The Depths of Ihungu

We traveled Tuesday night from Hoima to Masindi under a pin-pricked blanket of darkness.  With no electricity along the road for most of the 45 kilometer stretch, more stars were visible than it was humanly possible to count.  Tango and Daniel navigated the rutted and winding road seemingly effortlessly, dodging pedestrians, chickens, bicyclists, and motorcycles as they endeavored to stay out of each other’s dust wakes.  During the stretches of this narrow road that we were following another car, the dust choked out the view and choked up our lungs.  With no air conditioning in the car, we had to choose between either a dust mist with the windows open or a sauna with them closed.

As I stepped into the lobby of the Masindi Hotel, memories flooded back of the week I first met Henry.  Three Pepperdine Law alums and I flew out in January of 2010 to visit a juvenile detention center called Ihungu Remand Home and spent a week preparing the cases of twenty-one prisoners for trial.  Some of them had been incarcerated for nearly two years just waiting for a lawyer, the evidence against them, and a day in court.  Among them were Henry and his younger brother Joseph.

Wednesday morning, Henry made the trek from Hoima to Masindi and then accompanied us to the office of the Ihungu warden, Mr. William.  During the January, 2010 week at Ihungu, I got to know Mr. William quite well, and have stayed in contact with him as the result of a half-dozen return visits to Ihungu.  We hugged warmly, had a few laughs, and the set off down the rugged road to the remand home.

Mr. William had pre-approved the film crew capturing the bleak and raw existence the prisoners at Ihungu endure each day while they wait for the wheels of justice to turn.  So when we arrived, we all walked the entire grounds together as Henry narrated the scene.  Eventually, the camera came out for another walkthrough.  A portion of the story Henry needed tell involved a situation better avoided by Mr. William.  Over the years, he has maintained plausible deniability about the activities of the matron who lived with the juveniles, and needed to be protected from discussions about it.  So the two of us went for our own walk away from Henry and the cameras.  While we walked, Mr. William explained to me that the J-FASTER system we helped the judiciary established is continuing to work – the juveniles on remand used to languish for two years before they were brought to court.  Now, that time period is “just” a few months.  I was pleased to confirm what I had been told, but still there is room for improvement.

When it came time for Mr. William’s interview, he was eager to tell Ihungu’s story.  He quickly got the hang of waiting until after the question had been fully asked to start, and picked up on speaking in full sentences right away.

Mr. William on the steps of the juvenile sleeping quarters

Following his interview, Mr. William went back to town, but granted the film crew access to the entire place the rest of the day.  They definitely took him up on his offer.  At one point, Henry had a chance to address the current prisoners within the depths of Ihungu’s dark and dank dormitory.  He talked to them about his time as the Katikkiro of Ihungu (Prime Minister of the prison government), about life after Ihungu, and about why they shouldn’t lose hope in their future, or their trust in God.

It was an emotional day for all of us, but most particularly for Henry as he re-lived once again the two years he spent teeter-tottering between hope and despair.

The crew filmed straight through the day and all through “blue hour” (also called “magic hour”) when the light is at its best as the sun is setting.  The closing shots added a bit of metaphorical flare at the expense of Henry’s lungs and John’s (the director of photography) back.  Henry ran up and down the road just outside Ihungu fifteen or twenty times.  John chased him with the special MOVI camera for a while, then hung out the back of Tango’s van the other times.

On the move with the MOVI

(Incidentally, as the sun had started to set, we discovered that Tango’s van wouldn’t start.  After an hour of Daniel (court driver) fiddling with the motor, it finally got going.  Just in case, Tango left it running during dinner and while he refueled it for the journey home).

We finally set off for Kampala at 9:30 and stumbled into the hotel back in Kampala just after midnight.

Throughout the day, I checked in every couple hours with Andrew, Susan, and Dana who were out at the prison complex with the students and attorneys.  As the initial interviews with the inmates at Luzira Maximum wrapped up, those at Murchison Bay and Luzira Women’s prisons ramped up.  By late Wednesday afternoon, the eight groups of American and Ugandan lawyers and law students had completed the interviews at all three prisons.  In all, they totaled approximately 150 – about 50 prisoners more than we had even allowed ourselves to hope we could help.

But now comes the really hard work.  Following the interviews each evening, the Pepperdine students and Pepperdine lawyers convert their notes into a narrative report for each prisoner, which will be provided to the Ugandan lawyer who will represent the prisoner in plea negotiations with the prosecution over the next few weeks.  That work was ongoing into the evening and will continue in earnest for the next several days.

Like Tuesday, a few of our students spent much of the day at the prosecutor’s office reviewing and scanning police reports and other aspect of the prosecutors’ files to supplement the interviews.  Thank you, Apple, for the app that eliminates the need for a copy machine and paper that exists in Uganda in short supply.

As we looked ahead to Thursday, we weren’t sure how things would develop as we waited for additional files to be located and brought the prosecution’s headquarters.   But it wouldn’t be Uganda without uncertainty.