[The following book excerpt is published to mark Southern Sudan’s independence on July 9, 2011]
From Kapoeta, I was traveling to Lauro and Chukudum in Eastern Equatoria, the southernmost part of Southern Sudan. Once considered an ungovernable border town between Budi and Kapoeta, Lauro used to be a market place. Residents had been pushed out in 1998, and in 1992, the northern Government of Sudan overtook the town until the SPLA reclaimed it in 2002. With the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement in January 2005, locals expected fifty thousand people to return to the Kapoeta region. Each day families and fragments of families returned.
In Chukudum, the situation was similar. “Cattle rustling continues,” said a leader, standing and pointing to his herd. He wore a brown string ring on his wedding finger and orange thread wound around his left arm. “Not the big raids like before, but thefts of single cattle.”
“We need government services,” said another, and added, “law and order, too, and mobility. We need the feeder roads to be opened so we can trade with other tribes.” “We need taxation,” said a man newly appointed to the government. “The community association is planning now for the next three years,” an older man said, “but we don’t know how the association will fit with the new government yet.”
Representatives from each level of the government—boma, payam, county, and region—attended the meeting. “The region is now called the state,” explained a young strong man neatly dressed in grey trousers and a T-shirt. “During the war it was a centralized government system, but now communities are more involved in decisions. Currently we’re still raising the awareness of villagers to inform them that there is a new government in the south. It’ll take time,” he said. “Some militia men are now in government and there are no checks and balances so we don’t know who to trust yet.”
A government official in his thirties stood close to me and whispered, “Peace is fragile. Individuals can become disgruntled at any time, at any moment. The new government needs to act. Peace has come, but people have high expectations, differing expectations. Guns are too accessible here. The guns come across the borders. We have many community groups now, but they are disorganized. The government needs to tell us what to do and we need to tell them what we need.”
“If tribes continue to fight, would it affect the north-south peace agreement,” I asked.
“What good is peace if tribes still fight? Everyone must work in partnership, you understand?”
In Torit, the state capital of Eastern Equatoria, I met the Eastern Equatorian Governor, employed by the Government of Southern Sudan. He talked of peace meetings that brought many tribes together. The largest gathering was a fourteen-day conference that he pronounced successful. “It was the first forum for interaction and the exchange of ideas,” he said softly. We sat in his sparse office, devoid of furniture except a table and as many chairs as he could cram into the limited space. “I must admit that I was scared at first. I thought that if I traveled to another village to tell them of the conference, people would attack me. I sent five people to each of the neighboring fourteen villages to spread word of the event. Not one person was attacked. Nothing bad happened when people went from village to village. Trust was created. The conference happened and it was successful, but not all of the resolutions have been implemented yet,” he said. “Now we have unqualified people in the government, and they need administrative training. Some people have never had a job before. I see my role as trying to strengthen the government system, including police and courts. Transition takes time. It’s a cumulative process. We need a police presence to prevent crime in the first place. Customary laws won’t stop cattle rustling. We also need disarmament across the state so that one group is not left vulnerable.”
He was a keen talker, and I interrupted to ask about women’s representation in the government. “In Eastern Equatoria we already have more than twenty-five percent representation at the state level. Cultural practices have inhibited the education of women, so qualified females are few. Now I encourage families to send girls to school and women to upgrade their skills in remedial courses. We need more activities for youth, especially in rural areas. They need to go to school or they create trouble. They get bored easily. We need a network of youth organizations, for both boys and girls.”
Extract from “The Sudan Curse” by Martina Nicolls, available in hardcopy, softcover, and Kindle at amazon.com
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