So, Lubanga has been found guilty. It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving fellow.

‘Who’s that?’ I hear you ask. He’s described as a ‘Congolese rebel leader’ but I think that’s too polite. I call him a wicked murdering scumbag cockroach – and that’s when I’m feeling magnanimous. He trained his men to kidnap, co-erce, terrify and torture children, forcing them to join his band as either child-soldiers or sex-slaves. Roll out the mill-stone!, I say. (In case you don’t get the reference, I’m quoting Jesus: “If anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him if a large millstone were hung around his neck and he were drowned at the bottom of the sea.”)

The sad thing is that Lubanga isn’t the first man to use child-soldiers, and it isn’t restricted to the Congo, but at least he’s the first to pay for it. I saw a World Vision documentary – I think it was in 2002 – about programs in Uganda that tried to rehabilitate former child-soldiers who had either escaped or been rescued. Hearing their stories, seeing the emotional, psychological and spiritual damage done to those children, broke my heart.

A couple of years ago, I reviewed Chris Abani’s  Song for Night. This is what I wrote:

This beautiful, disturbing, confronting novella is the story of a boy-soldier’s journey through a war-ravaged landscape, searching for his missing platoon. The boy, My Luck, cannot speak; his vocal chords were cut when he joined the mine-sweeping unit. This was supposed to ensure that when the children were blown up, their screams wouldn’t unsettle the others. But, My Luck tells us, “What they couldn’t know was that in the silence of our heads, the screams of those dying around us were louder than if they still had their voices.” (p.17)
            Due to the graphic content, Song for Night is best suited for mature teenagers and adults. The protagonist travels through a hellish nightmare, while losing his childhood innocence; forced to witness and take part in rape, dismemberment and murder. Yet, in the story there are also redeeming moments of kindness, affection and hope. It is one of the most powerful stories I have read in a long time.

When I came to write my own ‘child-soldier’ story, I knew I couldn’t write out of personal experience like Abani. And, being a white, middle-class urbanite, I didn’t know enough about the landscapes to write convincingly. I’d read an interview with Terry Pratchett, in which he said that he found it helpful to place his characters in a fanciful world (Discworld) and then he was free to deal with the big issues – racism, exploitation, ignorance, war – in a non-confrontational yet thought-provoking way. Hence my decision to place my characters in a fantasy world, with dragons and talking camels. I could concentrate on the characters and their emotional and physical journey, without worrying about getting ‘the facts’ right about their world. As it is a world of my own making, I’m the final authority on it.

I think I’ve done a reasonable job with it. My 12 year old reader loved it. My adult readers loved it (and, no, they’re not family members). The reader for the agent said back in November 2011 that she warmed immediately to the lead character and thought the writing was ‘strong’. She looked forward to reading it. I sent it off, according to submission guidelines. I got another email from her in January asking where it was. She works in a different office and obviously no-one thought to forward it. I sent it again and she said she’d read it ‘asap’. Obviously my idea of asap and her’s are two different matters. I’m still waiting. Come on lady! It’s topical, it’s a good read and I’m running out of life-time!

Meanwhile, I’m hoping and praying that Lubanga is the first of many to face justice for their wickedness.  Good on The Hague: more power to you!

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