Kony 2012 seems to have become an overnight sensation, but for some it’s been reality all their life.

Grace Doru, practical nursing student at the college, has known first-hand the horrific legacy that is Joseph Kony.

 

In 1999-2000, Doru worked in hotel management, but there weren’t many job opportunities where she lived. She decided to pursue a job at Paralodge in northern Uganda.

To get there, Doru traveled by bus through Queen Elizabeth Park, which was situated in Gulu, an area of land. Gulu is where Kony was suspected to be at the time.

“I almost became a victim. It’s a very scary thing to think about,” says Doru.

Her bus broke down when the tires were punctured from spikes strung across the road by rebels. She thought about waiting until it was repaired and heading in the direction of her job, but she was frightened and fearful of her safety. Before the rebels could come and attack, Doru caught another bus going in the opposite direction.

Later, Doru learned the bus she’d been on was attacked by Kony’s rebels.

“If I had continued [that] journey, I would probably be one of them,” says Doru.

Doru recalls how the rebels would attack villages and abduct children, including her younger cousin who to this day is missing.

“Rebels, when they move it’s like a herd. Like a herd of elephants.”

However, she described Kony and his rebels as the exact opposite.

“He was really an invisible creature. His rebels are the rebels he’s taken from families. They don’t feel anything, they’re so violent,” says Doru. “There’s a saying he’s probably a spirit.”

When the war in Uganda started, Doru’s family fled to the bush for a year, walking miles each day while her mother was pregnant. Then they were taken by truck to one of the biggest refugee camps in northern Kenya—Kakuuma Camp.

“Camp was very frustrating and devastating. The way you’re treated was not right.”

When the land clashes in Kenya began, Doru tried to leave and return to Uganda, but there was no work. Eventually, Doru found work with the World Health Organization doing a feeding program. Her sister worked in Gulu at an orphanage ran by Americans who helped girls who’d been taken by Kony and been used for sex.

“Some of them had babies at 12 and 13. They were turned into prostitutes,” says Doru.

While Doru wants Kony to be brought to justice, she isn’t convinced with the idea of the Kony 2012 movement.

“Where were they before when we really needed them?”

Heather Nish, administrative assistant at the college, believes that Kony 2012 and Invisible Children should be supported.

In 2006, she watched the original documentary about the situation in Uganda.

The film showed rebels coming into villages at night and abducting children. Children, as young as six, from all over would walk miles to bigger cities to sleep so they’d be safer. Once the sun rose they’d walk back home.

“It just killed me. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t hear about that suffering, even if it is halfway across the world without doing something,” say Nish.

Over the years Nish has bought DVDs, bracelets and T-shirts. She’s currently writing a letter to the Prime Minister.

“I came home from work and started thinking about what I wanted to say. The government needs to assist countries that are poor or have warlords.”

Recently, Invisible Children has been criticized for its lack of structure and where some of the donations are going, but Nish believes it should still be supported because there are people still needing help.

“Why would you criticize someone for trying to do something good, when you’re not doing anything,” says Nish. “Some of them were six years old. They were little kids.”