King of the Camp

A little over a week ago I was crowned the king of Koro IDP camp, or the chief or czar or some kind of sovereign. The bracelet makers threw a party, an 8-hour sprawl of a party attended by the camp leader, the LC-I and the LC-III, and there they put a paper crown on my head and performed for me a traditional dance that is typically reserved for the swearing in of Acholi leaders.

Of course for me it was wholly overwhelming and unmerited. I'm only the latest iteration of Invisible Children's attempt to change their lives. The point is that it's working. Only three months ago these same people were complaining to me that they could not afford food and basic household necessities. Now they are throwing all-day parties with bountiful meals and crates of soda and beer.

Now, I don't for a moment believe that this party was about me. It was more about their ability to throw it. Under the auspices of, and I quote, "officially welcoming Mr. Lakica James to Koro-Abili IDP camp," the bracelet makers threw a party to celebrate their own renewed hope. It was an appreciation of Invisible Children, a celebration with each other, but most of all it was a tribute to the love and joy of people who have waited to long for a reason to show them.