MY HATCH POCKET JOURNAL by BILLY COY (affordable ebook reader .txt) 📕

he could have got to me back at the camp where his superior, my husband, was his commanding officer. He raped me and I can tell you, sincerely, I enjoyed it, because this was a guy my age for once, all the ugly dead commanders were way too older than I was, and here was a man my age for the first time in my life, making me feel a woman; though I faked pain and the struggle, his every encounter made me complete. Did I love him? No. I just enjoyed the moment. And most of all he was such a brave young man to go against all odds and abuse his superior’s wife, it was an act of a very brave soldier. And besides, that was the only way I felt like I was paying back my present husband who I hated more than the last two dead ones.


Just giving birth to the child I had got from one of the vicious acts that can ever be done to a woman made me feel superior too, because here were two mean men who neither knew the truth about the child I was carrying. The young soldier thought it was his and so did the commanding officer. But I was the only one who had the right answer, and that made me great and it really started to show me the strength of us women.

From the time he raped me, I kept having untimely and not intended sexual encounters with the young rebel soldier, which I started to hate and hating the man himself. Here he was, at first my hero, and now he was becoming my worst nightmare. His taking advantage of my body every time he wished made me hate myself and him more. He was headed to the dark corners of the world, and only I knew that. He was totally naïve.

One rainy day, when most rebels had left for a combat attack against the UPDF who were now head strong on them, this young brave soldier of mine, who was once my pride showed up back at the camp surprisingly; knowing that if he was caught by his superiors or even his fellow juniors he would be killed instantly, but that must not have bothered him at all, though he was stealthy in his arrival at the camp and approach to me. He loved me, and most of all my “vulnerable body,” so he could do anything to have me at his mercy, even if it were in death’s eyes. And he surely stood right in death’s eyes this time. It was also my chance to get rid of him, and I gladly did.

I managed to put an axe right through his scalp into his head as he rested from the many rounds he had tortured and abused my body. I then, helped by my co-wife, who was twenty years older than me and had known about this young soldiers’ evils against me all along; we dug a hole six feet in the ground at the back of the chief’s hurt and buried my once hero, the young rebel soldier. With his death, my happiness


was back; I had got rid of my worst burden ever. When I gave birth to his son three months later, I felt so proud to be a woman. He was my son and nobody else is, because not even my husband had returned from that military combat against the government forces. I heard that he had been shot twice in the head and had died instantly. I was happy again. From then on no other man ever bothered to look at me, I was considered a curse, because every man who had ever married me had died. So I was free again. The curse label only made me free, unlike many other young and older girls and women who still lived at the mercy of men. I was a soldier in my own right, and a rebel at heart.

In 2005, when the offensive by the government against Kony and his rebels had intensified, that is when I got back real happiness and freedom. I was among the many abductees that had grown with the rebellion that were saved from captivity. Though it came a little late when my hope and that of many other abductees had faded from existence in our minds, I guess the Lord had something else in store. We were finally free. But prior to my and many other victims’ freedom, I had experienced the worst pain to ever pass through my veins. All my three children had perished away in the cholera and Ebola outbreaks that had devastated a lot of people in Northern Uganda, of which even the rebel camp was not an exception.

I cried and cried many nights and never smiled or laughed again till the day of my real freedom. Kenny, the son of the young rebel soldier whose life I had taken without ever feeling guilty about what I had done or even having any bit of remorse, even in my heart, was my only surviving child that I walked with from hell to freedom. We were finally home, not to paradise, but to safety at least. From then I knew that nothing lasts forever and that pain will always pass. There is always a brighter day tomorrow. It might not be now or any time soon in any one’s life, but change and a brighter day is coming, just keep believing and hoping; if the two are done with strong desire, work and


determination, they can never fail man; it’s man who fails them most of the time. The world is hostile, and so should your heart be resilient and mind always hoping, with eyes focused.

Maybe by the time you read the story of my life’s sorrows and happy moments, my son and I will be in the everlasting life, because with the AIDS virus in our bodies that was handed over to us by the young rebel soldier, my son cannot last any more two years, and for me, I am tired of living, death at this time of my life is sweeter than life. I have to say goodbye to you before I literally leave; goodbye if you still see the sun and were able to read about my life up to this far. Take care. Life is a very twisted journey but manageable and always conquered by the bold and brave.


CHAPTER TWO CRAZY MIND Hope after hurt
I look around and I wonder; don’t start to worry yet, I am not looking at
you, though I come to you invisible in my words, I count on the man upstairs. And please don’t think I am talking about your darling husband upstairs in both your bedroom but you choose to deny him what goes on in there, and you’re comfortably seated in the living room reading “Crazy mind.” Anyway, if it is a coincidence as most people call it, as if there is really anything like coincidence, it’s all right.

Everything happens for a reason, so stop thinking that there is anything like coincidence, though the word itself exists and has a meaning to it. What about it anyway, everything in this world has a meaning anyway.

Okay, as I was still saying, if your darling husband is upstairs and you’re downstairs in the living-room reading “crazy mind,” well, I don’t mean to be predictive but I think you should run upstairs to both your bedroom and check out why he is so silent, maybe he is preparing you divorce papers, a business trip, or maybe, I know this may be hard for you to believe, but if your bedroom has a spacious windows too, I wouldn’t doubt me if I were you, he might as well be with another woman in your marital bed, how about that; as you’re seated comfortably in the living-room being crazy and becoming wise reading my crazy mind. But if your bedroom has no windows at all or if the windows are bar guarded, stay put, rest assured he is not even in the


bedroom, he might have left long time ago without your notice and he is out in some motel room “meshing,” at least it’s not in your marital bed, stay seated comfortably, don’t worry, keep reading crazy mind dear.

Anyway, baby girl I was just kidding, I don’t want you to get worried anymore, your husband might not be cheating on you right now, but at least he is out late with the boys gambling your life savings away, that’s at least better off than going against his marriage vows he made before God and you; gambling was never agreed on or in the vows, so keep calm and read on “crazy mind,” who knows, you might as well get crazy, knowledgeable and entertained all through the course of the tale.

Okay, have you ever been jilted by somebody you thought was the only fish in the sea? Well, I hear lovers tell each other, while still in the honeymoon of love, “Honey, you’re the only fish in the sea for me,” forgetting that the sea is salty and its waters can’t be drunk given a chance of saving your life, and besides taking any of it might just kill you instead of saving you from thirst. So, next time you tell your lover that they are the only fish in the sea for you, you can as well be kind to recall that the sea waters are salty and that there can’t be only one fish in the sea because the sea is a very big water body; there are a lot of fish in the sea to pick from, and many die along the way too, but still fish exist there. And so, next time you may want to refer your lover to the sea or the fish in it, you might as well tell them that if they ever leave, you will drown in the sea and wish to be saved like Jonah in the Bible. Of course most of us have been saved that way, by another fish to be precise. Let me hope I’ve not hurt you, because it’s what I would want so that you can get up again and learn from failure.

You might praise a chic or guy in one minute and the other, surprisingly, many minutes are the best of enemies. Love is really a lethal injection when it goes wrong, if you asked me. So my friend, what happens if the


one you called the only fish in the sea, in the next couple of minutes dumps you, wouldn’t you ever fish in the sea ever again, or you would move to the ocean, lake, river, pond or any other water source with fish in it. But be careful still, mind where you fish next time!

Anyway, calling somebody the only fish in the sea is okay and fitting, now I can see, because once you’re jilted by your lover, you may cry and the tears are with no doubt salty too. And if you don’t cry either, the hurt would still be close to drinking salty water or salt to a wound. Oh, now I can