Lifting the lid: Necessary Noise
By Yaak Jurkuch
Juba! Juba! Juba! Where do I begin? Well, let me break it down. It is the capital city of the youngest nation on planet earth, South Sudan or Southern Sudan depending on whose grammatical allegiances you keep between the His Excellency the President or the speaker. Open the last pages of the constitution of the Republic of South Sudan and you will know what I am talking about. Back to Juba, an old city to a new nation. Damn! Even the Bible refuses such combinations. it is like a new wine in an old wine bottle, the test is sure to be altered. Juba reeks of the same fate. I am not going to delve into the politics that goes on in this village because that is not my agenda today.
I am going to talk a bit about its unprecedented reputation, at least a bit of it. It is a hot, dusty and expensive place. In fact, some media house once referred to it as the most expensive village in the world. It is the only place where people spend more than they earn monthly and live comfortably. It is the only place youth play chess and cards day in day out and still eat and dress like kings. Only big cars traverse our roads. The other description no one wants to talk about is its tendency to be noisy. It is so noisy, even a new born baby has a headache. There is nowhere in Juba that is quiet, nowhere, not even in the graveyard!
So, the question is what causes the noise? Before you throw in your two pence, let me tell you what it is not. It is not the cars, it is not your Chinese phone, it isn’t the plumbers either and the market place is exempted from this vice because that is where it belongs. Yes, you guessed it; it is the necessary noise. Generators. With an average temperature of 33 degrees Celsius heating up everything and everyone in Juba, a generator is the only way out. Any politician worth his salt has a noise maker in his house. Some business men have it. Even a good thief has one. Unfortunately, I don’t own one. For an obvious reason, I am none of the above. I belong in the majority. The population of Juba is estimated at approximately 380,000. About 10 percent of this owns a generator, shared or otherwise. If my mathematics is still intact, this translates to 38,000 people. Now you agree with me when I say I belong to the majority. Yes, the ones who have accepted to bear the brunt of having to sleep in a hot, noisy house; hot because there is no fan and noisy because the neighbour’s generator simply can’t go off. He is a good thief.
On the flip side, nothing bar breathing can be done without this loud gadget. I called it necessary noise before, remember? From hospitals to banks, from hotels to government offices. Everywhere you go, there is a generator. The noise is simply deafening and it won’t be wished away in a hurry, an act that hinges on sheer folly. The question is, for how long are we going to have it. A man can only take too much. Before I immerse myself in deep waters that are the confines of an argument, I may not finish, get me right first. I am not a politician and I loathe politics like a wife does to a non performing husband. I am just a concerned citizen who knows what drug to take when having a headache. Yes it is panadol and we would be better off buying food than the drug. Most of us are poor, but with a filthy rich neighbour who constantly fails to realize that his gadget is loud. Sleeping on an empty stomach alone is hard; giving it a sound track only serves to make it untenable if I am to be polite.
However much you try to sleep, it only gets worse, even the circadian rhythm fails here, your neighbour won’t allow it. Not when the government’s light is not here. Speaking of which, where is the government’s electricity? When will we ever enjoy it? Or rather, whose house does it light? And please do not give me that ‘Young Nation’s’ excuse. We have said it for 7 years. A child at 7 years has not only learnt how to run but has started to lose the milk teeth, starting with the molars. In fact, this child here has serious canines that spring to action any time food passes by. Take away its playing toy and you will be bitten. Let’s pray that this baby child does not suffer what English refers to as arrested development because it is dangerous, it kills. It is time for us to determine how much necessary noise we can take, how much panadol we can buy, how much poorer we will get, how much hungry we shall become. If I forgot to say it, then it is called freedom of speech, I am just lifting the lid.
The author is a South Sudanese based in Juba. Send comments to peteryaak@rocketmail.com
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