When Elephants Fight Read Free Page B

stretched out of sight as well. Next he looked on both sides of the road. Huts dotted the hills; small stalls— roadside stores—were frequent. Everything seemed as it should be. They were safe. At least for now. At least until darkness fell. He found himself quickening his pace.
    In some ways Jimmy and his brothers were lucky. For them the walk was only six or seven kilometers. They could make the trip in less than two hours. He knew of other children who were traveling twice as far.
    Then there were those who were too far away to make the walk. Rather than seeking a blanket in the town, they simply left their homes, left their villages and headed into the forest. Some would dig shallow depressions in the ground, lie down and push dirt back over themselves like a blanket to provide protection from the elements, animals and any prying eyes. Others hid in thickets, while some built crude shelters in the branches of trees. Jimmy couldn’t imagine having to live like that, sleep like that every night, but for them, as with his family, what was the choice?
    Everybody in the whole Gulu district knew what might happen to those who stayed behind. Jimmy had met people who had been attacked, hands or feet hacked off by blows from a machete or their lips and ears sliced off with a razor. He’d never forget the first time he’d seen somebody who had suffered that fate. Then there were those who were taken. Young girls were kidnapped to be sex slaves and young boys were taken at gunpoint to become child soldiers, leaving behind murdered parents and looted and burned villages.
    As darkness started to settle in, Jimmy felt that sense of uneasiness that he always felt at night. Still, he was reassured by what he could see ahead—the glow of lights in the sky marking the town of Gulu. And, on the road all around him were more and more children. Each little trickle, each stream, coming from all directions, had become a human river, and they were moving along in the current.
    The houses and stores became more frequent as they approached the town. And those buildings became more solid, made of brick and stone and blocks, some two- or even three-stories tall. Lights glowed from upper-story windows or storefronts. Around them, standing at watch, clustered together in little groups, sitting in trucks or vehicles, were soldiers and police. Strange: they fled men with guns to come here to be protected by other men with guns.
    Some of those stores remained open just for the night commuters, those who had a few shillings to purchase food. Here, every night was crowded like a market day. The streets were filled with thousands of people, mostly children, although they weren’t here to buy or sell, but simply to find a place to lie down for the night, to sleep.
    Most of the children had a place that they sought out, that they were familiar with. For Jimmy and his brothers it was a hostel called Noah’s Ark. It was run by UNICEF—United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund. The staff who ran the shelter were friendly and treated the children well. Each night the boys registered, were given a blanket to use and went to find a piece of ground where they could spend the night. In the space around them were other children. Jimmy didn’t know how many, but most nights there were between three and four
thousand
children. And that was just a percentage of the night commuters. Throughout the town there were half a dozen places, run by other aid agencies, church groups and the government. And even with all of those places, there were still those who simply slept on the streets. At least they were safe. And what choice did they have?
    Jimmy took his blanket, laid it down on the ground and wrappedhimself in it to ward away the night chill. Douglas placed his blanket down next to Jimmy, followed by Julius and Christopher on the far side so the two oldest sheltered the two youngest.

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