African Women Writing Resistance: An Anthology of Contemporary Voices

Excerpt from Child Soldier: Fighting for My Life

Editor’s note: We enter China’s story when she is eight years old, on her own, and is picked up by soldiers from the National Resistance Army (NRA), an opposition militia headed by Yoweri Museveni. China began her testimony with the following dedication: “I would like to dedicate this book to all child soldiers who are alive, and to those who didn’t make it. May your souls rest in peace.” A Mark for Life I stood on the main road, deciding whether to go back to the old man. I would tell him what had happened. Maybe he would let me stay and work for him. I felt scared standing out there with the moon and stars with their bright light shining brighter than any streetlight. I walked and walked, and after some time I noticed something was wrong. I hadn’t seen the old man’s house and wondered whether it was the same way I had come the day before. 248 Excerpt from Child Soldier: Fighting for My Life China Keitetsi I couldn’t feel my body. I stood there trying to think, and when I couldn’t find a solution, I got on a train. I woke up when the train stopped and it was still night outside. I got off the train and walked until I saw the end of the road. All my fear had gone and I felt stronger than ever. Then I saw a flash of light and thought of turning back. I was exhausted. I decided to walk toward the light but was stopped by a man’s voice. “Stop! Who are you? Come closer,” he ordered. He was surprised when he looked down at me. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” he asked. “I’m looking for my mother,” I replied. He pointed his torch at me and asked about my father. “He’s dead,” I lied. I was still answering questions when a group of men appeared from the bush with guns on their shoulders. Everybody stood there looking at me and I was very afraid. I relaxed when some of the men began to speak my language. All of them were very dirty, and they were dressed in torn clothes. The man seemed content with my answers and told me to go to sleep. I was puzzled and kept on looking at him, wondering where the house and bed were. Suddenly he smiled and laid two torn blankets on the ground. He told me to go to sleep. Although the blanket smelled bad, mosquitoes forced me to cover my head with it. 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 next to a man in military uniform . I could feel an excitement growing in my stomach. It was like a brand new game and I wished that I was there marching along with him. The man from yesterday approached me with friendly but strange eyes. Before he could speak, I asked to join the others, but he refused because of my swollen feet. Soon after getting up, we all had to leave. I couldn’t understand why. Some of the children knew why. They said that the NRA had just attacked Kabamba military barracks, and we had to move to a new place. The NRA had many groups and each one had its own operational areas. We never stayed in one place. We were always on the run from the government army. We moved our camp to another place, and on the third day I was allowed to join. I felt excited as I marched alongside with them. After what might have been two hours of marching, we had a break of fifteen minutes. The grown-ups sat alone and the children sat in groups. I sat alone looking at their faces. Many of the children seemed to have been there for some time. It was hard for me to join in with them because I didn’t speak their language. After the break, some were lined up behind gun lines at a practice site. There were twelve children, each with an AK-47. They had a few seconds to dismantle their guns and to put them back together again. Excerpt from Child Soldier: Fighting for My Life 249 The following...