.
This may have something to do with it:
The Kitgum district houses hundreds of thousands of people displaced by Uganda's two-decade war with the feared rebel Lord's Resistance
Army.
Women are the sacrificial victims when things are going bad for the rest.
Hundreds of thousands of people displaced. Communities fractured. Normal hierarchy (probably male) humiliated, rendered impotent by twenty years of
war.
Makeshift camps constantly at the mercy of truckloads of drugged-out, gun-toting, power-mad, blood-soaked hooligans, some not even in their teens.
People constantly being shuffled around. Townships razed. No place to call home any more or crops to harvest. Everything gone to pot.
No regular schooling. No steady income or food supply. Total breakdown of the glue that holds communities together.
When this happens -- plus the fear, uncertainty, anger and grief -- people regress. They begin seeing 'portents' and omens in chicken dung. They
need someone to blame. Obviously they can't blame their enemies because their enemies are whipping their ass. Those who're supposed to have the
answers and solutions (the local 'big men')aren't going to blame each other because they need each other to sustain various illusions.
So who's low down on the totem-pole? Who can't defend themselves? Who don't have money to bribe their way out of it? Who will the rabble be
happy to sacrifice? Uh huh. Yep. Those wimmin.
So the rabble is able to vent its collective anger and feel powerful and in control for a moment or two by stoning, flogging and burning a few lowly,
'worthless' females. Ah yes. Feels good. See those flames? See the skin splitting? Hear the screams? Yeah man. We burned those witches good.
Cleared the air. Put us on top for a minute or two. Damn good.
Keeps the rest of the women under control. Keeps em scared. Teaches em to keep their damn mouths shut. Yakka yakka. Always bitchin.
Because as a rule, when everything goes to pot --- it's the women who hold what's left, together. The men go to bits. No fields. No tribal
councils. No authority. No kick-ass at all. They sit around in camps and have no direction.
It's the women, with children to feed, who get out and somehow manage to grab a handful of whatever's around, to make a meal. It's the women
(despite the rapes and murdered children and bashings) who become steadily even more strong. They bring forth life, they sustain life against
impossible odds and they protect life --- with their own bodies if that's the only weapon they have. Without trying, without even being aware of it
-- they become awesome. While the men feel more and more like eunuchs.
Killing a few of those women makes men feel more like men. The rest go along with it for the enjoyment, the spectacle, the momentary power, the sick
thrill.
Wherever there's poverty, lack of hope, impotence, threat -- you'll find women bearing the brunt, as always.
And the accusation of 'witch' has always been a standby. You don't have to prove they're witches. And there's no way they can prove they are
not witches. Easy peasy. Let the fun begin. You can blame 'witches' for anything at all. Which is especially handy when you have a lot of
problems and no solutions .... and desperately need to feel in control of something, anything, to prove to yourself you're still alive.
The next step down for communities that burn women for 'being witches', is baby-eating and baying at the moon.