The 19-day Journey on Foot (Part 3)

19 days walk: The return leg

By Philip Thon Aleu, Juba

(For those who read about my journey several months ago).

It was the first time in twelve years to return to Bor. I was older; twelve years than I left Bor in 1992. So all the villagers did not recognize my face and I have to keep introducing myself to every relatives I meet. I visited uncles, aunties, etc and between January 8th and Feb. 1st 2004, I had traveled between Baidit payam and Cuei-keer.

We embarked on the walk, going back to school on Feb. 3rd. This time, we were five. My colleague Mach Ayuen and Majok Mangok, Makuei Mayen were joined by another man I could remember as Mabior. After crossing the Nile River using a canoe to Gulyar (UN agencies call it Mingkaman right now after IDPs crossed from Bor in Dec. 2013 to that area), we had lunch and left at about 3pm facing the sun heat. By 11:30pm, reached a notorious place where local youths are pronged with robbers and we decided to sleep in the nearby bushes. At around 2am, we took the advantage of darkness and dashed through the village. The poor boys were deep asleep.

At about 4am, we were in a middle of the forest and the weather became so wild — extreme coldness. It was all the same — walking or sitting. It is one of those nights you won’t think of having somebody by you for any reason. Well, in the middle of that forest, those thoughts are weird.

At about 7am, we reached a cattle camp known as Kamooc. And remember in those days, human being were worse than beasts. But in this case, we had no alternative. We can’t just avoid them because need to recharge our batteries — I mean bellies. We had our flour. We were not fools to be empty handed. Tired and exhausted from long walks, we thought of requesting one of the girls from the cattle camp to cook for us but her dressing code scared us to death. We decided against hiring here. The men from the cattle camp joined us and engaged in an uncalled conversation. Here is how one man started:

Mabior: ‘My name is Mabior and my mother is from Bor. Where are you from?’

One of us: ‘We are Bor. Which section is your mother from?’

Mabior: ‘Which section are you from?’

One of us: ‘Four of us are from Ateet, Makuac payam and the…(interrupted).’

Mabior: ‘My mother is from people of Anyuat. You’re my uncles. I hope every one is doing well in Bor! By the way when will John Garang sign the peace we are hearing about?’

One of us: ‘We don’t know yet.’

Mabior: ‘I am asking because one of us can resume his usual work.’

(If you have ever traveled through this route, then you don’t have to ask what this man is referring to when he said “usual work”).

One of us: ‘You don’t have to resume your usual work because peace is just around the corner. In fact, I heard last night on radio that it will be this week or early next week.’

Having foiled his attempt to rob us of the small belongings by offering assurance that comprehensive peace agreement is around the corner, this man sat down and continued in his conservation in styles.

When our posho (Tearz A-un call it Uugali in Kenyan tongue) was ready, we asked him to help us get milk from the cattle camp. This was an opportunity, unknowingly, to trap us again. He hurriedly ran to the camp and returned with about five young men and women — each one holding a two litter container of milk. They placed their utensils down and waited for the pay. We ask how much each cup cost. They said twenty dinars (about twenty South Sudanese pound today). That would be about 100 dinars in total. We did not have that money. So we said we would buy only one tin to which our sellers vehemently refused. If you have read commerce, then you must shocked too.

“Ciek ke wuong ace dhuk nhiim,” one of them said — (milk from the cow cannot be returned).

These people thought we are not cattle keepers too. But we saw the writings on the wall. This was just an attempt to ignite a cruel and cause commotion to fight. We caught them off guard. We knew this strategy.

“We shall call you back after having eaten our lunch. So go back and we will come,” one of us told them and they went to the kraals.

We ate our food and decided to sell some cloths to them to be able to pay for the milk. We took some short-trousers to them. I and Majok were sent to convince the young men t buy our cloths.

Majok, a creative person, made a life-saving thought.

“Who is the strongest wrestler in this cattle camp,” he called out when we met the young men.

One of the identified himself and came forward. Majok handed him the short-trousers and asked him to try on. It was his size. He jumped up and down several times and the other men were excited how handsome he was in his brand new cloth. They asked us how much each cost. We said 40 dinars each…meaning 160 dinar for the four.

“We don’t have money right now,” the said.

“We can discuss that later. We are going to wait you in the shade and after your lunch, please join us there,” Majok said and we left.

For your information, that was our last meeting with those guys. We left those useless cloths with them. If you think we’re cowards, then you don’t know how many people have been killed on those journeys robberies. By 3pm, we were 20 k away. At that point, another notorious place called ‘Mabior’ we met a gang. This time, we were not lucky enough and our of colleagues was caught. We tried to negotiated his release — of course standing about 20 meters way from each other, but the guys refused to let him with us for two hours. The condition being that we must first sit down, be searched and pay for ‘migration.’ We argued that we are not migrants because we are Sudanese and this is Sudan land. To them, we are from Bor and they are from Aliap….different nations.

At last, they took his blanket and some cash he had and released him.

We thanked God he wasn’t hurt but blamed him for not listening to our instructions. The rules were that no one should sit down when we meet strangers. He disobeyed the guidelines and paid for his mistaken.

We headed for another long journey to Tali — the same evening. By 11:30pm, on January 4th, 2004, we were in Tali.

The following day, we took a pick up car and reached Lui, currently in Munduri county (Western Equatoria state) by mid-night. On Feb. 6th, 2004, we reached Yei town and continued to Koboko, Uganda, on Feb. 7th, 2004 — five days after first academics term began and went back to school.

As for me, I did not to attend classes fully until March 21st, 2004 when I finally got school fees. I failed to get school fees in Bor and in my dairy notebook, I said it was “a long journey without gain.” Today, I should called it a successful trip because I managed to complete my senior four that year and I am a different person after that journey. Totally different before I embarked on walking for days. It has changed my understanding, thinking etc.