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Prior to my trip to Uganda in 2017 I had seen a BBC News video about Akampene, most commonly known as Punishment Island. This small uninhabited island, located in the center of Lake Bunyonyi in the west of the country, was where unmarried pregnant girls from the local villages were taken and left to die for the shame they brought their families. Its horrifying backstory aside, when I was planning my trip around Uganda I knew I had to go there and see it for myself.

The tales of what happened on this scrap of land were not those of ancient legends used centuries ago to scare girls into abstinence, the island was actively used by the villagers until the 1940s. Back then young girls were not taught how to swim, so once abandoned on the island their only options were to succumb to the elements or drown attempting to escape.

My guide and I set out on the lake in the late morning as the night’s mist was still slowly lifting from across the still water. Along with a boat captain the three of us steadily rowed our canoe out across the water. Carved from the trunk of a single eucalyptus tree, the heavy boat sunk under our weight and its, leaving only a few centimeters of clearance against the cool water of the lake. Just as locals had done for hundreds of years, we steered the vessel through the passageways around other small land masses and on to our destination.

Rowing out across the lake, the small speck of land drawing nearer, it struck me how long it took to get there. From the village on the mainland it was at least 30 minutes, the trip made no easier by the sheer weight of the canoe and the power needed to navigate it. As my guide and the captain made small talk in their local dialect, I couldn’t help but think back to my youth as a young girl. I tried to imagine being awoken in the night, bound with rope by your own family, cold and scared, and forced into a canoe captained by your father, all the while knowing your destination. Maybe you knew the trip was coming, but just didn’t know when. Maybe you tried to keep your shame a secret, but gossip travels fast in small communities. But once on the boat there was no turning back. Would you scream and cry, begging your father for forgiveness? The lake was still silent, even in the late morning, the thought of terrified cries echoing off the hills of the many small islands in the lake, in the dark of night, still gives me chills.

“We’re here,” my guide said, snapping me back to reality. The heavy canoe squelched up against what could barely be considered a shoreline. Immediately it was clear that ‘island’ is a bit of a stretch of a definition and it was undoubtedly chosen, against all the other 29 landmasses, because of its complete lack of, well, anything. The island is a patch of swampland with some shrubs and one rickety tree which had several ominous-looking crows perched on it when we arrived. The reeds are taller now than they would have been when it was in use, but it doesn’t take a vivid imagination to picture what it would have been like. There is no solid land to speak of, so the mud and muck would squirt up between the barefoot toes of the reluctant new residents. Even as I walked around in hiking boots I would sink and squish into the sludge with every step.

Once deposited by their loved ones and left with no food or water there was not much more for these young women to do but await their fate. Sometimes there were several women there together, perhaps providing some much-needed comfort to one another, but other times girls were left completely alone. Alone and undoubtedly terrified.

It’s a grim tale, but thankfully it is thought not many women died on the island. Local fishermen who were often too poor to afford the high price of a virgin bride, would pass by the island periodically to scout their options. If a woman struck his fancy he would rescue her and the two would be married shortly after. In some cases, these unconventional couples went on to live long and happy lives together full of love. In fact, the woman profiled in the film I had seen spoke fondly of her late husband and the life they built together after her rescue.

It’s easy to say that society, both here and there, has changed significantly since then. However, it is a harrowing reminder that we still have a long way to go. As the fight for women’s rights continues to rage around the world, particularly in the United States where healthcare rights are being stripped away on what feels like a daily basis, it’s vital to tell the stories of those who came before us. Remember, Punishment Island was utilized so recently that some of the women who survived it are still alive today.

Now, many of you are likely asking what happened to the boys who got these girls pregnant? It takes two to tango, right? In a true testament to the patriarchy, these young men were thrown a celebratory party back home in their villages. And in small communities like these it would not be uncommon for the parents who left their daughters to die on the island to be in attendance at such a local festivity.

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