Ken was only six years old when his father was arrested and jailed for beating up his mother so badly that she lost an eye. He had grown up in a home where yelling, broken furniture, and his mother crying in the bathroom were the norm.
One night, things escalated. Ken watched his father hit his mother on the face repeatedly with a bottle. That night, the LC 1 Chairman came with the police and whisked his father away in handcuffs. Everything changed from that night on.
Although violence stopped, Ken carried the invisible wounds into adulthood. As a child, he developed anxiety, had trouble sleeping, and often felt on edge, even when nothing was wrong. In school, he had difficulty concentrating and was labelled as a “troublemaker.” Teachers did not realise that his behaviour was a response to trauma.
By his 20s, the patterns were set. Ken feared conflict and avoided leadership roles at work. In relationships, he pulled away whenever things got too close. He wanted love but did not know how to feel safe in it. After several breakups left him feeling broken and ashamed, Ken finally sought therapy. It was there that he heard the term Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) for the first time. Then, things started to make sense.
ACEs are traumatic events that happen before the age of 18, including abuse, neglect, domestic violence, or growing up in a home with substance abuse or mental illness.
These experiences leave invisible marks that shape how people see themselves, others, and the world. According to the landmark CDC-Kaiser Permanente ACE study, the more trauma a person endures in childhood, the greater their risk for health problems, emotional struggles, and even early death.
Hidden scars
For many adults like Ken, the past shows up in unexpected ways. It is in the woman who flinches at raised voices. The man who feels safest when he is alone. The mother who cannot understand why her child’s tears make her panic.
Research shows that people with high ACE scores are more likely to suffer from heart disease, diabetes, and chronic illnesses. But perhaps the most devastating effects are emotional: anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress, and the silent exhaustion that comes from living on edge for too long.
‘Children who grow up in constant fear do not just remember trauma,’ says one Kampala-based psychologist. ‘Their brains are wired around it. They learn that the world is unsafe and that belief follows them into adulthood.’
How trauma shapes the brain
Science now proves what survivors have always known: trauma changes the brain. Chronic stress in childhood floods the body with stress hormones such as cortisol, which can shrink the hippocampus (responsible for memory), enlarge the amygdala (the brain’s fear centre), and weaken the prefrontal cortex (which controls reasoning and self-control). The result? Adults who are quick to anger or withdraw, who struggle to focus or make decisions, and who sometimes feel emotions more intensely than others.
Emotional cost
Many survivors of ACEs spend adulthood trying to manage pain they never asked for. Some throw themselves into work, relationships, or alcohol to numb the emptiness. Others overachieve, believing perfection might finally make them feel worthy.
Then some repeat the cycles they swore to escape. Without healing, the pain of one generation often becomes the blueprint for the next. Psychologists call this intergenerational trauma; when children inherit not just genes, but unhealed emotional wounds. This cycle is not inevitable but healing is possible.
Resilience is real
Not everyone who experiences trauma ends up broken. Support, connection, and the belief that healing is possible. Ken’s life began to shift once he started therapy. ‘It was not easy,’ he says. ‘There were nights I cried like that little boy again. But I began to understand that what happened to me was not my fault. I learnt to forgive, not to excuse, but to free myself.’
Therapy helped him build healthier boundaries and manage his anxiety. He reconnected with his mother and learnt how to show love without fear.
‘I still get triggered sometimes,’ he admits, ‘but now I know what is happening inside me. I can breathe through it instead of running away.’
What parents can do
While we cannot always prevent all difficult experiences, we can reduce the harm and build resilience in our children.
Create safety at home
Make sure your child feels physically and emotionally safe. Let them know it is okay to express feelings, even anger or sadness without punishment.
Model healthy relationships. Children learn more from what they see than what they are told. Handle disagreements calmly. Show them respect, empathy, and kindness.
Talk about feelings. Ask open-ended questions; ‘What made you happy today?’ or ‘What upset you?’ Teaching children to name emotions helps them manage them.
Seek help early. If there is domestic violence, substance abuse, or untreated mental illness at home, reach out for help. One stable, loving adult makes a difference in the whole world.
Build a support network. Grandparents, teachers, mentors, neighbours, and caring adults remind children they are valued and safe.
Consistent routines. Regular meals, bedtimes, and daily structure help children feel secure.
Encourage self-worth. Praise effort and resilience, not just achievement. Let them know they matter for who they are, not what they do.
Stay connected to community and culture. Involvement in community groups, religious or cultural traditions can provide a sense of belonging, identity, and moral grounding. These support systems can act as protective factors against adversity.