[PADER DISTRICT, UGANDA]
“There are a few rules,” Mick says in thick Irish brogue, pulling me closer through a handshake. “One. You’re out here at your own risk. Two. If I give you an order, you do it immediately, no questions asked. Three. If the bomb goes ‘pear shaped’ and you photograph it, I reserve the right to veto.” I confirm with a nervous head nod. A childish grin spreads across Mick's face. “This is one big bomb,” he says. “It’s gonna make a hell of a bang.”
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