A few miles south west of Kampala, past the turn off to Buddo, lies a small wooded area a bit bigger than a football pitch. The field is surrounded by a trench, mostly about ten metres deep but with larger holes in places. The ground is well tended and a couple of small fires burn, one next to a tree another down in the ditch, where a young man, clasping a bottle sways drunkenly about , surrounded by spears and ...
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