Weary Feet & Hopeful Eyes

What it means to be young in South Sudan Today?

February 2005. Under one of those mighty mango trees that dot the plains of South Sudan I sat. Waiting for a mango to fall. No one is allowed to pluck mangoes from the tree; you may only pick the mangoes that fall. No, I was waiting for the boys who were working at the nearby construction site to come back after their long lunch break. I wanted to pick a conversation with one or two of them, or if they did not know English, at least to say Cibaak! – that’s the local greeting. I have noticed that the boys of Rumbek relate to strangers very easily. So, language is no problem.

Then came my friend James Malouk. This was our second day of conversation. He wore a broad smile as usual. The Dinka value white teeth, I came to learn. Most of them are brushing their teeth all the while – when they are not eating mangoes, that is! Malouk’s eyes had a undeniable sense of hope. “We believe in John Garang”, he says, “we believe in peace!”

James Malouk is 20 years old, and is in Primary Six. He tells me he has reached Khartoum; he went to see his brother who works for the military in Khartoum. His brother might have been one of those fellows, who were at the many check posts on our way to the Airport that night, when I was in Khartoum last December, I thought! James had walked all the way from Rumbek to Wau via Tonj. That is a distance of over 200 kms. “It takes six days”, he says. And you stop in this village and that village. He mentioned names that I don’t now remember. Then he took a flight to Khartoum! He stayed there for two years, and retraced his steps back to Agangarial. That’s were his parents are. His feet have seen a lot of places.

People of South Sudan have really walked long distances during the war. Almost everyone I met in South Sudan has an exodus story to tell, especially those who are in now in Returnees’ Camp, who are also called the IDP- Internally Displaced People. Now that there is peace, will his brother come back from Khartoum? “No, he may get killed”, James says quickly but quietly. The Southerners are vary of those who ran away during the war, and especially of those who worked for Khartoum government.

“When are you going to get married James?”, I become inquisitive. Since I find James very sportive I can venture into that type of a question. “Not now, hey Abuna, no, no! I have two brothers, elder to me. I must help them find the cows, and then they will help me find the cows when I get married. Our uncles will also help us.” His father has only twenty cows, he said humbly! I really wonder, if the cows of the Dinka or the Karamajong or even the Masai, are they assets or liabilities. Simply put, if these cows are only used to sell the daughters and to buy the wives in the market of marriage, doesn’t this “wealth” become redundant? In spite of having 200 cows, if one does not have cash to get access to social amenities like food, clothing, shelter, education and medicine, are those 200 cows really an asset? On the other hand think of the cost of keeping these weak cows alive for nothing - the human labour and the amount of environmental havoc due to overgrazing.

After he finishes class 8, Master Malouk wants to study MV mechanics, so that he can repair cars. “Are the Abunas (priests) of Don Bosco going to open a technical school in Tonj?”, he asks. There is a lot of opportunity for carpenters and masons in Rumbek, since many construction works are underway. Rumbek is the temporary capital of South Sudan. “Why don’t you do a course in carpentry”, I try to tempt him. He doesn’t seem convinced, “I will do a course in MV mechanics and if I don’t get a job. I will work as a carpenter. No problem. And carpentry is not difficult.” This is the same sickness that I have come across in all the countries of Eastern Africa. MV mechanics has a magic spell on the boys. It is simply a dream come true. To be close to those foreign cars!

Now Malouk is on holidays. There is a lot of part time jobs available in Rumbek, especially for boys who know some English. NGO’s are pouring in. My friend though is selling soda in a joint owned by a Kenyan. He is being paid Ksh. 6000 per month. He is lucky! “No we were only paid Ksh. 3000 but Garang ordered them to raise the pay,” he adds.

Are all the youth lucky like Malouk? No, most parents don’t know why their children should go to school. After all, school is an invention of the industrial society. So in pastoralists’ societies it is still irrelevant. Many girls are forced into marriage while they are still in primary school (of course they are older than their East African counter parts). To avoid being forced into marriages for the sake of cows some of them run away with their boy friends.

After a few days I am in Tonj. Tonj was all set for development 20 years ago with its tens of wells and the schools – most wells now are the graves of the remains of dead soldiers, and the schools mere ruins. Tonj “town” is filled with drunkards and mad people, and most of them carrying guns! We visit a village on the way to Thiet, about 40 kms from Tonj. Half the crowd has literally have nothing to wear and they are starving. May be most of them have their cows in the cattle-camp! And peace has not meant anything to them yet. They have no strength to work in the shambas to prepare them for the rains. Or they have just given up cultivating the fertile soil. Why? It is uncharitable to say that the handouts from the churches and WFP have made them lazy! But may be also due to twenty years of anxiety - running away at the sound of the Antonovs, and their harvests being taken away by the soldiers!

In Thiet itself I visit a Teachers’ Training College – some of the students are mere kids, others are old, but most of them have finished only Primary 3 or 4. It is a two year training. The trainers are dedicated Sudanese, educated in Uganda. Is it the best way laying the foundations of primary education towards building South Sudan? Primary four dropouts becoming primary school teachers. “We are forced to take some of these students because they are brought here by the Commanders”, the Principal grumbles. Commanders are powerful people in South Sudan. They are the modern oppressors. Though they travel only on bicycles, you can’t miss them because they are followed by a body-guard on bicycle too. The Principal continues, “Besides, the educated youth from the refugee camps in Kakuma – Kenya or Arua – Uganda, are not motivated enough to come back to South Sudan. They are only interested in going abroad to U.S., Canada and Australia.” I admire the dedication of those “lecturers” in the Teachers Training College.

On our way back in the Thiet market I meet Santino. He smiles too. He is very modern in his mannerism. He is jumpy, and swings his shoulders as he walks. He greets me in Swahili. He also speaks English with an American accent. But Santino has never been to school, he is about 17 years old. Every other boy in Tonj area is called Santino. May be there was a missionary with that name. When I enquire about this to a nun, she says, “Yes, Santino is a common name; but every Santino is a little devil”. In any case, my friend Santino claims he is the driver of the SPLA. May be he was. When another boy tells him something in Dinka, Santino retorts, “F*** you, guy!” Santino, the little devil! So, the American “civilization” is already here! No doubt, Santino has watched the Rambo and the American Ninja. Yes, they are part of the entertainment offered by the Catholic Mission here! Before food, clothing and even education can reach Santino, Rambo has!

That evening back in Tonj, I meet another Santino. This one is a little angel. He is not that small though. He is over twenty. He is studying Senior Two in a school in Arua, Uganda. To his father, the cows are an asset. He gave Santino two cows to be sold so that he can get the money for the journey to Uganda and the school fees for Santino and his little brother. “Yes, I am lucky, my father understands the real value of cows. He understands too the value of education”, Santino smiles. He had to take the cows all the way to Wau. That’s two days walk to Wau, and thanks to Peace Accord, he could now make the walk in peace, though still avoiding landmines and some checkposts. Cows have better price in Wau, since the Arabs have the cash to buy!

Abuk’s father also is exceptional. Abuk (not her real name) and her sister had been helping their mum in brewing the local beer. Thanks to the Don Bosco Mission primary school in Tonj, they are able to go to school. Though Abuk’s father did not sell any cow, at least he has allowed his daughter to be educated by the Diocese of Rumbek. Abuk is now in Form II, in Rumbek Secondary. She is proud to be in a school where most of the educated people of South Sudan were once students, including John Garang. Abuk has a tough time resisting the luring suggestions of the Dinka boys. She is determined. No wonder, she has been selected by the diocese to go to Cologne, Germany, in August, for the World Youth Day. I am sure, in Germany, she will have a story to tell. The story of the miles that her feet have walked. And the story of the hope that her eyes now see.

Sahaya G. Selvam, SDB