advocate-summer-2013.. - The Mill Hill Missionaries

It was now timeto run for itVery soon a white Susuki United Nations’vehicle drove up to the College; ithad been hijacked and two soldiers withAK47's jumped out. Before we realisedit both my car and that of the headmasterhad been robbed from us at gunpoint. Iwill never forget the sinking feeling I hadas I watched my car being driven awayat high speed. This was not the end.Very soon we could hear the sound ofgunfire all over the town. The looting hadstarted. The college was on a hill overlookingthe town and now we could seemore soldiers making their way up to thecollege, firing in the air as they came. Itwas now time to run for it.Two students, who had remained behindduring the holidays to do somestudy, led me to a secret hole in the wirefence where I could get out. Studentsknow how to escape from school Ithought to myself! At the same time Iwas glad to have this secret exit. I ran asfast as I could down a valley, passingthrough a banana plantation, then a coffeeplantation, until I came to a drystream at the foot of the hill - anything toget away from the line of fire.The evening wasnow falling - Iplanned to hideEvening was now falling and I plannedto lie down and hide in the high grass.8Soon a young man came towards me.‘Come and stay with us’ - he said. Hebrought me to his home where a smallgroup of people sat around outside thehouse, speaking in hushed tones. Thegunfire from the town grew louder andlouder as it echoed from Mount Elgonwhich lay behind us. I sat among them,the only white person. Food was broughtto me but I had no appetite.A sleepless night -but notfor the childrenDarkness had now fallen and we wereglad of it, but the shooting still continuedin the distance. The hours slipped by andat around four in the morning, there wasless shooting. My kind friend told methat it was now safe to go inside and rest.The house was a mud cabin. I just sat up– waited and prayed. At around six oclock the gunfine began to stop and tomy delight I could now see rays of sunlightcreeping through the cracks in theclay walls of the house. The soldiersnever came to loot where we were. Insteadthey had gone to the wealthy suburbsof the town. Afterwards, we alsoheard that civilians took part in the looting.There was no road to the placewhere I stayed and in fact I had spent thenight in what could be called a "safehouse".I could now hear the happy sound ofsmall children. Evidently they had sleptthroughout the whole ordeal. It was timefor me to say goodbye and to thank mygood friends who sheltered me. I mademy way back to the college. All wascalm. A few days later, Fr.Kiwanuka,who was the rector of the seminary, cameto collect me. We made a brief stop in thetown to view the destruction. The wholeplace was in a shambles with brokenwindows and bits of furniture scatteredeverywhere. A tall white man came walkingtowards me. He was an official of theU.N. ‘What nationality are you, sir? -Are you aware that there is an evacuation?’I told him I was a missionary andthat as missionaries we did not like toleave the people we had come to serve.Some years later when everything waspeaceful once again I felt that I had a littlebit of unfinished business to attend to.‘I really must go back to Mbale andthank those kind people who had shelteredme during that terrible night’. Butthat mud house had long since beenpulled down and the people had goneaway. New people had come to the areaand erected their own shanty dwellings.Life had moved on and the people whowere kind to me were no longer there toreceive my thanks. But we know thatGod will bless and reward them: ‘I wasa stranger and you took me in… As longas you did it to one of these the least ofmy brethren, you did it to me’ - Jesussaid.In a more peaceful setting: With some members of his Kilkenny Legion Of Marygroup. From left to right: Fr. Donal, Anna Maher, Eileen Nugent, Carmel Hoganand Con Nyham..