By ANNA BORZELLA
London Observer Service
April 03, 2000KAMPALA, Uganda - Among those who have watched the exhumation of former members of the now notorious Movement for the Restoration of the Ten Commandments of God cult is Fidelis Tibetumira, a 50-year-old farmer.
"It is God's plan that I am alive," he said. "I could have been killed with those people."
On March 17 at least 330 _ and perhaps as many as 500 _ cult members were burned to death at the sect's headquarters at Kanungu in a fire which was at first treated as mass suicide and then as murder. Some 389 bodies were found buried in the gardens and under the floors of three houses used by the sect.
Tibetumira joined the cult in 1989 soon after it was established by Credonia Mwerinde, who claimed to have visions of the Virgin Mary. The group was led by a wealthy Catholic businessman, Joseph Kibwetere, who was later referred to as "Jesus" by his followers.
Fidelis, who had grown disillusioned with the Catholic Church, sought out Credonia Mwerinde, who was then based in Kibwetere's house in the nearby Ntungamo district. He was impressed by what he heard: a pledge to renew the Ten Commandments.
Life in the commune was austere. Members were not allowed to speak. "We were told we should listen to what was coming from heaven, and we would not hear if we talked," one said.
They lived a strictly regimented life. They rose at six, dug all morning in the garden and divided the afternoon between praying and having religious instruction until evening. Food and sleep were in short supply. Children were forbidden to go to school, modern medicine was strongly discouraged and followers were urged to sell their property and give the money to the cult.
There was a strict hierarchy, with divisions between the leaders, the 12 "apostles," and the followers. Credonia Mwerinde, who described herself as a former prostitute, was the spiritual leader. She would retreat to her room to receive messages from Mary, communicating only in notes. She warned that the world was about to end, but said her followers would enter an ark and be saved.
In 1991, Kibwetere's family _ frustrated that he was selling off property, withdrawing his children from school and mistreating his wife _ evicted the cult, which by then had 200 members .
Some of the group moved to Credonia Mwerinde's home in Kanungu _ later to be called the new Jerusalem (Ugandans were the "new children of Israel"). Fidelis, however, moved to Rugazi, where Father Kataribabo, one of the "apostles," was the Catholic parish priest.
Fidelis stayed in the group for one more year, but grew disenchanted. "Things were hard ... The children were not treated well. I left," he said.
A few months before he did so, he recruited to the sect Paulina Zikanga, 62, a mother of 10 children living in a village near Rugazi. He was her priest and she was impressed when cult members' prayers dispelled "bad spirits in my house which were making the children sick."
When the local Catholic bishop came to Rugazi and told Credonia Mwerinde to leave, and removed Father Dominic Kataribabo from his post as parish priest, she decided to remain with the movement. Part of the attraction was Father Dominic himself, a former rector of a nearby seminary with a degree from a California university.
From the moment Zikanga joined, there was pressure on her to sell her family property. Her husband refused, however, and as a result she occupied a lowly status in the cult. She never joined full-time, unlike many women who simply abandoned their husbands.
Local officials tried to ban the cult. Its leaders appealed to the district government headquarters and were given a license to preach. The group was also granted charitable status. Ugandan police are investigating claims that it had friends in high places.
Zikanga left the group in 1998. She was lucky. The sect, which had repeatedly predicted the end of the world, rescheduled it for the eve of the new millennium.
Ruth Asimwe, a teacher at the Rugazi primary school, said: "In December they dug a very big pit _ the one where the bodies were found. We heard they called it Noah's Ark.
"Of course when the end didn't come, we laughed at them. They were waiting for the end, and we were celebrating the New Year."
The cult leaders responded by once more rescheduling the end, this time for June. Then Father Dominic talked of yet another date, March 17, when Mary would lead all the followers to heaven.
Members from across western Uganda sold what was left of their belongings, and gathered at Kanungu. On March 17 at least 330 of the followers entered their church. There was an explosion _ believed to have been ignited by sulphuric acid bought by Father Dominic.
A few days later bodies started being found at the cult's compounds and buildings. Police suspect yet more are still to be unearthed.
Detectives still don't understand exactly why the killings took place. Speculation abounds: a financial scam, pressure on the cult to return members' property, a fanatical belief. The truth is that nobody yet knows. (Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service. For more Observer news go to http://www.guardian.co.uk/.)
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