[Malual Kon, Northern Bahr el-Ghazal, Southern Sudan 40°C] The gravel road between Malual Kon—where I’m now based—and the new Women’s Association Centre in Gok Machar village—where we are driving to—is long and mostly strait. It traverses a savannah-like landscape of grassland dotted with mango, palm, gwel, neem and other trees and shrubs. It’s now the dry season and the tall grasses are cut for covering the roofs of all the new tukuls (houses made with mud bricks and a grass covered roof) being build by the Internally displaced people (IDPs) that are returning to the south in great numbers. Some of the trees are without leaves but when the rain comes, the land will flood, the rivers swell and everything will come alive and multiply, including mosquitos.
Footpaths that weave over the land between the trees bring older girls to the pumps at recently drilled boreholes for the day’s water supply, lead young men to brick-making areas where the clay is abundant, and guide women to ever further places for gathering firewood.
We drive for two hours before reaching the village. The new road lies one metre above the landscape and leads into Southern Darfur if we continue northward from where we are going. Gok Machar just my be one of the fastest growing villages in the world. Since 2007, the village has grown by 500% its former population. Its new inhabitants have returned from the north of Sudan where they were displaced to during the 21-year conflict. It is now safe to return since the civil war ended with the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) in 2005. Up to 4.5 million IDPs and one million refugees are on the move back to their homeland and International Organization for Migration (IOM) is facilitating the return of some of them. The Governenment of Southern Sudan is facilitating others and some come on their own. Over 200,000 returnees have traveled to the south and resettled in their respective homelands since 2007. Most of the movement south happens when the roads are dry enough to accommodate their passage. The rainy season begins some time in April and ends toward the end of October. All roads are virtually impassable to large vehicles once the rains come.
Road construction suffers peculiar consequences when it encounters obstacles on its path ever forward. Tukul homes and trees sometimes stand directly where the road is planned when the bulldozers, dump trucks and graders arrive. Where the road reaches a tukul or a tree in its way, it often continues leaving them intac with a pile of dirt beside them, presumably to fill the gap once they are eventually removed. Here and there, the road constricts its width to accommodate the obstruction or it simply swerves around the house of tree before returning to its previous course. So while travelling along this road, we come across a house sitting in the lane we are using, immobile
Hey Dave – I’d be interested in reading your observations about their impressions of you – do you find people crowding around you? Are they happy to see you? Are people enthusiastic about telling their stories to you? Do you feel any animosity to the West?
Hi Rory,
I cannot speak for others and pretend toknow their impressions of me but I can relay a couple of anecdotes that may shed light on your questions.
In the past four days, I’ve been brought to villages to see the development projects that are being implemented by the International Organization for Migration (IOM), most of which are funded by CIDA.
These visits bring me to a variety of villages with a variety of needs, but all are in villages that have a returnee population higher than about 80%. What this means is that 80% of more of these people have returned to these villages since 2007.
The village I visited today had a rehabilitated borehole so they now have access to potable water. The previous borehole was damaged during the war so the water was no longer accesible. After visiting the borehole itself, I went to the village and met the chief and about 50 other people under the village tree. We met under the largest tree that provides the largest area of shade. The village is Baac (pronounced batch).
I was formerly invited under the tree to hear testimony from the villagers of their situation and of the changes they have had since the reparation of the borehole and its water pump.
I was told of stomach problems from the contaminated water of the pond they used to drimk from. I was told of children dying from sickness related to the pond water they drank. The same children that died on their way to the nearest hospital/clinic in the town of Aweil, about a two-hour drive away. Of course none of them have a vehicle so they went running in vain.
I filmed testimony under that tree today from about six different people, men and women. And I have testimony from three other villages where I visited new women’s centres. I have about 4 hours of testimony so far and I will be getting more. Once I get the time to edit some of the footage, I will be adding it to this site, so stay tuned.
To answer your questions: People do not generally crowd around me but they are interested in shaking my hand, which is a small part of a complex greeting ritual between Southern Sudanese. Men, women and children share in this ritual. Of course I am eager to shake hands with everyone. Most people look at me sceptically at first but once I offer them a smile, a nod and my outstretched hand, they tend to smile right back. But being driven around in a UN land cruiser witn an IOM flag waving in the wind, I feel somewhat distant from the people until I actually confront them face to face, away from the vehicle.
I have not experienced any animosity toward the west whatsoever but I have not been in northern Sudan or anywhere near Khartoum, where al-Bashir maintains a high level of support.
On another note, today after leaving the village of Baac, the chief stopped our vehicle and insisted we accept his offer. We tried to refuse, but we ended up loading the live goat into the back.
I am still taken by their offering!
dave !
Hey bro!
I too am touched by your offer…very moving! Just curious, though, what has become of the goat?
The landscape is incredible and the people are beautiful! You must be beside yourself most of the time. They too are fortunate to know you and am certain that you get them with your smile alone… looking forward to you showing me the Baac greeting ritual… no pressure! LOL!
Continue drinking your neem leave tea and being safe. Keep us updated. This is a wonderful trip to be taking along side you. Thank you! All is the same here……. no worries.
xoxoxoxo