During one of my work visits to Northern Uganda, I was shocked to see that some war survivors still had no lips or ears, while others said they had never received treatment for their gunshot injuries.
Their faces still carry the pain of war the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) waged in northern Uganda, which ended two decades ago.
Twenty years on, survivors are still waiting for reparations, and a stalled transitional justice Bill is a big hindrance.
We recently marked Independence and the International Day of Rural Women. For survivors, especially women and children who lost their dignity and identity, the celebrations ring hollow. Their version of Uhuru, the freedom we celebrate every October, has not reached them.
Although there has been some humanitarian support, it has been insufficient. A 2024 ActionAid study titled Civil society movements reshaping peace and security in Northern Uganda, with women and youth groups in Amuru, Gulu, and Kitgum, found that only 4 percent of survivors receive grants lasting three years or more. Most grants last under a year. Trauma, stigma, and land disputes do not heal in 12 months.
Land is part of the problem. Several women cannot inherit it, so they have nowhere to farm.
Women who had returned from the LRA’s bush camps told us life there was easier. One said she never worried about food in the bush, but now struggles to feed her children. Another said the welcome she received when she returned from the bush gave way to rejection at home, where leaders, friends, and relatives turned her away. The returnees had to form their own groups to find belonging.
Outside help has faded too. During the insurgency, several NGOs worked in the north without answering to the people they served, and they focused on emergencies, not recovery. After the war, their numbers fell despite ongoing needs. Survivors say their stories fuelled viral campaigns like Invisible Children’s Kony 2012 video, yet no long-term help followed.
The next generation carries the cost. Between 4,000 and 8,000 children were born in captivity. Several clans rejected them and their mothers. These young adults remain deeply traumatised, lack inheritance rights, and face exclusion from leaders, communities, and families.
Some will say a policy already exists. It does, but with implementation gaps. In June 2019, Cabinet approved the National Transitional Justice Policy, which promises accountability, reconciliation, and reparations. But a policy is not a law, and survivors cannot enforce a promise.
The law is where the delay lies. In 2024, Parliament allowed Hon Charles Onen to introduce a private member’s transitional justice Bill. By October 2025, Justice minister Norbert Mao had asked that his ministry takes over the draft and publicly criticised technocrats for delaying it. Public records do not show whether the Bill has become law.
A June 2026 assessment by the International Centre for Transitional Justice found that continued delay leaves the policy largely unimplemented.
So what must happen? The Ministry of Justice should publish the Bill’s status and an action timeline sooner than later. The 12th Parliament should review and pass the Bill.
The government, donors, and NGOs should fund long-term survivors’ rehabilitation, mental health care, livelihoods, and legal help with land claims. As they do so, they should listen to survivors and facilitate them to lead recovery efforting a war does not end its consequences. Peace means survivors can get justice, treatment, land, acceptance, and laws that facilitate recovery. Until they can, it is not yet Uhuru for them.