a make shift hut. Later in 1987, my friend Erisimus Lutaaya introduced me to President Museveni at the International Conference Centre.

The President pledged building materials and some money so that I can build a new house but I did not get all I expected. I got 40 iron sheets. With proceeds from the sale of my land, I built this house.

Saleh gave me some money recently which was handy because I managed to send Margaret to Mubende Teacher’s College. She is specialising in Fine Art. It is a very expensive subject. I would appreciate any help to educate my children.
Museveni owes me nothing because I lent him nothing.
Ends

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