TRUTH AT LAST: Why I Reveal My 10-Year-Old Secret Today…!
I am writing about myself, not about South Sudan/ese, this time. But before I dive deeper into this brief but compact revelation of the secrets I have been holding to my chest for the last 10 years, let me kick it off with a quote.
“I have no trouble with my enemies. I can take care of my enemies in a fight. But my friends, my goddamned friends, they’re the ones who keep me walking the floor at nights!” – Warren G. Harding.
In the dawn of Tuesday, 26 April 2006, alas, they came for me at last! They picked me, doused me with chloroform, blindfolded me, bundled me in their car boot and drove me off to God-knew-where hell. Later in the night, I realized I was in some dwarf grass-thatched and wattle hut. It hurt! Five days later, it turned out to be a Mabira Forest ritual killing den, over 50 kilometres from my hostel room in Makerere University.
Please, complete the whole testimony of what happened and how it happened from the link provided below to the story I published those days. However, what remained unknown or known in many other ways was why I was kidnapped. Thank God, a Good Samaritan revealed it to me in writing 10 years later! Amen! It took me this long before revealing this overriding evidence because I had not sought enough consent from my whistle-blower to make his secret message public for my personal image recovery after my negative relatives, drugged with envy, dragged me in their piggery mud for the last decade.
SCREENSHOTS OF THE E-MAILS BETWEEN MY WHISTLEBLOWER AND ME:
(Leaked evidence from him)
(See REPLY from me below)
But why make it public now? It’s my brothers: my own brothers, my Bor bros, my friends, my fellow journalists, especially former classmates, college colleagues, the youth of South Sudan, the uncouth ones, who tempted me to do this…! They gave me sleepless nights for 10 years with all possible fabrications and prevarications on my own story of – not what but – why it happened to me. My brothers (10 names withheld here) have given me hell for since 2006. They have made a big hit out of it, though, it is now going to backfire on them. The reasons, they know it best. Maybe they think I am their competitor for a position of an area MP or those fake commissioners’ titles. I told some of them, personally, privately, that my career was not in direct politics, not in making riches out of CDF (Community Development Funds), that I am just a community development fan, that I have a talent to harness and harvest. Do they understand? Hell No!
For example, last night, one of the journalists, supported by a host of other malicious militias of the social media. posted this (as screenshots) on Facebook about the rampant terror that has struck the media fraternity of South Sudan. Instead of my former reporter and other brothers disputing the claims being made by their fellow journalists in 2016 (as lies, even two weeks after Isaac Vuni’s death news), they unearthed the 10-year-old history in a thinly veiled anonymity on a certain ‘brother/friend of Makerere University in 2005 or 2006’, but which later surfaced to be about me. This is by the same brother who published a damning account on the death of our brother, the late John Akuach Jook, maliciously implicating me in 2009…as published on Bor Globe website, but later pulled down for reasons best known to the webmasters.
Here are some screenshots of their PREVARICATIONS against our so-called ‘FABRICATIONS’:
CONCLUSION: But before descending into details below, see why my scarecrows should not crow at me every time there is death at my neighbourhood, click the following link to the story of how I survived the stabbing and kidnapping in Kampala in 2006 and 2007, respectively, (Page 9 of the PDF)…JST0404_Issue9new,
CONCLUDING EXCERPT FROM ANOTHER ARTICLE: “However, this serves to warn my petty ‘securicorats’, those volunteer informants who make their daily living on me (us)…where I am, what I am doing, who I am meeting, what is on my computer, on this blog, on my Facebook, on my emails, etc. You are squeezing yourselves into my life history, my live story, being recorded daily, weekly, monthly and yearly, in a title to be revealed sometimes during or after my graduation (Inshallah): ‘Condemned To Go To School’!…”