What it means to Watch your parents being killed

My name is Aloet* and I am a student at Bukoli College, Budaka, District. Last year, on April 22, at about 8am, we were digging in the garden when we noticed a herd of cattle heading towards us.
The herd was destroying our maize. When we tried to chase the cattle away, we noticed that the owners were intentionally directing them towards us.
We found this odd. The men and their herd were just a stone throw away from us, and we could clearly see their faces, kept marching forward.
In panic we threatened to call the police, but they laughed us off saying, “Today, prepare to say your final words because you are all going to die.”
In a flash, the men, who were about five in number, were standing in front of us. They pulled out machetes and immediately cut my uncle.
We were surrounded so we had no choice but to stay and watch as they chopped my uncle, mother and sister to pieces.
My uncle was brutally cut in the head, on the left side of his face, his arms and legs. I still remember watching him bleed to death.
Frightened, I watched as the men descended on my mother and butchered her. I remember them saying, “Today we have come to finish off your entire family.” When my mother fell to the ground, they started cutting my sister. Not even her screams could deter them.
Realising I was next, I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. I guess this was unexpected so the men did not pursue me.
After a while, I returned to the garden to help whoever was still alive and that is when I got uncle’s phone and made a call to the police.
The first call I made was to Budaka police post where I was told me to call Bukuli police post.
When I finally got through, an officer on the other end of the line, promised they would send help immediately.
As I waited, I could not help but weep at what the men had done to my family.
My uncle, God rest his soul, who was like a father to me was lying on the ground soaked in his blood. He was no more and yet the killers seemed determined to ensure that the whole family was wiped out.
As I sat under the scorching sun for what seemed like half the day, help finally came.
My mother and sister who were still lying helpless on the ground were finally then taken to hospital.
Unfortunately I lost my mother three days later. I comforted myself because at least my sister was alive although still in critical condition.
A week later, my sister was discharged but her hands were paralyzed due to the deep cuts.
Although this matter was reported to the police, nothing much has been done. We live in fear because the men were determined to wipe out our entire family.
My sister and I had to run away from home for our safety. We live with different relatives.
She went to Kampala while I kept alternating among relatives in Iganga. I have had to change schools because I was insecure.
I do not know why the men attacked us but I recall our late uncle telling us he believed he was being followed by strange men.
He said he did not know why this was happening. I do not know why I lost my parents and home just like that.
Life has never been the same and it breaks me every time I recall how brutally we were tortured, for no fault at all. Our lives, will never be the same again.

As told to Pauline Bangirana
*Real name concealed to protect victim’s identity