By Matthew Green
The first thing I wondered was ‘who irons his shirts?’
When Joseph Kony stepped out of the jungle and into a clearing in eastern Congo, he looked almost debonair in his smartly-pressed white suit. A small army of pint-sized soldiers trailed behind him, hair tousled into dreadlocks, feet flopping in Wellington boots. One or two even cracked a grin, but Kony’s face was stone. An overlord in his forest kingdom, the rebel leader seemed unnerved by the sight of strangers.
That was in 2006. I became one of the few journalists to meet the founder of the Lord’s Resistance Army during one of his sallies from the bush to engage in an ultimately futile dance of peace talks with elders from his native northern Uganda.