Redefining Africa's Future

Unarmed civilian peacekeeping plays a vital role in conflict zones. Most international peacekeepers engaged in this type of work are deployed in countries other than their own. That means they shed light on what’s happening locally. Their presence allows the world to see what’s happening in places affected by conflict through the eyes of someone who isn’t directly involved. This is what makes unarmed civilian peacekeeping so important. These peacekeepers are independent. They engage impartially with government, civil society, and armed groups. They monitor, listen, and report what they see in an honest and balanced manner. Because of that, all the parties know someone is watching. And that alone can act as a kind of deterrence, like a silent warning. No one wants to be seen as the one violating people’s rights or breaking peace agreements. So, even if it doesn’t completely stop the violence, it makes actors involved in conflict think twice. But for this work to succeed, both sides ...

  When I was a child growing up with my siblings and our mother in Gulu City, Uganda, I had a limited understanding of what leprosy was. If I saw someone with signs and symptoms of leprosy on the road, I didn't want to greet them. I would simply run. I thought that even saying hello might infect me. I recall saying prayers that my family members do not get the deadly disease. That is how deeply I feared it. Back then, in the 1990s, it was common to see people with leprosy disease where I lived. Little did I know that one day, leprosy would not just come near me but inside our house, and this experience never left my memory.   My mother was a teacher at a Primary School in the west of present-day Gulu City. We lived in the teachers' quarters, which was basically a compound of grass-thatched tukuls. My mom had the main tukul, which included a sitting area and a bedroom. My sisters shared the kitchen tukul as their bedroom, and I, being the only big boy, slept in another kitc...

I still remember the year 2000 as if it were just last week. That was the year I completed my Ordinary Level Education at Bishop Angelo Negri College in Gulu, a city in the North of Uganda. Back then, there was a belief in northern Uganda that if you wanted to truly make it academically, you had to attend school in the central region, especially in Wakiso and Kampala. Schools in the central region were seen as academic powerhouses – thanks to the legacy of colonialism. And like many students from the north, my cousin Ocen and I were swept up in that belief.   So, with our minds full of hope and bags packed with ambition, we set off to Kampala to look for admission to some of the "powerful" schools. The problem? We had no direct admission into any government school, which was our preference. And we didn't know Kampala well at all. I had last been there in the early '90s, and Ocen had only passed through once. To make matters worse, we had no relatives in the city, ...

I tasted alcohol and its most devastating effects on the very first day I tasted Pagee Wine from St. Mary’s Lacor in Gulu, Uganda, in 1998. Pagee Wine is a local wine made from pineapple. Even though that moment happened nearly 27 years ago, just the thought of walking back into that local drinking joint in Lacor and catching a sip of Pagee Wine still sends a wave of anxiety through me. Back then, secondary schools were a breeding ground for teenage experimentation with smoking and alcohol, a lot of it fueled by the pressure to fit in with the crowd.   How It All Began I joined Bishop Angelo Negri College in 1998, a prestigious boarding school I had long admired. However, looking back, it's clear that my time at Negri College could have easily been described as a jungle. The school was full of wild characters; some boys chased after girls, others escaped school to drink and dance, and a few were bookworms. We had a mix of wealthy students and those from humble backgrounds, an...

Dear Honorable Akol and Mapenduzi,   I write to you not only as members of Parliament but as sons of Acholi, a region that has endured significant poverty and underdevelopment under the current regime. Recent news reports have suggested that you both have defected to the National Resistance Movement (NRM) party. However, some of your critics claim that you both joined the NRM some time ago and that it is only now that you have made your defection public. Whether this defection occurred recently or some time ago, I believe it is a moment that deserves reflection, especially for two individuals who have long been part of the Acholi people’s struggle.   For decades, the Acholi people have faced unimaginable suffering. From the brutal retaliatory killings by the NRA after Museveni took power in 1986 to the devastating war between the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) and the Ugandan government, our people have endured. The IDP camps meant to provide security, turned into traps ...

On 11 February 2024, the Uganda National Examinations Board (UNEB) released the 2024 Uganda Certificate of Education (UCE) results under the competency-based curriculum, sparking a wave of reactions across the country. The new system emphasizes skills, values, and real-life applications of knowledge, aiming to foster competencies like critical thinking, problem-solving, creativity, and communication. While this curriculum represents a shift from the old focus on rote memorization and theoretical knowledge, it left many reflecting on the past educational journey. On the eve of the results release, I spoke with an old friend whose younger brother, I assumed, had sat for the 2024 UCE exams. When I asked about his performance, I learned that the young man hadn't been in school for two years. My friend had been paying his fees, but two years ago, his brother had squandered his school fees on a reckless lifestyle, leading my friend to cut financial support. Now, the boy lived in the vill...

Back then, school in Uganda wasn’t quite the same as today. Some students were much older than us in primary school, and I’m talking much older. Some of the “boys” in the upper primary classes in my school had wives, kids, and their own houses but were still stuck in primary school. It wasn’t uncommon to hear some of them being called ‘won boy’ in the Acholi language, a polite way of referring to someone who has fathered a son. One of these characters was Labongo. He hailed from St. Mary’s Lacor, a small town about 6 kilometers West of Gulu town in Uganda. Labongo was way older than us but was in Primary Three class with us at Christ the King Demonstration Primary School. He was an absolute nightmare.   Labongo would show up to class in football boots—screws and all. You’d expect to see the kind of shoes on a soccer field, not in a classroom. I’m not sure if he knew any better or couldn’t afford proper shoes, but those boots were his weapon. They weren’t just for kicking balls;...