The only language to unite Acoli, revoked them or threaten them that is looming war, head will break loose.

UPDF operation Harmony, implementing Presidental Executive Orer No. 3. evicting Balaalo from Northern Uganda, and Eastern Uganda. the UPDF officers they are in operation in Paralo Owalo Sub County
Photo By Okumu Langol Livingstone
By Laker Gloria Grace

My child, i understand your deep pain! Your hidden pain! Your pain, so deeply hidden, hidden like the testicles of the cock! Deep inside!

A pain so deep! The pain and cry that you share with your mother, the “mother of Acoli(Min Acoli)!” over the death of her home!

Your pain and cry is so deeply embedded. So deep that you will fail to say it! but just die silently. Eating you up slowly like a cancer. Talk, don’t keep quiet, release it, don’t hide it!

For it is therapeutic to try than to hide it! And who knows, when you say it, perhaps someone might listen than hear, perhaps somebody might help you out of that pain! That pain!

That is the real pain of Min Acoli. Min Acoli who birthed you(Acoli), nursed you well with her breast milk and groomed all her children in to the mighty ELEPHANT “that she was!”

Pain! Pain engulfs her, oh mother! She cries. She cries like a little child! Crying for the loss of her lovely baby! Gone too soon!

Excruciating pain engulfs her- mum! Mama Acoli! She wails, as she looks at the corpse of her half dead child! Almost brain dead! Unable to reason and think! Unable to make valid, quick decisions in her home. Unable to talk or express what is killing him. She wails, seeing her helpless child die quietly, without talking his heart out! Pain reaps her heart open!

She wails! She wails like a woman! A woman who has had it all, and all of a sudden lost it all, in a sweeping uncontrollable wild fire!

Trust me! That woman cries! She cries day and night! She doesn’t know what to do, in her old and feeble body, she doesn’t know what went wrong  where?!

She shakes as asks herself, she trembles, slapping her laps, asking herself, “what did I do wrong to you my child-Acoli?” ” what did I not do right?” What!?

Tell me my child!
Tell me!
Tell me where I erred! If i can still correct it, I will! Tell me!
My child Acoli, tell me!

Is it the times I went to the funeral?
Is it the times I spent in the garden?
Is it the times I left home because your father almost killed me? Is it?

But Acoli, you know that I ran with you, I never left you, I cared and provided for you.
I sold pancakes, maize, cassava, anything morally sellable. I even made “lujutu” just to feed you and pay for your school fees, health and make ends meet.

I ensured that you got the best education because you were born bright like your mother, you needed just enlightenment to bring civilization home.

Acoli what invaded your mind?
Acoli what invaded your body?
Acoli what invaded your honesty?
Acoli what killed your spirit?
Acoli what invaded your land?
Acoli! Who caused your downfall?
Who caused your problems?
Where did all your problems start from?
Where is the origin?
When did it start?

Acoli talk!
Acoli my child, tell me, where did all your problems begin from?

I taught you honesty, I taught you respect, I taught you hard work, patience and unity.
I taught you honesty and integrity!
I said, ” don’t lie, lying is not good! Lying is bad!”

I taught you love! I loved you first! I said you were my best friend! And me yours! We shared secrets, we confided in one another! What has changed? Why?

I said unite with your siblings and guard your home, land, the land of your mother from any common enemy!

The land of your ancestors, I told you that i was just a custodian keeping it for you and your unborn children, my future grandchildren.And that you should carry it on!

Which stranger is intruding in to your rich culture! What will you teach your children? What will you pass on to my grandchildren, to pass on to their grandchildren and so on and so forth?!

I showed you the way of our ancestors and forefathers, how they lived, provided for their families and protected their land from enemies and invasion!

I told you that my husband, your late father never sold any land to feed us, pay for fees or to marry me and buy a motorcycle. For it is not the ways of Acoli people to sell land to survive!

Which intruders taught you this abominable act? Why did you not consult your ancestors for proper directions?

I said, take care of your sisters and love them. They are your only anchor in life!

I said, do all the good things your father and mother did, but drop all the wrong ones and follow your right judgement, intuition, ethics and morals.

I said, be on the alert, remain vigilant and hopeful and above all never give up the fight! Never give up struggle!

Acoli, I am your mother!
So why did you not remember my words?!

Why make your mother wail in such great pain!? Why make your ancestors twitch and turn in pain in their graves with regrets?


Acoli why?

Why end the good thing that your ancestors started, the good things that I passed on to you! Why allow me to suffer like this, like I never tried!?
Why not remember my suffering in the hot sun shine!?
In the heavy rainfall, moreover with you on my back?! Why? My child, why?!

Acoli, why not try at least, with the little beamer of hope left, with the little trinkle of light at the end of the tunnel. With the little might that you have left! With that little energy and faint heart beat! Try! Fight! There is hope!

Acoli try!
Acoli turn!
Acoli hiss!
Acoli! Say something! Do something at least!
Acoli! Don’t die silently!
Acoli try!

Acoli, the head that I birthed you with, use it to reason, not just to accept any trash. Dicern and decipher. Separate the good from the bad! Regardless of whatever it may be! Or whoever it may come from!

For, the head of your mother, will not die in vein!

Your mouth, which you have, use it well, to express yourself appropriately! Not just to eat and put food in to belly! Also know the source of your food, eat it once and finish it, never return to left-overs, for I taught you how to eat hot food, made by your own hands. You would have been an orphan, had I been careless!

Your hands, Acoli, your hands did not stay back in my stomach, I produced you with them, use them to work, toil and snare, like me and your father used to. For the reward of hard and honest work is greater!

Your nose, Acoli, should not be to smell good food and shit only! Use it to sniff danger as it comes and invades your territory!

Smell it! Repel it!

Your eyes, see my tears, see your land, see those intruders, those strangers, see those vultures, those scavengers and predators! Don’t ever give up! Don’t ever doze! For, they are waiting for you to close your eyes so that they can take advantage of you! They are not your friends!

Your ears, they are not large for nothing, listen to my cries, listen to my please, listen to the good message from your own people. Do not be swayed and decieved by small gifts which are short lived!

Do not heed to the populist agenda bent at enriching themselves alone. Pretending and calling themselves realist! Acoli, you are too clever to understand the truth and the facts of the matter!  Use your own mother given intuition! I trust you my true child! Acoli! All my my trust!

Your legs, Acoli, should place you in the right place at the right time. Watch your steps, know when to walk, to run and to leave!

Remember that certain toils take longer to reward! Be patient!

Do not disappoint your mother.
Look at the tears in her eyes, hot and rolling down her chicks. Does that amuse you?
Does that make you happy? Seeing your own mother cry? Acoli! Does it?!

Seeing her curse the fruit of her womb? Does that please you?! My child! Does that really make you happy?!

Acoli, rise up and make that change!
Rise up and tell the truth!
Rise up and  protect your home!
Rise up and never give up!

For you are the only flicker of hope!
The only beam of courage!
The only thing I have got, left!

For, this is the cry and pain of your own mother-Min Acoli, for the death of her home!

Laker Gloria Grace

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