signifier as its ambiguous meaning resonates in different ways with different people. At the same time, it can be understood as psychological disorders, physical injuries as well as deep sorrow and distress. Much in the same vein, the Acholi concepts used to discuss the psychological after-effects of war are equally ambiguous, as depending on the personal convictions of those experiencing them, the symptoms can be interpreted from various ontological angles. So far in this thesis, the Acholi notions of war-related psychological symptoms have been conceptualised within the context of demonic and spirit possessions. However, not all Acholi agree with this reading as not all symptoms are thought to carry supernatural connotations. In Acholiland, as in all societies, the widely shared sociocultural understandings are always multivocal and open for contestation (Porter 2017, 4). Hence, not all Acholi believe in the existence of jogi and cen or share the Christian world view – but most do. For this reason, the cosmological origins of war-related symptoms are sometimes questioned by my research participants as well.
As mentioned in the previous chapters, out of the 20 formerly abducted persons taking part in this study 19 participants mentioned having experienced some psychological after- effects since returning from the war. In nine cases, the symptoms have ceased over time, but ten research participants reported still experiencing some war-related symptoms to this day. Out of these 19 participants, 13 attributed their symptoms to some form of cosmological pollution and six to non-spiritual mental disturbance.41 The only participant who said he had not encountered any psychological problems associated it with the clean conscience he had about his actions during the war: as a senior soldier, he helped others escape when he could and only killed enemy soldiers in combat situations which he
41 These include the aforementioned ajiji, which is generally used as the Acholi equivalent of trauma
attributed to acute fear and bad memories, and chola, a feeling of deep sorrow attributed to ‘too many thoughts’ that can spread from its sufferer to its surroundings (Finnström 2006, 53).
deemed as morally justifiable and, therefore, felt he had not transgressed any moral or cosmological boundaries which could have brought spiritual pollution upon him.
The symptoms that were interpreted as inner, subjective experiences without any particular cosmological dimension that would require specific cleansing or outside help were the mildest ones, mainly nightmares. Nightmares can be, but are not necessarily, seen as something related to cen possessions (Victor & Porter 2017, 594), as in some cases my research participants saw them as normal after-effects of war and reflections of the distressing things that had happened to them in the LRA’s ranks. As one female participant explained:
When you are in the bush, you are still experiencing those things42, and you don’t even have time to think about what you have gone through because [in the bush] there is no night or day. You are always up and down, and you don’t even have dreams there because what I know is that in most cases you dream about what you have been thinking so much about.
Out of my research participants, three men and three women reported having experienced nightmares without having cen or feeling that the symptoms were related to underlying spiritual causes. Four participants, who were still suffering occasionally from mild nightmares, felt that attending prayers and being delivered helped them keep their symptoms at bay, whereas with two participants the nightmares had ceased over time on their own. One research participant reckoned that the reason behind him not suffering from nightmares any longer was a practical one:
Nowadays, there's nothing, not even a rumour that the LRA has been seen or that they have had an attack somewhere. I do not think about them so much anymore. It is easy to forget, and those things are now going from my mind as the LRA’s name also gets to be quiet. I have left those things there in the past.
In contrast, those six research participants who were still experiencing more severe symptoms such as hallucinations, compulsive thoughts of killing or attacking others, uncontrollable violent behaviour, or dissociative fits attributed their symptoms to supernatural, cosmological pollution and, therefore, considered it a relational, inter-
42 ‘Those things’ is a term similar to ajwani which the Acholi use to describe cen and other war-related
symptoms in a way that leaves open the origins of the afflictions (Meinert & Whyte 2017a, 272–273). This does not mean that the symptoms are necessarily thought to belong to the spiritual realm, but rather it portrays the uncertainty surrounding the origins of these symptoms (ibid., 274). However, in this and the following quote I propose that ‘those things’ refers to the disturbing experiences the research participants went through during the war instead of referring to the dreams themselves, as here the dreams are perceived simply as reflections of the past experiences instead of actual symptoms.
subjective issue. What combines these experiences is their out of the ordinary nature, as they result in the symptom sufferers losing control or awareness of their own actions which often make them act against the Acholi social norms, indicating that there are other forces at play. Therefore, the symptoms are deemed more troublesome than having mere nightmares which are perceived to be a normal occurrence in everyday life as bad dreams are experienced by everyone occasionally unlike the more severe symptoms. In some cases, there were clear indications of the cosmological origins of the symptoms, as contemplated by one of my research participants named Opio:
A daughter to one of my aunties was killed by UPDF in the bush. An aeroplane dropped a bomb, and she got a serious injury. She was crying with my name, pleading: "Please come and help me!" but we were forced to go and leave that place. Later someone told me that she had died while mentioning my name, yelling: "Please, Opio, come and help me! Please, please, please, Opio, don't leave me!" I think those are the things that are bringing the problems upon me.
Out of those research participants who attributed their symptoms to any form of cosmological pollution – either cen, ‘evil spirits’, or ‘devil attacks’ – six were still experiencing them frequently today. All of the participants had attended prayers, two had gone to an ajwaka, and one had visited a hospital. In four cases, the participants felt that the prayers had significantly reduced their symptoms even though they would return back after a while, and one thought that the ajwaka ritual had helped as well. However, two research participants said that the prayers did them no good. One was hoping that participation in a ritual held by an ajwaka would finally cure her, but the other believed that there is no cure for the symptoms from which he was suffering. Instead, all of those whose symptoms had ceased thanked attending prayers for it. Here is how one participant explained how praying alleviated her symptoms:
I have been getting problems, and the best solution for me is the prayers. I have been praying on my own, and sometimes I go to the church leaders to pray with them. I still sometimes experience [visions] even when I’m not sleeping – or if a child commits something bad and I give the child a beating, I feel like I cannot stop and I continue until someone comes to the rescue. So, I have stopped doing that. I now only tell them what is good and bad without beatings. But going to the church helps so much. When I am prayed on, the problems go away, and I can live a happy life. Sometimes things are too hard for me but at least when I pray those things are relieved.
This type of violent and asocial behaviour caused by war-related symptoms is generally attributed to the cen possessions and ‘war-mentality’ that the former LRA soldiers were perceived to have come back from the war with, which is one of the reasons behind the former abductees’ stigmatisation (Finnström 2008, 162–163). Today, the level of stigma has reduced significantly from the time of the abductees’ return, but deviant behaviour caused by psychological symptoms still affect some former abductees’ acceptance to the Acholi society. These problems were especially visible with women in this study, as six female research participants out of ten reported having separated from one or more husbands because of the fear caused by their war-related symptoms. The husbands were often pressured by their families who did not approve of the formerly abducted women’s unpredictable behaviour. Here is how one of my female research participants put it:
I started experiencing the cen one or two months after I came back home [from the bush]. This is the reason why I even separated from my first husband because sometimes I just got up and started to yell and those people from the husband's place, they were like: "Eh, you, one day this woman will kill you!" So, we had to separate. The thing has just stopped last year when I was engaged in serious prayers, and it has not disturbed me anymore. But I have to wear a rosary all the time, even when I sleep.
In the patriarchal Acholi society, the separated women are often left without protection and proper standing as living arrangements and inheritance follow the patriclan and the women’s identity is primarily built around their status as mothers and wives (Porter 2017, 89, 225).43 Many of my male research participants, on the other hand, have found themselves in land wrangles with neighbours and relatives.44 Because of fear caused by either my research participants’ existing symptoms or anticipated war-mentality and the long absence from home due to abduction, they were unable to attend to their clan land, which has led some of them losing the titles to their father’s land.
Therefore, the psychological symptoms experienced by my research participants become entangled in their subjection to the patriarchal structures of the Acholi society which, in
43 Most of my female research participants returned from the war with children born in captivity whose
fathers had either died or their whereabouts and kinship affiliations were unknown. Thus, these children neither belonged to any patrilineage nor were they usually accepted to join their mothers’ new husbands’ clans. This left especially male children outside of access to clan land and inheritance, which meant that they were also cast outside of the moral community (Porter 2017, 197). The situation was slightly better with female children, as they moved to live at their husband’s place when they married.
44 In some cases, my female research participants were also involved in land conflicts which have been
frequent in Acholiland since the war. However, in these cases, the contested land was usually purchased and not inherited. Along the same line, sometimes women separate from their husbands because of their war-related symptoms, but this is significantly less common than the other way around.
turn, can affect the former abductees’ intersubjective relationships. This way, the cosmological afflictions are not contained within the interactions between the symptom sufferer and the spiritual agent, as the spirits have the power to unsettle this-worldly relationships as well. The biggest concern of my research participants was not so much what impact the psychological symptoms had on themselves but on the damage that it did to their social connectedness and relations with others. The animosity that the symptoms created between people was feared to breed more problems, as the strained relationships could encourage both parties to resort to cursing or witchcraft which would cause further cosmological disturbance and misfortune (Harlacher 2009, 340; Porter 2017, 136). This poses a threat to the social harmony of the whole Acholi society which is centred around the principle of maintaining the cosmological equilibrium in the relationships among the living and the dead (Porter 2017, 3). Thus, rebuilding bonds between the former abductees and their communities as well as with the spirit agents – or remaking the world of the trauma sufferers, as Lester (2013, 760) calls it – is central to the well- being of my research participants. In the next chapter, I look closer at how intersubjective relationships are repaired and offer some suggestions of how healing is achieved in the context of the three healing practices examined in this thesis.