It was evidently shot at night – that picture of a woman with the  expressionless stare, in a red-blood shirt, alone by the hearth from which  hungry fire tongues lick a small pan that is seemingly empty like the plate in  front of her. 
This is the symbolic cover page of Today You Will Understand – a collection  of 16 first-person accounts of women affected by war in northern Uganda. 
The title stems from the story of Mildred, a widow who heard those words  shouted by rebels in command to her children to get back into the hut before it  was set ablaze. She jumped over dead bodies and sustained terrible injuries  while extricating her six children from the flames. 
The book captures the reality of living under strife. There is weeping for  the dead. Widowed mothers struggle to raise their children. Young girls say they  were forced to marry rough old commanders. 
The race is too hard to win. Those who were desperate to see home again clung  to the rope of hope and made it through the valley of the shadow of death and  see it as a miracle. They have endured life’s hard knocks; shared caves with  cobras and survived the jungle and rumble of gunfire. 
Eunice saw a little boy put in a very big mortar and pounded to death. For  Hellen, “They [rebels] cut my buttocks and breast.” These women don’t know  happiness.
They see this world as a paradox. They are haunted by what they saw and did  in the bush; the rape, the starvation, the homicide. And after a narrow escape,  instead of liberty, they were confronted by the perils of living in internally  displaced people’s camps. 
As Mildred starkly puts it, “This business of putting people in one place has  brought diseases of different natures but HIV/Aids has finished many…” After  distilling their experiences and finding no answer to why the innocent suffer  this much, some have pardoned the grotesque misdeeds of Kony but others cannot  forget the horror. 
“Even at night when I go to bed and try to recall what happened to us, I feel  that Kony should not be alive,” says Lily. It has taken Lucy over two decades to  accept and compose a song about her plight: “It is called Why Do I Face Problems  Yet I’m Still Young. When I sing it, it relieves me of pain.”
Uganda Women Writers Association (Femrite) collaborated with Integrated  Regional Information Networks (Irin) to document these heartrending stories.  
“Through these stories, the women reflect on their true value; they  re-identify themselves and reconstruct themselves anew,” writes Femrite  coordinator Hilda Twongyeirwe. 
As is indispensable for any reader interested in how war has crushed but not  silenced the indomitable spirit of the displaced woman of northern Uganda, Today  You Will Understand equally shows how they grapple on with finding love and  acceptance.
 
