My name is Jacob Deng. I am one of the Lost Boys of Sudan. I live in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

After 22 years of civil war, 15 of which I spent in the refugee system alone with no family, I was so looking forward to a country without war when Sudan split into two, giving birth to South Sudan in 2011.

The last few months, however, have cast a dark shadow over my heart. I find myself going through periods of anger, sorrow and confusion.

The recent civil unrest in South Sudan disturbs me deeply. I feel there was no need for this war, that all of the people of South Sudan have been let down by the leaders.

People were promised basic needs and services: clean water, shelter, roads and schools. This did not occur.

On the several occasions when I’ve returned to South Sudan from Canada, I recall noticing all too clearly how well things seemed to be going in the capital city, Juba. But as soon as I was a few kilometres outside Juba, I observed a distinct difference in living standards. It was as if the people of Juba were encapsulated in a bubble.

Pain is also generated in me from all of those who died hoping to see a united, prosperous and happy South Sudan. It is hard for me to think of a family that has not been touched by the loss of a loved one.

I find myself wondering why South Sudan is not honouring these 2.5 million who perished helping to create this new nation. I know they would grieve to see this nation now living in misery.

To help extend the Juba bubble to other areas in South Sudan, I have, during the past 10 years, contributed to nation building through an international development charity that I established. This charity has kept me in close contact with the people of South Sudan.

Because of this contact, I came to believe that the wounds of the South Sudanese would not heal simply by having an independent nation. There was still more work to be done on the ground among the tribes to end tensions and to build a nation in which we could see ourselves as one new group, with less emphasis on the individual tribes.

I shared my ideas with (the actor) George Clooney when I met him in South Sudan in 2011. I told him then that unless education comes quickly to South Sudan, the next breakout of violence would happen among the tribes in Jonglei state, the state in which my charity works.

Violence broke out there in 2012. Now it has spread over the entire country.

I often feel sad and powerless. I cannot believe that we are in this awful situation, a situation of our own making.

The 10,000 lost lives, the one million people who have been displaced, all since Dec 15. 2013, this was not supposed to happen. We are tearing down in days the progress we made during the last 10 years since the Comprehensive Peace Agreement was signed.

This is a big setback. Even my children ask: “What’s going on, Dad? Why are the people of South Sudan killing each other? I hope they don’t destroy the school you just built.”

As I write this, most of the people in South Sudan are hiding in the bush for safety. They have no clean water, shelter, security, medicine or food. Children are running on their own, separated from their parents.

The separation of families is something I suffered as one of the Lost Boys. I would never wish this on anyone.

I believe that some people have become inured to violence, having seen so much of it over the 22 years of civil war. But in the end, this violence makes everyone a loser because culture cannot flourish, security cannot be relied upon, families become separated and millions die needlessly.

Compounding the situation is the extremely high illiteracy rate, hitting 90 per cent in many parts of the country. In 2012, only 400 girls graduated high school in a population of 8.2 million. I can only imagine that such things are difficult for Canadians to really fathom.

Still, I believe in the saying of my mother: Wadeng! (Look to the future, it will be better.)

I will continue to do what I can to restore hope to the people of South Sudan. Because of the civil unrest, I am asking people to consider a donation for aid.

The people of South Sudan need basic resources like water, food and mosquito nets in order to survive. I know I am doing work that would make my mother proud.

This helps heal my heart, while directly impacting the most vulnerable people in South Sudan.

Every dollar raised for crisis relief will go to the people of South Sudan. Wadeng is a 100 per cent volunteer organization, so there are virtually no overhead expenses. The funds will get to the people who are facing starvation and dehydration. However, crisis relief is outside our approved mandate so we are unable to issue tax receipts for these donations.

All donations should indicate they are to be used for crisis relief. You can find out more about Wadeng at wadeng.org

Questions: I will be in South Sudan from April through August. One of my first tasks will be to connect with people from the community of Duk County, a chronically under-serviced area of South Sudan, who are now in Juba to get a better understanding of the current situation. Once the community is stabilized, I will work to get the goat farm and school operational.

Right now the area is not stable, so I will work in Juba to continue to develop relationships with other non-government agencies that are interested in working in the community. I will look for an opportunity to start classes in Juba for girls and boys of all tribes. This work will continue in the school we built in Duk Padiet once the situation is stable.

My personal life experience has offered lessons from which to learn. I know that if people do nothing, nothing will happen, no improvement will come. On a personal level, I know that I must respond to all the phone calls that I have received since Dec. 15, 2013.

These calls tell how people are now starving to death and asking me for my help. I cannot sit by and just watch any longer. I feel compelled to do something. By being there, I may be able to assist in making someone’s life even a little better. I have also come to realize that I cannot digest my food well, knowing there are others who have none.