ChildFocus: Prossy

Nine years old. Fourth grade, maybe third. Learning her division facts and playing jump rope at recess. Imagine a child at this young age being brutally yanked from her family by hardened rebel militants and swallowed up in a senseless civil war. Imagine that child was yours.

Valentina didn’t have to imagine this. She lived it.

Her nine-year-old daughter, Prossy was abducted in May 2000 when their home village of Lapeda was attacked by the Lord’s Resistance Army, a rebel militia responsible for more than two decades of war and torture among northern Ugandans. Her four sons were also abducted during the attack, but managed to escape and return home within a few days.

Prossy wasn’t so lucky. Her escape didn’t come until more than three years later. More than three years that her mother’s blank eyes cried unending tears of desperation for her precious daughter, wondering if she was dead or alive. If she’d ever see her again.

“I was so thin,” Valentina recalls of what seemed like an eternity as she prayed for Prossy’s return. “I didn’t eat well and I was sick often.”

But Valentina quickly smiles as she remembers Prossy’s personality before her abduction. “She was popular among everyone in the village,” she says. “She was very friendly to everyone - young or old, girl or boy.”

“When Prossy came home, I almost hurt her by hugging her,” describes Valentina, now living at the Unyama Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camp. “I was so happy she was alive and unharmed.”

When Prossy did escape in July of 2003, her family celebrated. But she was different, unrecognizable in many ways. Although she no longer carried heavy loads for Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) commanders, she was still bearing tremendous burdens, emotionally and spiritually.

Her family tried reaching out to Prossy, encouraging her to talk about her experiences in the bush, but she was silent on the subject. “Prossy was not so willing to talk and was very emotional,” her older brother, Francis says. “She didn’t like noise and often screamed with nightmares.”

Her mother adds: “When she was told to do things, she would just sit and look at you. She needed to be told to work in the garden.”

Most of the time, however, Prossy was not at home. She stayed away for most of the day and late into the night, seeking refuge from haunting memories of the LRA and her days in the bush. She found a boyfriend and hung out with friends instead of joining the family in daily work, something she’d always done very willingly prior to her abduction.

As she ran from her pain, Prossy found herself pregnant. The boyfriend turned away and she was on her own. In December of 2006, Prossy gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Pretty. With her baby’s tiny eyes peering at her, Prossy knew it was time to face the trauma she’d endured so she could be the best mother possible.

Prossy began participating in counseling sessions available to children and young adults who had escaped the LRA. At one of these counseling workshops she was encouraged to tell her story and did so for the first time. “I was asked to explain my experience from when I was abducted to when I escaped,” Prossy says. “I did it without tears. I was stable.”

She began to feel hopeful for her future and, early in 2008, Prossy interviewed with ChildVoice to enter its residential program at the Lukodi Centre. Her self-motivation, desire to learn, and positive nature earned her one of the 30 coveted spots in the program. She packed her belongings and, with Pretty in tow, moved to Lukodi in February of 2008.

Valentina knew that, this time, Prossy’s departure was for her good, for her healing. “This will now be your future. You will now go and learn,” Valentina advised as Prossy prepared to go. “You will be respectful. You will obey. Concentrate and study hard.”

Today, Prossy has developed into a leader among the child mothers at the Lukodi Centre. “ChildVoice is helping me all around,” Prossy describes, reflecting on her year in the program. “With the [vocational] courses, my future is secure,” she adds. “I’m learning how to parent and how to live among others.”

“When the students tire of their lessons and begin dwelling on their problems, Prossy is the one who reminds them of the opportunities they have here at the Lukodi Centre,” says Patty, catering instructor at the Centre.

While she loves learning, Prossy says counseling has been the key to her transformation. “Without counseling, I would not have the life I am living today,” she says and adds with a laugh, “Counseling should be a daily thing!”

At the Lukodi Centre, a full-time counselor, Winnie works with the child mothers on a regular basis. In addition, she counsels the families of the girls to help develop relationship skills and improve outcomes when the girls return home.

When Prossy is home for a weekend visit, her family sees the incredible changes in her since she left for the ChildVoice program. “She goes to the market, gets water, comes back home and makes meals,” describes her mother. “She is not as emotional and sleeps well, too.”

On this sunny day in the Unyama IDP camp, Prossy walks proudly to her family’s huts and the opportunity to see her newborn niece. Her visit to the camp does not go unnoticed. Her popularity remains and her smile cannot be contained. Friends and family of all ages wave from their huts. Small children weave their way through the tight quarters to catch up with her and offer a greeting.

Here she is: Prossy, a sure symbol of hope among these weary hearts.