UGANDA'S lxy soldiers created much excitement and curio-sity when they marched into Kampala as part of Yoweri Muservenf's victorious guerrilla army in 1986.
The kadogos (small ones) also created alarm, because many were so traumatised by the civil war that it was feared they would be uncontrollable.
Charles Byamungu, for example. was 16 when he and a group of friends encountered some drunk government soldiers in 1983.
"They searched us and then, when we Joked about a pregnant woman carrying bombs in her womb, they ripped the woman open with bayonets. Then they started shooting at us. 1> don't know how 1 escaped death. 1 fell under other bodies and crawled out after dark."
He was picked up by another armed group, who turned out to be soldiers with
Museveni's guerrilla army. They took him into the force, and looked after him.
Scores of other were scooped up by the guerrillas because there was no-one else to Jook after them. Thev formed about 15 per cent
Museveni's 20.000 strong movement.
Many of the kids fled from their homes after seeing their parents bayonetted or shot through the skull." says Major Peter Bakale. director of formal education in the National Resistance Army (NRA). 'We had to pick them up because there is no knowing what would have happened to them if they had fallen into the hands of government trobps."
The NRA was aware that the children's .future lay in Its hands. The UN Children’s Fund and the Save the Children Fund encouraged the new government to send them to school.
The boys were not easy to handle. Several had taken part in guerrilla warfare for years. As part of a victorious army, they had access to vehicles, women, cigarettes and bhang, which they were unwilling to give up.
But the army top brass were determined to keep them in the classroom. Initially, the boys were camped In military barracks in Kampala, but outside diversions proved irresistible and they frequently sealed oat to enjoy the lusuries of city life, such as the open-air discos which suddenly became fashionable.
"This atmosphere was not conducive to serious studies," Aays Bakale. with understatement. So the boys were sent to Mbarara Barracks. 260 kilometres away.
By now. some 700 young soldiers had been enrolled for school.
It took time for old habits to die. "Many were as headstrong as buffalo," recalls their teacher, Twinomujuni.
Many slipped away to bars and got into fights.
About 260 older ones, who had the chance to get a discharge or to be redeployed were squeezed out. in order to enable the others to concentrate on their studies.
Nevertheless, other gradually dropped out and by 1992 only 186 kadogos were attending secondary school.
The NRA's chief political commissar, Lt Col. Serwanga, Is happy with the army work: "We are proud of those who are going to sit for their university exams — 28 this year because we have been emphasis-
ing to them the need for a highly educated army which can take care of the country's security needs."
Other officers say they are Impressed with the character and outlook of those who have stayed In school. A number have acquired skills such as carpentry and brick-making, as a result of which, says Lawanga, they have won tenders to supply furniture, to nearby schools "and are also carrying out repairs on their dormitories. Many buildings were shattered in the war and the extent of the work is enormous."
"Some have started farming small plots."
These young men should represent the end of the kadogo chapter. But there has been a new influx of children from the north as a result of two rebellions there, particularly the fighting led by "priestess" Alice Lakwena,
whose followers went naked into battle smeared with oil which supposedly made them Immune to bullets and aimed with sticks and stones which they believed would explode like grenades.
Anatoli Kizito was 15 when he followed the NRA into battle against the Lakwenas. He recalls that the rebels would sing loudly while charging and though the NRA mowed them down "we used to cry believing that we would be bewitched."
He was lucky to emerge unscathed from the exp« rience. but his cousin Matovu, who shared similar experiences, acted aggressively and erratically when he returned to Kampala, repeatedly slapping children and young women until residents seized him and put him in a psychiatric hospital.
Almost 400 new children have been adopted by - the army: "But for the problems
created by Lakwena s rebellion In the north and insecurity in the north-east, the problem of kabogos would have been overcome by now," says Lwanga.
But there have been failures too. Nearly three-quarters of the army children never went beyond primary school, and many were unprepared for civilian life.
"They were not used to taking care of themselves," says Major-General Emilio Mondo, "and the many years of service left them with a knowledge gap about the rules of civilian life."
Haruna Mukasa was tricked out of his money when he tried to set up as a street trader soon after leaving the army, which he had Joined when he
Such men are part of a wider problem arising from the reduction In the size of the army: 33,000 men have been retrenched and 17,000 more
are to follow.
Many ex-servicemen and their dependents are badly off. and Maj. Gen Mondo, a former Secretary for Defence and now executive secretary of the Uganda Veterans Association, warns that "relative deprivation of veterans can lead to anti-social behaviour and even support for subversive activities.’'
Government is planning a reintegration programme for .soldiers who fall to fit easily into civilian life, increasing numbers of whom seem to be turning to crime.
He pins his hopes on the example of boy soldiers like Charles Byamungu who completed his secondary education, took a diploma in Journal ism and worked briefly for the army magazine before quitting the military. He Is now a civilian entrepreneur, with his own stationery business. — Gemini