A Bizarre Christmas Celebration
In December 1990 I led a troupe from
RAI/TV-1, the national Italian TV channel, on an expedition to document the work
done by the Comboni Missionaries in Kalongo, North Uganda.
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LRA Rebels near Kalongo |
As it turned out, we were headed for trouble. On December
17, while driving through the bush to reach the landing strip where our rented
Cessna was waiting, we were ambushed by about 50 Lord Resistance Army (LRA)
rebels. Shots were fired into the vehicle, but the situation was defused
thanks to the driver’s and my knowledge of the local language and customs. Nobody
was killed, but the rebels kidnapped George, my cameraman – returnable in three
days, so they said – so he could film their exploits.
After shipping off the producer and the tapes, I decided
to stay behind to face hostile local authorities and to begin the long wait. Sure
enough, on December 20 George was found wandering along a dusty road, tired but
free. People took him to the Uganda Army base in Kitgum where I was also
summoned. Once there, we were summarily accused of having made up the whole
story, loaded on a helicopter and, as far as the rest of the world knew,
disappeared into thin air. By night time we were being held under heavy guard
at the army’s headquarters near Lira.
We were placed in what was left of a small house. The
walls were riddled with hundreds of bullet
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Well guarded |
Captain Peter ruled our days. He informed us that we were
being protected “while our chiefs sort it all out.” Then he made a fatal
mistake. He told us publicly that we were “guests.” In the local tradition, a
guest is sacred and I decided to take full advantage of it. Every day, I
“kindly” asked for anything that came to mind: reading material, toiletries,
other simple stuff. The important this was that I had regained some control
over my life and George’s. It worked!
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A cake and Christmas bliss |
On Christmas Eve things began to look up. Two CIDs
showed up with a gift. It was a cake from Sr. Alba, the principal of the Aboke
School for Girls. Stuck in the cake there was a note: “We finally know where
you are and we are praying for you.” The cake emboldened me as I gave my daily
list to Captain Peter. I felt that we “needed” a portable altar to celebrate
Christmas Mass, a radio to provide Christmas music and a bottle of wine to
accompany the cake. We had been on a diet of goat meat, plantain mush and tea.
His emissaries must have headed straight for one of our missions, because by
evening my wishes had been granted and we had all that we needed.
In the evening, Giorgio picked up some charcoal from the
soldiers’ fire and drew a life size nativity
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African Nativity |
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First Class to Rome with the crisis manager of the Italian Foreign Ministry |
By then, my Comboni brothers in Kampala had alerted the
Hon. Paul Ssemogwerere. As a Ugandan refugee in the USA in the days of Idi
Amin, he and I had become very close friends. By 1990 was second in command to
the president of Uganda. He knew
I was in the country and he was anxious to have me meet his children. But, when all of this took place, he was out of the country on a state visit to Libya with Uganda’s President. He managed to cut the visit two days short for my sake. Upon their return, a presidential order for our release was issued and on December 28, we returned to Kampala in an embassy car with flags flying, went through the Entebbe airport VIP lounge and flew home on a first class ticket to Rome.
I was in the country and he was anxious to have me meet his children. But, when all of this took place, he was out of the country on a state visit to Libya with Uganda’s President. He managed to cut the visit two days short for my sake. Upon their return, a presidential order for our release was issued and on December 28, we returned to Kampala in an embassy car with flags flying, went through the Entebbe airport VIP lounge and flew home on a first class ticket to Rome.