Beeda stood on the school veranda and watched the last pupils disappear down the road. He thought of this as the road swallowed the pupils. The day’s climax, a question- and- answer session, came back to him and he heard his voice rise to fill the classroom: “What is twelve times five?” “Sixty,” the pupils sang cheerfully.

“What is twelve times seven?”

“Eighty four.”

“What is twelve times twelve?”

“One hundred and forty-four.”

He loved the interaction and the pupils’ rapt attention, which placed him at the centre of their world, made him feel alive. The world outside school was full of questions he could not answer and things he could not control. But when he stood in front of his class, he knew everything and there was nothing he could not do. Now his class was gone and he was back on the periphery of their lives, and the school, with its abandoned classrooms and silent playground, made him think of an empty shell. When he tried to imagine what would happen if the road did not regurgitate pupils tomorrow, a feeling of near panic crept over him.

Night was falling. On the left side of the school, the trees in the forest were slowly sinking into darkness. On the right side, the details on the hills were disappearing, the profiles hardening. This was the loneliest time of the day and Beeda hated it. He listened to the wind rustling the leaves of the mango and the bright red flowers of the flamboyant trees in the compound. It drew his attention to the sharp sound of the typewriter coming from the headmistress’s office. He could see his mother’s fingers flying over the keyboard, striking the letters with great precision. He liked to watch her type, her eyes fixed to text, her hands a seeming extension of the machine. It was the only surviving typewriter in an area of dozens of square kilometres, and its sound made him feel proud. 

Ma Beeda had started Nandere Primary School as a small operation under the mango tree in the middle of the compound twelve years ago. It had become a large school with nine classrooms with creamy, rough- cast walls and a red roof. She had invested her inheritance as well as her heart and soul in the school. She had bought the materials to build it and had chosen the colours to paint it, and she had planted the seashore paspalum which covered the entire compound. Measuring himself against her, Beeda often wondered what kind of mark he would make on the world.

“Beeda, where are you? Come and help me,” he heard her calling from her office. Her voice carried well; it was used to issuing commands and addressing school parades. In church, rising in song, it made the rafters quake.

“I am coming,” he murmured, but made no effort to move.

“Where are you? Do you think we are going to camp here all night?”

He did not reply. He looked at the hills and the darkening sky. He heard the trumpeter hornbill crying waaa-aaa-aaa. It was his favourite bird and he loved to watch it fly. Beeda had detected a note of anxiety in his mother’s voice. It made him both uncomfortable and reluctant to find out what had happened. She was so good at camouflaging anxiety and absorbing pressure that whenever it leaked out, he became fearful. And then he would hear the plaintive baby cries of the hornbill.

Ma Beeda looked up and shook her head when he entered. The head- shake was a bad sign; it always meant there was a crisis. It always meant that the big world with its perplexing questions had intruded on their predictable little world.

“We have a problem,” she said, lifting her fingers off the keyboard and looking him in the eye, as if the answers were hidden there. “I got another letter this morning.” “What does it say?” Beeda whispered in a voice almost foreign to his ears. He tried to regain his composure by staring at the oil lamp burning on his mother’s table. But its sharp smell nullified any calming effect of the yellow flame. Ma Beeda handed him a piece of paper the writer had torn out of an exercise book. The handwriting was compact and just legible in the mediocre light.

We have warned you many times to close your disgusting school and to stop poisoning God’s children with your filthy ideas. But you have refused. We know that you are a government agent and a tool of the devil. Above all, we know that you are proud of standing in the way of God’s work. Who will come to your aid when your hour comes? Remember, nobody spits at our warnings with impunity. The Most High, who gave us the Ten Commandments to guide us in all matters, sent us to stamp corruption out of this country. He sent us to cleanse the entire land with fire. God’s Victorious Brigades are watching you day and night. Your punishment will be both heavy and harsh. The War of the Ears has begun. And as the ancient saying goes, ears which don’t listen to their master get chopped off. You are next.

For God and our Revolution.

Colonel Kalo, chief of Operations.

Colonel Kalo: the mastermind, so most people believed, of the local branch of the rebels of God’s Victorious Brigades. A specimen of the Colonel’s thumbprint made in blood marked the end of the letter. It was the proof that the letter was authentic. “He should know that we are going to continue with our work,” said Ma Beeda. “We have nowhere else to go. Everything we own is in this soil. We are teachers, and we are going to teach whoever wants to learn.”

Her voice was too calm for Beeda’s liking. It meant that there was no room for compromise, a position he did not find wise. Beeda hoped that, as before, the threats would come to nothing. A war was going on in the forest and in the hills, where rebels and government forces occasionally clashed. In the period between  engagements, the rebels attacked civilians, furthering a campaign of terror, while the government forces, in turn, looked for rebel collaborators.

“Did you speak to the teachers?”

“Yes. The majority want to say. Two or three want to run away.”

“Did you hear from the regional commander?”

“He assured me that everything will be all right,” Ma Beeda said, as if the commander had lied to her.

“When is Uncle Modo coming?” Beeda’s voice was still hoarse with fear. Modo was a former soldier and Beeda wanted him to come and help them.

“I don’t know.”

“I thought he made a promise,” Beeda said, staring at the lamp as if his uncle was hidden in its belly.

“I’m sure he will come, but I cannot say when,” his mother said firmly. “Don’t worry. We will manage. There are always people looking out for us. Do you think they will allow the only school in the area to close?”

“No, they won’t,” Beeda said without conviction. There was a limit to what unarmed people could do. 

Ma Beeda went back to her typing, filling the room with the sound of the keys. When the letter was finished, she pulled it from the machine, read it over, signed and sealed it in an envelope, which she locked in a drawer.

She put a waterproof cover over the typewriter, pulling the edges to make it fit snugly. She cleared her table quickly, putting the files in a big metal cabinet, which she locked, and dropped the key in her bag. She turned down the wick and the lamp went out, the darkness merging the office with the compound outside. She picked up her bag and started humming Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya… She did that every evening. It was the signal that the day had officially ended. Beeda walked out of his mother’s office and stood on the carpet of grass in the compound. Behind him, he heard his mother closing and locking doors, her voice coming nearer. She insisted on closing the school herself.

She liked to hear the sound of the locks.

She stood on the veranda, holding the railing, and swept the compound with her eyes. She felt grateful for the trees, the grass and well-used day. She walked down the steps into the deepening darkness, which had glued the trees together and turned the forest into a solid mass.

Beeda and his mother took the small, stony road to their house, a half a kilometer from the school. Beeda walked with his eyes half on the ground, half on the sky. The area had no electricity because the rebels had destroyed the transformer, leaving everybody at the mercy of the moon and the stars. He was disappointed that there were so few stars this evening. Here and there, lanterns in the houses along the road punctured the darkness, but they only reinforced Beeda’s feeling that he was swimming in a lake of black ink. He disliked his mother’s humming at that time of the day, for he feared it might invite the rebels to silence her. But she was incorrigible.

“I miss the full moon,” he said, looking straight ahead.

Ma Beeda said nothing. Beeda racked his brain for something to say for the rest of the way, but came up with nothing. They did not meet anybody, as most people went home early and were barricaded inside their houses by nightfall.

“You are thinking about him,” Ma Beeda said suddenly, making Beeda stub his foot on a stone. She had the ability to guess what he was thinking and at times he disliked it intensely.

“Yes, I was thinking about my father,” he replied, stressing the last two words with a touch of annoyance. “Was he brave?”

“Yes. He knew what to do, and when to do it,” she replied in a low voice. “I miss him.” Beeda kept quiet and she started humming again. Beeda knew very little about his father, who had died when he was four. He thought about him at difficult moments, and prayed to him for protection.

And whenever he heard the go-away-bird saying go-away, go-away, go-away, he thought it was his father shooing troubles out of his path.

When they reached their houses, Ma Beeda stopped humming and Beeda stepped aside to let her pass. He stood in the paspalum and looked at the fruit trees, which seemed larger than during the day. Behind the house, the banana trees resembled a high wall. He looked forward to the first flash of the match, and the first flame.

Ma Beeda stopped in front of the main door and searched for the keys in her bag. The huge lock opened with a snap, like a pistol shot. Ma Beeda entered and her son heard her strike a match, and he smiled when the darkness round the flame parted. He followed her inside and locked the door.

It was a victory to arrive home. Ma Beeda always celebrated with a strong cup of tea. While she went to light the stove, Beeda filled a basin in the bathroom with water from a jerrycan, took a sponge, rubbed it with soap and scrubbed his body. He scooped water in his palms and rinsed himself. The feel of the water and the sound it made on the floor relaxed him more than anything he knew. He let the water glide off him until his skin was dry. He put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, lay down on his bed and tried not to think about anything. As his mind drifted, he saw the school, his pupils, the other teachers and his uncle. Finally, he dozed off.

“Beeda, Beeda. Tea is ready,” he heard his mother calling him.

In the kitchen, the smell of ginger and lemon grass made his mouth water. He drank a big cup of tea while his mother tended to the Irish potatoes cooking on the stove. She was tired and did not want to talk or hum Kumbaya and he was content to listen to the music of the stove and to think about making plants for next day’s lessons.

Beeda was not a trainedteacher; he was still in secondary school himself. He was just filling in for a teacher who had run away several weeks ago. But with his mother’s guidance, he did things like a trained teacher. And the longer he stayed at the school, the more he enjoyed his work. 

At home, there was one rule regarding cooking. If it was your turn, you did all the work. Today, it was Ma Beeda’s turn; tomorrow, it would be his. They shared all the housework equally, which Beeda liked because it made him self- sufficient: he could tend the garden, cook, wash and iron clothes.

Beeda finished his tea, thanked his mother and put the cups in the sink. A little later, Ma Beeda told him to lay the table, as the food was ready. She served his favourite dish: Irish potatoes with fish cooked in thick groundnut soup. Beeda bent his head over his steaming plate and the aroma went deep into his nose. After a day at school, with only the wistle of a bird intruding.

At the end of the metal, Beeda thanked his mother for cooking and left the kitchen. She did the dishes and then went to her room. She had school finances, teachers’ motivation, the security situation to think about before going to bed.

Beeda made the next day’s lesson plans and at nine o’ clock he said goodnight to his mother. Deep in the night, tucked under the sheets, he woke with a start. A sound like that of a rock thrown on to the roof had scared him awake. With a thumping heart, he lay still and waited for his mother to call him and tell him what had happened.  But there was only a chorus of crickets outside. Eventually, it dawned on him that an avocado had fallen from the tree behind the house. It is an avocado… an avocado… an avocado, he whispered until he felt calm enough to fall asleep again.

Two kilometres from Beeda’s house, three boys squatted in a banana plantation and watched a fourth boy cut up a big jackfruit. The leader was given a slab larger than the rest and he attacked it immediately. It was after nightfall, but this was their first meal of the day and it felt wonderful to be feasting on a jackfruit. They munched loudly and threw the seeds at their feet. Irritated, the leader raised his sticky hand and slapped one of the boys on the back.

“Lieutenant, you are a pig. The whole village can hear you chew!”

“I am sorry, Major,” the boy whispered. The others took heed and the noise died down. Major Azizima liked to be addressed by his rank. It made him feel older than his fourteen years. His boss, Colonel Kalo, was only three years older yet his face looked old leather. Major Azizima envied his menacing look, for he disliked his own choirboy face, which had endured despite the hardship in the bush.

Today, they had walked thirty kilometres from their base, hiding in the forest and in tall grass. They were on a mission to spread God’s glory and that of God’s Victorious Brigades. Major Azizima liked to be sent on missions. He dreamed of becoming a general, which would make him a member of the High Command. Fighters who volunteered stood a better chance of advancement, and nobody volunteered as much as he did.

Life at the base was an ordeal. Sex was forbidden, except for the four middle-aged generals who made up the High Command. Colonel Kalo made sure that anybody who broke this rule got one hundred strokes of the hippo-hide whip. He punished rape with amputation of the left hand, and desertion and theft with death. He planted spies everywhere, against whose word there was no appeal. In the mornings, he put the fighters through military drills; in the afternoons, he made them recite the Ten Commandments and chant the Generalissimo’s vitriol against the Ugandan government for hours on end. Major Azizima usually came away from such exertions with a headache. 

The only time the fighters relaxed was when Colonel Kalo was away, which was rare.

The only time everybody was happy was on the Generalissimo’s birthday and on Sudan’s National Day, when Colonel Kalo allowed them to steal two bulls and hijack a truckload of Coca-Cola for a great feast. All the rules and guidelines came from the Generalissimo, who spoke with God and whose name it was forbidden to pronounce.

Major Azizima’s mother had died six years ago, killed by other rebels of God’s Victorious Brigades. Every day Major Azizima saw the face of Blue Beast, the man who had killed her and forced him to cut off her ears. She took advantage of the interminable waits between attacks to slip into the cracks  in his mind and call his name.

“Azizima, who are you? Who are you?” It was an eerie voice, rising from the bowels of the earth, and it made him shudder. 

Now that the War of the Ears had started, he feared his mother’s voice even more. It would bother him until he lost his mind. He had started to think about the most dangerous thing a rebel could do: escaping. If caught by his comrades, he would be killed. If caught by government soldiers, he would be tortured or killed or both. The uncertainty made him think of his father, who had been arrested by government soldiers shortly before his mother was killed. Major Azizima believed the soldiers had wrongly accused his father of collaboration with the rebels and killed him. He wanted to avenge his parents, and to find out what had happened to his siblings, who had disappeared. For that reason, he wanted to survive.

After the meal, Major Azizama and his boys left the safety of the plantation and crept past the back of the house. They moved slowly, careful not to alert anybody to their presence. They passed under a window and heard of the people inside snoring. This would have been the perfect time to storm the house and carry off both food and money. But Colonel Kalo had not given them orders to do so. Instead, Major Azizama had given them a signal to proceed to Nandere Primary School. They walked on the outer edge of the road, where the grass muffled their footsteps.

When they reached the compound, they spread out. Major Azizama hid behind a tree and looked at the building. He imagined his father standing in front of a class, teaching boys who looked like him. He saw the children doing examinations. He saw his father marking them and announcing that all of them had passed. He felt a yearning to return to school, to study and get a certificate. But he hated having to take orders from teachers. He wanted to be like his father, but it would mean surrendering his power, something he knew he would not do freely. He wanted to cry out. But just then he lost the image of his father and the pupils, which made him angrier.

He walked around the school building. Trying to regain his composure, he drove the butt of his rifle through a window. The sound of the shattering glass soothed him, bringing closer the day Colonel Kalo would order him to burn down the building.

He signaled his boys to leave the compound and head for the nearby trading centre. They made their way silently along the empty road. The bushes were filled with the cries of nocturnal creatures.

They found a spot near shops with Coca-Cola and Nile Beer billboards. The place had the feel of a dead town, with no light anywhere. Shielded by shrubs, they lay in the wet grass and waited. Major Azizama tried to identify the animals shrieking in the forest. After a while, his mother started calling him, her voice rising and falling, fading and swelling. He saw her falling down, her bullet- riddled body covered with widening patches of blood. He saw her asking for mercy, beseeching heaven to intervene. He heard Blue Beast barking at him to take the knife or else he would share her fate. He felt intense pain, which spread from his chest to his stomach and he bit back a crying fit.

It was approaching midnight. Major Azizama heard footsteps. A man appeared from behind the shops, looked left and right, and walked towards the roads. The boys waited till he was very near and cocked their rifles. Hearing the sound, the man froze, his hands going up above his head.

“I am a local resident,” he said. “Please don’t shoot!” “Where are you going at this hour?” Major Azizima asked.

“My wife is very sick. I am getting her some medicine. Please let me go.” “Are you a government supporter?” Major Azizima asked in a chilly voice. 

“Please, let me go. My wife…”

“Are you a rebel sympathizer?”

“Please, have mercy. Every minute counts. Please…”

“Don’t think you can fool me, you lout,” Major Azizima said.

Here was the chance to do God’s will and enhance the reputation of His Victorious Brigades. There was nothing like it, and he could never get enough of it. “You are a disobedient and impertinent lout.

As the ancient proverbs says, Ears which don’t listen to their master-“get chopped off,” one of the boys said in a high voice.

“Well said, Lieutenant,” Major Azizima said, emerging from the long grass and approaching the man. Much to his pleasure, he saw the man’s legs wobble. When he was barely two metres away from him, he saw the man fall on his knees, his arms held high above his head, the words coming out of his mouth incoherent.

“Don’t waste my time, lout,” Major Azizima said, moving nearer.

“You should be happy that you have become a part of God’s grand plan.”

He stood over the man and took his knife out of his sheath. He pulled the man’s left ear, shouted, “To God’s glory!” and severed it. The man moaned and his bowels screamed as they emptied into his clothes. “My ear! My ear!”

“Shut up, you lout,” Major Azizima said as he put the ear in his trophy pouch, wiped the dagger on the man’s shirt and ordered him to go.

The one-eared man put his palms on the ground and crawled for a number of paces. He then struggled to his feet, swayed and ran off behind the shops.

To be on the safe side, Major Azizima and his boys moved to another spot, lay down in the shrubs and trained their rifles on the shops. Nobody came outside to confront them.  Major Azizima looked at the stars and decided it was time to find a place to sleep. He signaled his boys to enter the forest and head for the derelict house they occasionally used on missions.

Beeda woke up at six, greeted his mother, washed his face and went outside. Standing in the cold air, he thought that the only thing he hated about teaching was waking up early; he wished he could sleep till ten o’clock. He often spent part of the night awake, praying that their house remained invisible to the rebels.

He raked the leaves which had fallen from different trees overnight, collected them in heaps and threw them in a compost pit near the banana plantation. He found a last night’s avocado, which had cracked open, and threw it in the pit five metres away. He smiled at his perfect aim.

He emptied yesterday’s garbage into the pit. He washed out the garbage can and wiped the floor of the living room and the kitchen with a wet cloth. This was the part he liked least, for he had to get down on his knees, and he was glad when it was over. He fetched a knife from the kitchen and cut some dry banana leaves. He took the leaves to the latrine, put some at the mouth of the hole and struck a match, producing tongues of orange flame and plumes of odoriferous white smoke. He withdrew, the scent sharp in his nose, the smoke making his eyes water. Using a long stick, he pushed more leaves into the fire and smoke filled the entire place. He watched it pushing from under the iron sheets, spreading and chasing away flying insects. When the fire died down, he swept the latrine.

After a bath and a big mug of coffee, which he sipped very hot, he stood on the veranda, arms akimbo, waiting for his mother to appear. Farmers going to their plantations, with hoe in one hand and panga in the other, greeted him. He replied in a cheerful voice, eager to get started with the day’s business. The clear weather, the jabbering monkeys and the singing birds all served to lift his spirits higher. He was looking forward to the coming hours, during which he was going to take centre stage in his pupils’ lives.

Ma Beeda locked the house, pocketed the key and they left for school. She hummed Kumbaya, stopping only if she had to greet somebody. She had slept badly, waking up several times with the feeling that a messenger was at the door, waiting to break the news that her school was no more. It was a daily ordeal, which reached its peak at his time of the morning.

When they were one hundred metres from the compound, they saw the roof peeping through the trees. Ma Beeda stopped humming and made the sign of the cross. “Thank you Mother Mary, thank you Jesus,” she murmured, her face breaking into a big smile.

Beeda watched her in silence, pleased with the transformation that came over her, grateful that they had another day. Ma Beeda walked faster and Beeda had to increase his stride to keep up.

She inspected the premises and saw the broken window. She wondered if the rebels planned to dismantle the school piece by piece; it was only the day before that Colonel Kalo had promised to make an example out of her. She picked up the fragments, remembering what it had cost her to build the school, and tossed the shards in the latrine.

She hurried to the main door and told Beeda to wait by the side of the building. She inserted the key in the lock and held her breath for a number of seconds, for she lived in fear that one day the rebels would booby- trap the door.  It was one reason she insisted on opening up herself. If somebody was going to be killed at the entrance to her school, she wanted it to be its founder. This time the door opened safely.

“You can come in now,” she turned and beckoned Beeda. His face was clouded by irritation with this little act, which he thought unnecessary, if not downright degrading. “I can’t take any chances with you,” Ma Beeda replied every time he complained. He no longer bothered.

Beeda inspected the classrooms to make sure they were clean and provided with enough chalk. He examined the charts on the walls to make sure nobody had tampered with them. Finally, he checked the desks and the chairs to make sure none were broken. Satisfied, he went to his mother’s office to report and then returned to his class, where he arranged the books he needed for the first lesson neatly on the desk. Now all he needed were his pupils. He picked up a thin bamboo stick and went outside. He stood in the compound, waving the stick absent-mindedly, and waited for the first arrival.  Minutes later, a teacher emerged from the light mist on the side of the hills. She was walking fast, her body rigid, her bag held tight in one hand. Beeda knew something was wrong, for usually she took her time, her movements graceful, her gestures calculated. She did not stop to say hello; she just waved awkwardly and rushed into the headmistress’s office before he could ask her what was wrong. He followed her.

“Ma Beeda, Ma Beeda,” she called breathlessly.

“What is the matter, Miss Bengi?” Ma Beeda said lifting her eyes to her. “They cut off a man’s ear last night! We heard him crying as he fled.” “I am very sorry to hear that,” Ma Beeda said in a soothing voice.

“Do we know the unfortunate fellow?”

“Yes. He is a parent of one of our pupils. He had gone to collect medicine for his wife.” “It marks the start of the War of the Ears in our area,” Ma Beeda sighed, remembering Colonel Kalo’s letter.

“The government must do something.”

“They are going to hunt down those criminals and punish them.”

“They must or else we are lost.”

“The rebels have no chance of victory. They don’t have the people’s support. It is the reason why they are doing things like that. Breaking our windows won’t help them either,” Ma Beeda said.

“What windows are you talking about?”

“Beeda, show her,” Ma Beeda said in a voice which told him that she wanted to get rid of Miss Bengi.

Beeda took Miss Bengi to the broken window. She did not say anything, but he saw that she was frightened. He cautioned her not to tell anybody as it was school policy to avoid alarming the teachers and pupils. She nodded her head in agreement.

Beeda asked her to help him inspect the pupils, who had started arriving. The school compound was filling with noise, which pushed his worries further and further away as his favourite part of the day had begun. They checked to see if the pupils’ school uniforms were clean, and issued warnings to those who were untidy.

Other teachers arrived and organized their pupils to pick up leaves in the grass and to get ready for the parade. At eight o’clock, the bell rang and all the pupils stood in long, straight lines in front of the school. Ma Beeda stood on the veranda behind the railing with the teachers to her left and to her right.

She was wearing a dark blue dress with black shoes. She told the pupils to be punctual, to be calm, and to do their work well. When she dismissed them, they walked to their work well. When she dismissed them, they walked to their classes in silence.  Beeda taught Mathematics and Science. He derived the greatest pleasure from Mathematics, which he had begun by teaching the multiplication table until every pupil knew it by heart. He made the pupils sing it whenever they were sleepy or distracted. This morning though, he taught division. He took his class outside to collect mangoes and pebbles, which he used as teaching aids.

When the bell rang for the break, the pupils streamed out of the class and he was left alone. He went to the window and looked outside, hoping to see Uncle Modo entering the compound. A man walked towards the school, and waited expectantly, the noise in the compound seeming to rise higher and higher. But it was a stranger. He sucked his teeth in frustration. It struck him that his uncle might be in trouble. The bell for class rang.

When lunch break came Beeda saw Miss Bengi walk past his classroom. “How are you feeling now? You seemed quite shaken by last night’s events.” His throat felt parched and he swallowed hard. He hoped that, unlike his mother, she could not read his thoughts.

“I am feeling much better, thank you.”

Miss Bengi had the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. He often saw her in his sleep, leading him into the forest, and singing to him as they ran among the trees.

“I am glad to hear that.”

“I cannot live like this any more. I am thinking about going to the city.”

Beeda did not want her to go. It was such a joy to hear her voice when she led the school choir. He now believed Miss Bengi was one of the two teachers Ma Beeda had talked about. “Are you sure you want to leave? Who will teach the children music?

Nobody does it like you.”

“I don’t know,” said softly, as if her resolver had crumbled. 

“Stay with us, please. The war will not last forever.”

“Whose propaganda are you listening to?”

Beeda thought the word ‘propaganda’ was very beautiful, fitting to come out of the mouth of the woman whose voice he adored. He  vowed to think of her as Miss Propaganda.

“Your pupils have such respect for you. You can’t just leave them,” he said, looking for more convincing reasons to win her over.

“I did not start this war. I won’t wait my turn to have my ears cut.”

At that moment Beeda’s mother sent a messenger to call him to her office. Beeda suspected she had seen them talking and decided to spoil the moment. ‘I am a man. I am no longer a kid,’ he said to himself in protest.

“What were you saying?” Miss Bengi asked, looking at him closely. 

“I have to go,” he said reluctantly. “But don’t forget that we need you.”

“Did your mother send you to tell me that?”

“Of course not. I didn’t know you had told her.”

Beeda went to his mother’s office and found her listening to the man she called her ‘eyes and ears’. Everybody else called him Nightcrawler. He was giving Ma Beeda details of what several people had heard and seen the night before, and she was noting everything down in a black book with waterproof covers. Beeda was not allowed to look in the book. He did not even know where she kept it. On one occasion, however, he had taken a look when his mother was called outside to attend to a playground emergency. It was a record of killings and other atrocities suffered by the people at the hands of both the rebels and government agents. Both the rebels and the government hunted collaborators and spies and treated them roughly, but the former routinely attacked civilians. Beeda pretended he had never looked in the book.

At last, Ma Beeda stopped writing, closed the book and handed Nightcrawler last evening’s letter, which Beeda saw was addressed to the Regional Army Commander.

Nightcrawler put the letter in his inner jacket pocket.

“Have you already had lunch?” Ma Beeda asked when she saw that Beeda was becoming restless.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I am not hungry.”

“It is still a long way to supper. I would eat something if I were you,” she said and turned her attention back to Nightcrawler.

Feeling redundant, Beeda excused himself and left his mother’s office. He went back to the window, but found Miss Bengi gone.

A short while later, he saw Nightcrawler leaving the premises and he wondered what else his mother had confided in him. He

afraid for Nightcrawler’s sake, as he could not imagine what the rebels would do to him if they intercepted that letter. It occurred to him that there might be rebel spies at the school. He spent the day thinking about it and trying to determine whether the spies were teachers or pupils.

On the way home, he wanted to talk about his feelings with his mother, but he could not find the right words. He did not want Ma Beeda to think he was a coward.

“What is bothering you? You have been moody all day,” she said.

Feeling ashamed of his thoughts, he tried to brush her off.

“Nothing really.”

“I hope it is not about Miss Bengi.”

“Not at all. She is too old for me,” he said, forcing a laugh.

“I am all you have. Feel free to tell me your problems.”

“Don’t forget Uncle Modo.”

“At the moment he is not here,” she said and, when he kept quiet, she went back to her humming.

They arrived home safely and the door did not explode when Ma Beeda opened it. It was his turn to cook and he immersed himself in his duties. After a while, his mind began to wander and to turn again towards the question of spies in the school. How to identify them? How to trap them? It came as no surprise when the food burned. The pungent odour filled the kitchen and spread throughout the house. Afraid to let in mosquitoes, he did not open the windows, which made the situation worse.

Ma Beeda rushed into the kitchen fanning her nose with a book and found him dumping the food into the garbage can. Biting back the urge to scold him, she asked if she could help. He turned her down. As she turned to go back, he started peeling fresh green bananas. He put them in a pan, added water and put the pan on the stove. He felt ashamed.

When the food was ready, he called his mother. The smell of burning food had given her stomachache, but she forced herself to eat a little. 

There was one radio in the house, which Ma Beeda kept in her room. She lent it to him for the night, hoping the music would soothe him and ease him into sleep. Beeda spent the next two hours listening to a mixture of current news and music on both local and foreign stations. He luxuriated in this ephemeral connection with other worlds and the resulting suspension of fear. He would have liked to listen all night, but he had to wake up early. At his usual bedtime, he switched off the radio and fell asleep.

Deep in the night, he was awakened by gunfire, though it was difficult to tell where it was coming from. He lay still, the silent radio near his heart, and waited. But nothing happened. He prayed to his father to keep him safe and, after a while, he switched on the radio and pushed the earphones deep in his ears.

Understanding and appreciating the story

1. Describe Beeda’s attitude towards the pupils.

• What feeling do you get as the narrator describes the coming of darkness? Why does Beeda hate this time?
• Explain Beeda’s attitude towards his father. 4. What is the letter from Colonel Kalo about?
• Make notes on the way rebels and government soldiers treat civilians.
• What evidence is there to show that Beeda and his mother live in fear?
• Azizima is unable to pursue his own dream. Why is this so?
• Describe Ma Beeda’s character. Why does Ma Beeda keep humming ‘Kumbaya…’
• What reasons does Beeda give to Miss Bengi to persuade her to stay at the school? Is this the whole truth?
• Imagine you are working with a youth group meant to preach peace and reconciliation among warring tribes and antagonized youth groups and you have been asked to give a speech on peaceful conflict resolution. Write the speech.

Discussion questions

1. How can government overcome tribal hatred and conflicts amongst their people?
   1. Drawing examples from this story, explain some of the reasons why young people join militia groups. What do you think the government can do to help the youth stay away from such associations?
   1. Discuss the use of dialogue in this story. What does it achieve?  

•  Describe Beeda’s attitude towards the pupils.

Beeda has a positive and enthusiastic attitude towards his pupils. He loves the interaction with them during question-and-answer sessions in the classroom. When he stands in front of his class, he feels alive and confident. Teaching and being at the center of his students’ attention make him feel knowledgeable and capable, a stark contrast to the uncertainty he faces outside the school environment.

• What feeling do you get as the narrator describes the coming of darkness?

Why does Beeda hate this time?

 As the narrator describes the coming of darkness, a sense of loneliness and anxiety is conveyed. Beeda hates this time, the loneliest part of the day, because it brings a feeling of vulnerability and fear. Darkness, especially in the context of the war-ravaged area, implies potential danger and unknown threats lurking in the shadows. It also separates him from the world of his students, placing him back on the periphery of their lives.

• Explain Beeda’s attitude towards his father.

 Beeda’s attitude towards his father is one of admiration and longing. His father passed away when he was young, but he idealizes him and sees him as brave and strong. Beeda believes that his father knew what to do and when to do it, implying that he was wise and decisive. He often thinks of his father during difficult moments and prays to him for protection. His father’s memory serves as a source of strength and guidance for him.

• What is the letter from Colonel Kalo about?

The letter from Colonel Kalo is a threatening message to Ma Beeda, the headmistress of Nandere Primary School. In the letter, Colonel Kalo, who is believed to be the mastermind of a local branch of rebels known as God’s Victorious Brigades, accuses Ma Beeda of running a school with “disgusting” and “filthy” ideas. He considers her a government agent and a tool of the devil, and warns her to close the school and stop what he perceives as corrupting God’s work. The letter implies serious consequences, with Colonel Kalo stating that God’s Victorious Brigades are watching her day and night, and her punishment will be heavy and harsh.

• Make notes on the way rebels and government soldiers treat civilians.

The story doesn’t provide extensive details on how government soldiers treat civilians, but it mentions that they occasionally look for rebel collaborators and that there’s a campaign of terror during the periods between rebel-government clashes.

On the other hand, the rebels of God’s Victorious Brigades are portrayed as ruthless and brutal in their treatment of civilians. They threaten and intimidate Ma Beeda, warning her to close the school and stop her work. They are responsible for the death of Major Azizima’s mother, and he vividly remembers the horrors he witnessed when she was killed by them. The rebels seem to enforce strict rules and regulations, punishing any breach with severe consequences, such as whipping, amputation, or death.

• What evidence is there to show that Beeda and his mother live in fear?

The evidence that Beeda and his mother live in fear can be seen in their response to the threatening letter from Colonel Kalo. Ma Beeda’s voice carries a note of anxiety when she tells Beeda about the letter, and she is concerned about the potential repercussions. Beeda is also affected by fear, feeling near panic when he imagines what might happen if the road does not regurgitate pupils the next day. Additionally, Beeda is worried about his uncle, Modo, coming to help them, indicating a sense of insecurity and reliance on external support. The constant threat of violence from the rebels hangs over their lives, making them feel vulnerable and unsafe.

• Azizima is unable to pursue his own dream. Why is this so?

Azizima is unable to pursue his own dream because he is trapped in the cycle of violence and conflict as a member of the rebel group, God’s Victorious Brigades. His dream of becoming a general and achieving a position of power within the organization conflicts with the reality of their violent and oppressive activities. As a child soldier, he is bound by strict rules and loyalty to the leader, Colonel Kalo, and the Generalissimo, leaving little room for personal aspirations. His mind is haunted by traumatic memories of his mother’s death, and he is driven by a desire for revenge and to find out the fate of his missing siblings. The constant danger and pressure within the rebel group prevent him from pursuing his own dream and lead him to prioritize survival and vengeance over personal goals.

• Describe Ma Beeda’s character. Why does Ma Beeda keep humming ‘Kumbaya’?

Ma Beeda is portrayed as a strong and resilient woman. She is the headmistress of Nandere Primary School and has invested her heart and soul into building and running the school. She is passionate about education and is determined to continue teaching despite the threats from the rebels. Her calm and composed demeanor in the face of danger shows her resolve and determination to stand up against intimidation.

Ma Beeda keeps humming ‘Kumbaya, my Lord’ as a way to signal the end of the day. It is her way of celebrating the victory(??????)

1. Beeda’s attitude towards the pupils: From the story, it is evident that Beeda cares about the pupils and takes his role as a teacher seriously. He is diligent in making sure the classrooms are clean and equipped with the necessary materials. He also takes pride in teaching mathematics and shows concern for Miss Bengi, who also teaches music to the students.
2. Beeda’s feelings towards darkness: Beeda hates the coming of darkness because it signals the danger brought by the rebels. He fears for his safety and the safety of his loved ones during this time, as the rebels are known for committing atrocities and violence.
3. Beeda’s attitude towards his father: The story doesn’t provide specific details about Beeda’s attitude towards his father, so it’s unclear from the given text.
4. The letter from Colonel Kalo: The letter from Colonel Kalo likely contains information about the rebels’ activities in the area and the potential threats they pose to the school and its staff.
5. Treatment of civilians by rebels and government soldiers: The story mentions that both rebels and government agents hunt collaborators and spies and treat them roughly. The rebels, however, routinely attack civilians, as evidenced by the incident where they cut off a man’s ear.
6. Fear in Beeda and Ma Beeda’s lives: Beeda and his mother live in fear due to the ongoing conflict in the region. They fear for their safety and the safety of the school and its students, as evidenced by Ma Beeda’s precautions like checking for booby traps on the school’s entrance.
7. Azizima’s inability to pursue his dream: The story doesn’t provide details about Azizima’s dream or aspirations, so it’s unclear from the given text.
8. Ma Beeda’s character and humming ‘Kumbaya…’: Ma Beeda appears to be a strong and resilient woman, as she is the headmistress of the school and takes measures to protect her students and the school from potential danger. She hums ‘Kumbaya’ as a way to find solace and cope with the stress and fear caused by the conflict.
9. Beeda’s persuasion to Miss Bengi: Beeda tries to persuade Miss Bengi to stay at the school by emphasizing her importance as a music teacher and her positive impact on the students. However, he also hides the true reason for his insistence, which is his affection for her.
10. Speech on peaceful conflict resolution: (Note: a brief example of a speech on peaceful conflict resolution.)

“Ladies and gentlemen, fellow youth, and distinguished guests,

Today, we gather here with a common purpose – to promote peace and reconciliation among our tribes and communities. We stand at a crucial juncture where we can choose to foster unity or perpetuate division. Our world has seen enough violence and hatred, and it is time for us, the youth, to take a stand for peace.

As young leaders, we must recognize that conflicts and animosities may arise due to various reasons, including historical grievances, ethnic differences, and misunderstandings. However, let us remember that no conflict is insurmountable when approached with an open heart and a willingness to engage in constructive dialogue.

Our first step towards peaceful conflict resolution is to listen to each other. We must be willing to hear the perspectives of others, even if they differ from our own. By acknowledging and respecting diverse viewpoints, we create an atmosphere conducive to finding common ground.

Secondly, let us prioritize education and awareness. Education empowers us to challenge stereotypes and prejudices that fuel hatred. We must seek to understand our shared history and the consequences of violence. Through knowledge, we can break the cycle of conflict and forge a path towards lasting peace.

Moreover, let us engage in community-building initiatives. By working together on projects that benefit all members of our society, we can bridge gaps and build trust. Collaborative efforts in education, healthcare, and economic development can foster a sense of unity and solidarity.

Furthermore, forgiveness plays a crucial role in our pursuit of peace. While we must hold individuals accountable for their actions, forgiveness allows us to heal and move forward. It is not an act of weakness but a powerful demonstration of resilience and compassion.

Lastly, let us advocate for inclusive leadership. As young leaders, we must ensure that the voices of marginalized groups are heard and respected. By promoting inclusivity, we can strengthen our societies and make strides towards a more just and equitable future.

In conclusion, the journey towards peaceful conflict resolution is not easy, but as the youth, we hold the key to a brighter and harmonious future. Let us unite, reject violence, and stand together as beacons of peace in our communities. Together, we can create a world where all can thrive, free from the shadows of hatred and division.

Thank you.”

1. Overcoming tribal hatred and conflicts amongst the people requires a multifaceted approach from the government. Some strategies that could be employed include:
2. Promoting national unity and identity: The government should actively promote a sense of national pride and identity that transcends tribal divisions. This can be done through education, media, and public campaigns that emphasize the country’s diversity and common heritage.
3. Implementing inclusive policies: The government should ensure that policies and programs are designed to benefit all citizens regardless of their tribal affiliations. This includes equitable distribution of resources, opportunities, and public services.
4. Promoting inter-tribal dialogue: The government can facilitate platforms for open and constructive dialogue between different tribal groups. This can help foster understanding, dispel stereotypes, and address grievances.
5. Strengthening the justice system: The government should ensure that the justice system is impartial and fair, providing a sense of justice and accountability for all citizens. Addressing past grievances and human rights abuses is essential for reconciliation.
6. Investing in education: Education plays a crucial role in countering tribal prejudices. The government should promote inclusive and diverse curricula that celebrate different cultures and histories, fostering a spirit of tolerance and respect among the younger generations.
7. Reasons why young people join militia groups, as illustrated in the story:
8. Economic marginalization: Some young people may join militia groups due to poverty and lack of opportunities. These groups may offer financial incentives or promise a way out of poverty.
9. Sense of belonging and purpose: Militia groups can provide a sense of belonging and purpose to marginalized or disillusioned youth who feel disconnected from mainstream society.
10. Grievances and injustices: Young people who have experienced or witnessed injustices, such as oppression or violence

1. Overcoming tribal hatred and conflicts among the people requires a multifaceted approach by the government. Some potential strategies include:
2. Promoting national unity and identity: The government should emphasize the common values and heritage that bind all citizens together as one nation. This can be achieved through educational curricula, public campaigns, and cultural events that celebrate national unity.
3. Equal distribution of resources: Often, conflicts arise due to perceived inequality in resource allocation among different ethnic or tribal groups. The government should ensure equitable distribution of resources, such as land, jobs, and public services, to avoid fostering grievances.
4. Conflict resolution and reconciliation: Establishing effective conflict resolution mechanisms and promoting dialogue between conflicting groups is essential. This includes setting up impartial mediation efforts and community dialogue forums to address underlying grievances and foster understanding.
5. Addressing historical grievances: The government should acknowledge historical injustices and strive to redress them through truth and reconciliation processes. This can help heal wounds and build trust among different communities.
6. Encouraging inter-ethnic and inter-tribal interactions: The government can promote cultural exchange programs, sports events, and other activities that encourage people from different backgrounds to interact and build mutual understanding.
7. Reasons why young people join militia groups, as exemplified in the story, include:
8. Sense of belonging and purpose: Many young people may feel alienated and disenfranchised from mainstream society, leading them to seek a sense of belonging and purpose in militia groups that claim to fight for a cause.
9. Economic factors: Poverty and lack of opportunities can push young people towards militia groups, offering them the promise of financial rewards or job opportunities that they might not find elsewhere.
10. Ideological and political beliefs: Some youth may be drawn to militia groups due to ideological or political convictions, especially if they perceive the government as oppressive or corrupt.
11. Influence of peers and family: Peer pressure and familial ties can play a significant role in influencing young people’s decisions to join militia groups, especially in conflict-affected regions where such associations may be deeply embedded in local communities.

To help youth stay away from militia groups, the government can implement the following measures:

• Creating economic opportunities: The government should invest in education, vocational training, and job creation programs to provide viable alternatives for the youth and reduce the appeal of joining militia groups for economic reasons.
• Providing quality education and promoting critical thinking: Education can be a powerful tool to challenge extremist ideologies and empower young people to think critically and make informed decisions.
• Youth engagement and empowerment: Involving young people in decision-making processes, community development, and peacebuilding initiatives can give them a sense of agency and responsibility in shaping their future.
• Disarmament, demobilization, and reintegration (DDR) programs: For those already involved in militia groups, DDR programs can help facilitate their transition back to civilian life and provide support for reintegration into society.
• The use of dialogue in the story serves several purposes:
• Illustrating the power dynamics: The dialogue between Major Azizima and the man showcases the power and authority the former wields over the latter, creating a sense of fear and vulnerability.
• Highlighting themes of violence and cruelty: The conversation between Major Azizima and the man emphasizes the brutality of the conflict and the dehumanization of the victims.
• Demonstrating ideological differences: Major Azizima’s questioning of the man about his allegiance and sympathies reveals the ideological divide between the government and the rebels.
• Character development: The dialogue helps develop the characters’ personalities and motivations, providing insights into their beliefs and actions.
• Creating tension and suspense: The dialogue builds tension as the man pleads for mercy while Major Azizima remains cold and determined, adding drama to the scene.

Overall, dialogue is a powerful narrative tool that helps advance the story, reveal character traits, and convey thematic elements. In this case, it contributes to the portrayal of the conflict’s complexity and its impact on individuals.

The War of the Ears by Moses Isegawa

• Setting

The story is set in a rural Uganda during a period of civil strife. A rebel group, God‟s Victorious Brigades, is fighting to stamp corruption out of the country in the light of their interpretation of the Ten Commandments. The ultimate sufferers are civilians. The story‟s main setting is Nandere Primary School with episodes in Ma Beeda‟s home and the forest. Most of the activities take place in the night. Darkness symbolizes the evil that has befallen the country at large and is about to befall Ma Beeda‟s village in particular.

• Plot

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The story opens at the close of day at Nandere Primary School. Beeda is confronted with a problem: the world outside school is full of questions he couldn‟t answer and things he couldn‟t control. This drives him into a panic that it is possible that these events beyond his control could stop the children

from coming back to school. Indeed, his fears are fanned by the letter that arrives in the school that day. The rebel group, God‟s Victorious Brigades, says it is the last letter they send to warn Ma Beeda of dire consequences should she fail to close the school. She however swears to defy them and believes that they have government protection. Beeda, however, is clearly terrified and feels helpless because he does not believe the government‟s promise would come to much. We learn that his father had died when he was four, and now as a secondary school student, he doubles up as a teacher at his Mother‟s school.

To prove their point, the rebel group has dispatched four „child‟ soldiers to Nandere Primary School, the only surviving school in the region. They are led by Major Azizima who is 14. The other 3 boys are his juniors. His immediate superior, Colonel Kalo, is 17. Upon reaching the school, Azizima awaits instructions from Kalo to burn it down. We learn that the supreme leader of the rebels is Generalissimo who is revered because he spoke with God. All the rules and guidelines come from him. This involves indoctrinating the child soldiers with his interpretation of the Ten Commandments and heavy doses of barbaric punishment for offences against his rules. Similarly, the soldiers mete out barbaric punishment like chopping off the ears of those who do not support the course of the rebels.

The arrival of these rebels in Beeda‟s village brings to his door step those things he‟d feared he has no control over. At school first they are confronted with the pane Azizima had broken the previous night, Next, Miss Bengi informs them that a man‟s ear had been cut off the previous night and because of this insecurity, she intends to leave the village for the city. The gunfire later that night is the last piece of evidence that the war of the ears had finally come to their village.

• Conflict (a) External

1. The first conflict we meet is between Ma Beeda and the rebels. They have been sending her letters telling her that she is a government agent and that she should close her school. The final letter is

signed by Colonel Kalo. It tells her that her punishment for defying them will be both heavy and harsh. She continues to defy them in the hope that the government‟s security apparatus will protect her and her investment.

1. Secondly, we learn that the teachers too are in direct conflict with the rebels. We are told that Beeda‟s is filling in for a teacher who had fled weeks ago. Further, Ma Beeda‟s says that she spoke to the teachers and 2 or 3 want to run away (pp 46). Then there is Miss Bengi who announces her desire to leave for the city after a man‟s ear was cut off (pp 59)

1. The major conflict is between the government and the rebels (pp 46) A war was going on in the forest and hills where government forces occasionally clashed with the rebels. This is also confirmed in the letter sent to Ma Beeda in which she is called a government agent.

Their professed goal is to stamp corruption of out of the country.

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iv) The conflict between the rebels and the government has also brought on conflict between the civilians and government on one hand and civilians and rebels on the other.

Major Azizima‟s father died in the hands of the government security apparatus. They had alleged that he was collaborating with the rebels (pp

• We are also told that in between engagements with rebels, government forces looked for rebel collaborators (pp 46).

Then there is the conflict between rebels and civilians in general. We are told that in the period between engagements with government forces the rebels attacked civilians (pp46) Major Azizima tells us that his mother was killed by the rebels. What is more, he‟d been asked to cut off her ears (pp

• Major Azizima also cuts off the ear of a villager who was looking for medicine for his sick wife. (pp53). Further, after this act, they trained their rifles on the shops in case people confronted them. No one did. In the letter to Ma Beeda the rebels state that the war of ears had begun. This is in reference to cutting off the ears of civilians who defied them (pp

1. Finally the village is awakened deep in the night by gunfire. (pp61)

• The other conflict developed in the story is internal

1. Beeda

In front of the class he knew everything and there was nothing he could not do. However, the world outside was full of questions he could not answer and things he could not control (pp43) (it is a flash-forward in the problems the villagers face from the government and rebels)

1. Azizima

He thinks of escaping from the rebel base but if caught by the government soldiers he would be tortured or killed or both. If caught by the comrades he would be killed. Either way he would die but he wanted to live to avenge his parents. Besides he wanted to find out what had happened to his siblings who had disappeared. Further, at school (Nandere) he felt a yearning to return to school, to study and get a certificate but he hated having to take orders from teachers. Moreover it would mean surrendering his power something he knew he would not do freely.

• Characters and Characterisation.

1. Ma Beeda

A widow, entrepreneur and a single parent, she has a son, Beeda

1. Hardworking – started her school under a mango tree but is now a full-fledged learning centre.

1. Determined/Resolute

Hers is the last operational school. All the other schools have shut down at the behest of the rebels. Despite the numerous letters by the rebels that she shuts down her school, she defies them.

1. Optimistic

Despite the war going on around her, she is hopeful that it will not touch her school. She says that the rebels have no chance of victory and that

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they don‟t have the people‟s support. She also tells us that the government would hunt down all the criminals and punish them (pp57)

• Secretive

She had a journal in which she entered the

Nightcrawler‟s reports.

Beeda was not allowed to look in the book. (pp 59)

• Curiuos

Has set the Nightcrawler to find out details of what several people had heard and seen the night before.

• Perceptive

(pp 47) She had the ability to guess what her son was thinking and at times he disliked it intensely.

• Beeda

1. Hardworking – stays at school teaching until late

-plans his lessons in good time

1. Concerned – (pp 46) asks his mom whether she spoke to the teachers i.e. ask them to stay. -Wants to know the response of the regional commander in relation to their insecurity.

• Azizima

-ambitious/violent/reflective/determined

• Themes

1. Human rights abuse/crimes against humanity.

1. Children are denied the right to education. Ma Beeda tells us that hers is the only school opening in the area, and even this is threatened to be short lived by the rebels who have served her with a final notice to close the school.
   1. People are killed both by the rebels and the government. Azizima tells us that government forces killed his father for allegedly collaborating with the rebels. The rebels too killed his mother for an unspecified reason.

1. People suffer mutilation in the hands of the rebels. The letter sent to Ma Beeda warns her that ears that don‟t listen to their master get chopped off and hers would be next. Azizima tells us that Blue Beast forced him to chop off his mother‟s ears. Azizima chops of the ear of a villager and keeps it as a trophy and proof to his superiors that he is loyal. Miss Bengi threatens to leave for the city saying she does not want her ear chopped off. iv) Displacement

People are fleeing the village on account of insecurity arising from the war of the ears. Ma Beeda tells us that two or 3 teachers have expressed their intention to leave for the city. Beeda is filling in for a teacher who had fled

several weeks before. Miss Bengi is thinking of going to the city to avoid the atrocities of the rebels.

• Enlisting of Child Soldiers.

Major Azizima is only14 years old and is a soldier trained and armed by the rebels. The three soldiers he is sent to Nandere Primary school with

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are younger than he is. His superior, colonel Kalo is only 17 years. These children are first abducted and then forced into fighting.

• Barbaric treatment of the soldiers at the base. Sex was forbidden at the base except for the four people in high command. Anyone who broke this rule got one hundred strokes of the hippo-hide whip. Rape was punished with amputation of the left hand. Dissention and theft were punished with death. There is no appeal against the words of the spies. They were made

to chant Generalissimos hatred for the Uganda government for hours on end.

b) Family relations

1. MaBeeda trains her son on the work ethic; he not only knows his house hold chores but loves his teaching job. ii) Beeda is very respectful of his mother and she too of him.

• When his mother summons him, he drops what he is doing and goes to her for example when he was talking to Miss Bengi and his mother summons him he goes to her despite the fact he would have liked to continue talking to her.

• She too is respectful of him when he burns their supper; she resists the urge to raise her voice at him. Further, although she‟d lost her appetite, she respectfully eats some of the food he serves her.

• Violence

• War going on between government and rebels

• Government torturing and killing rebel collaborators – death of Azizima‟s father

• Rebels mutilating or killing government sympathisers – death of another chopping of the ears of a man. -breaking of a window pane at the school and its imminent burning down.

• Killing and mutilation of soldiers who break rules at the camp.

• Fear.

Pp46 Beeda is afraid that teachers will desert the school; further, he is afraid that the promise of their safety by the regional commander may not hold water. He is afraid that something might have happened to uncle Modo

Pp 54 Most people went home early and were barricaded inside their house by nightfall.

Pp 51 Azizimo is afraid that if he runs away from the base he‟ll be executed by the rebels upon capture. Further if he does escape he‟ll be tortured or killed by government agents upon capture.

Pp 53 After Azizimo had chopped off the ear of a villager, the train their rifles on the shops- Nobody came out to confront them for fear of being killed or mutilated by the rebels.

Pp 54-6 MaBeeda wakes up feeling that a messenger was at the door, waiting to break the news that her school was no more. It was a daily ordeal which reached its peak every morning.