Love that altered when alteration found
Their eyes shone with anticipation as they gathered to listen. Any inquiry into their status was but a ray of hope. Hope to trample the poverty, hope to topple the abuse, and hope to yield to the glances of their starving children. Children who have become breeding ground for flies and oh! yes hope for a better life.
Mirinda-Pepsi as they looked, one could still catch a glimpse of the once visible beauty where there was any. Beauty that swept the Ugandan Soldiers off their feet, beauty that boiled their blood with passion, passion that made them vulnerable to promises of everlasting love.
Everlasting love that altered when alteration found.
Prostitute, gold digger, useless, materialistic, immoral are but a few words that best describe them in the community.
They can only be the hundreds of Congolese women who sought for love in the arms of Uganda’s armed forces only to find hatred, rejection and spite where promises of everlasting love once lay.
Listening to tale after tale of love gone bad, last week filled my heart with such disgust for human nature. Simply put, I am still so pissed that I cannot even describe the whole venture I had in Gulu last week. Watch the space for the 311
Mirinda-Pepsi as they looked, one could still catch a glimpse of the once visible beauty where there was any. Beauty that swept the Ugandan Soldiers off their feet, beauty that boiled their blood with passion, passion that made them vulnerable to promises of everlasting love.
Everlasting love that altered when alteration found.
Prostitute, gold digger, useless, materialistic, immoral are but a few words that best describe them in the community.
They can only be the hundreds of Congolese women who sought for love in the arms of Uganda’s armed forces only to find hatred, rejection and spite where promises of everlasting love once lay.
Listening to tale after tale of love gone bad, last week filled my heart with such disgust for human nature. Simply put, I am still so pissed that I cannot even describe the whole venture I had in Gulu last week. Watch the space for the 311
Labels: rants
posted by Duksey @ 6:20 am
6 Comments:
At 4/25/2007 6:55 am ,
kissyfur said...
I can only guess you have been to the camps as I have......the horror, nobody an fathom.
At 4/25/2007 10:14 pm ,
The 27th Comrade said...
You've got to feel sorry for them people who convince themselves that `this one time, it is for real'. All them soldiers had families on this side of the border. When they cross, they get to need some [cough, cough] warmth, so they run to the busty Congolese women, at least for a taste of authenticité. And the women are convinced that a guy who has laid you on this side of the border, even with his family back at home, will take you back to Uganda, and be different.
At 4/26/2007 12:03 am ,
Duksey said...
Very sorry indeed for people who can be fooled by the heat generated by two bodies.Much as i couldnt help feel sorry for them,i was angry that they hadnt figured out that a **** with a soldier in battlefield is just the moment's spark.
At 4/27/2007 2:13 am ,
Moses Odokonyero said...
Look chic, you look at a ditch, that's if you can see it,well aware that if you jumped in you would break your nose, but we still jump there. That's love for you.
At 4/28/2007 6:33 am ,
Baz said...
It isn't the 4-11 any more?
At 4/30/2007 2:02 am ,
Duksey said...
baz;when you are so mad,it can be anything or atleast you can force it to be huh!
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