OMUNGUBI, GULU DISTRICT, 11 January 2008 (IRIN) - I see the beginnings of real peace this time. Previously we had talks, but they were not serious. This will be different.

Some people said 'don't go back'. They were worried about the peace talks and said I'd die here, but I didn't believe them.

I listen to the local radio Mega FM all the time and the BBC. And the news is good. If there is a problem we will know quickly and if they do fail then I can go back the next day and be in the camp well before the rebels.

But I didn't want to go to one of these resettlement sites - they are just camps by another name. I'm not going to another camp - I refuse - enough of camps! I wanted to come back home to what's mine, so that's what I've done.

When I first came back all I could hear was the birds singing. So quiet, it was beautiful. I thought I was dreaming and started to cry.

I went to the place where I buried my father and prayed. And then I came back out here and started my job.

At first I hacked and burnt the bush. And I made charcoal to sell in the camp. With the money I bought a bicycle to take things to market and I paid for my eldest son's wife.

Then I started to dig with my eldest boys.

Now we have built three huts here. They are just simple huts, but when I have the money and the grass is good I will build better ones - 10 or more - enough for all the family.

Next, I'm planning to buy an ox for ploughing. We used to have some oxen, but the Karamojong, the neighbouring pastoralists, came and stole them in 1996. I had 80 cows.

Today I'm digging here and planting the beans. In August we will be planting sim-sim [used to make oil] and groundnuts.

It's very good to be eating the old Acholi food. It's tasty and with the greens and groundnuts it makes you strong for the fields.

Why wait for four or five mugs of beans [of food aid]? I want to do my own thing.

Some [people] have become lazy and drunk in the camp. They start drinking at sunrise and they don't finish until sunset. Unless they are returned by force, some of those lazy people will not go back to the village.

Yesterday I went to the camp to tell my brothers to come back and they agreed. They are just waiting for the grass.

I told my brothers not to waste time waiting for food like birds. A bird cannot dig, but we are not birds, we are men.

I originally left here in 1994. We were suddenly woken by gunfire as the rebels came in the middle of the night. It was terrifying. They knocked down the door, dragged us out and beat us.

They beat me so badly that I Iost my teeth. Then they stabbed me with a knife in the top of my head. They showed no mercy and when they left they took two of my sons with them - Okuya, who was 13 at the time, and Okulu, who was just eight.

After they took the boys the government came and took us to the camp. I was happy to leave because after that we just wanted somewhere safe.

Until this day I don't know what happened to them. Are they alive, are they dead, will they come and walk out of the bush? That's the news that I wait to hear from Juba - what happened to my sons?

I was the last to leave the land and now I'm the first to come back. I'm proud of that.

Life in the camp was very difficult. Firstly, we were hungry. Then it spoiled the children. Girls became prostitutes or started having sex when they were too young - just nine years old. But it was also bad for the boys. They would roam around at night and go dancing. HIV/AIDS is the camp's curse. My fear was that my children would catch it, but thank God they haven't. That's why I left Acet as soon as I could.

I want to serve my children well as a father. I lost four of them in the camp to malaria and I thought 'I have to get them out of here'.

I have 13 remaining children and most of them are still in the camp, where they are going to school. In time they will join us here too and start a new life.

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