A big work a head for Mr. Governor of Eastern lakes state
6 min readBy Riak Marial Riak, Juba, South Sudan
April 3, 2017 (SSB) — Beyond the brown trees of Terekeka there is a small land, a land divided by many lakes, gifted with forestry and beauty. People were much terrified until the last call was heard to sweep away travail wanting to avail itself. It is now the adjustment, time for improvement.
As well put in place when we grab this metaphor from Dinka language that” dance nearer to your own land, your native land” is now a need for this country, a country divided by many lakes, Nile passing through it to sit and see the gleeful eyes of her citizen.
One morning when the sun was coming from its home and rouse over the mahogany trees of Easter lakes state a life was drawn in the middle of the sky, it was betterment appearing yellow in the sun disk and ululations coming from every streets, airport and the filthily freedom square that hope has finally come.
There were dances, women and girls beating highly their breasts, it was time for them they had thought, time to move to the sun but was baited, ululations turned sour and the whole state came to be prison-house, no cat would share the same house with rat as had the company of leader of this state here put it into his working precepts, oh I need not to mention that but would want to state how would this state be like British Columbia.
What does our state require from us?
- I and you who are living in this Free State must waive the iffy in our works; get on to the street for common lives and bridge the gap between living a poor life and a reared farmer’s life. We can build granaries in the village to take food to people not to attract people from the village to the suns in Yerul; we need to see into this veracity of complacency and dutifulness to breathe our last betterment for our state. We need to work hard to overcome this anxiety and strains of living to a nearby apathy’s tree, committing ourselves to the goal of farming and relieves ourselves from uncertainties. We are left beguiled by the novelty of men and some procuring opinions we negotiate all the time, instead of the utility to own. We are left to see the lights of richness and paradoxes of fallacy instead of sound conscience. As the proverb goes that “old shoes will serve the master well than his valet will do” and I say if we could be within our own vicinity of fancying agriculture then we would make a good state.
- It is now responsibility of eastern lakes governor to see whether accommodation will groom betterment for the society. It will be very good that Mr. Governor Work closely with people of younger age then himself could have. I have seen problems concerning accommodation as I would like to point out from one of Jonathan Swifter’s travels, consider strulbrugs. Jonathan Swifter describes a mythical land where from time to time a “Struldbrugs” were born and circular above infants eyebrows was infallible sign that the person would never die, one might think that such a birth would be a cause for rejoice, but it provoked universal consternation, instead for although struldbrugs were immortal, they were not immune from all the worst infirmities of extreme old age. After the age of thirty they became progressively more melancholic and dejected. By eighty they were opinionated, morose, peevish, covetous, vain, talkative, incapable of friendship and dead to all natural affection, they had little or no memory. The most fortunate among them all were those who remember nothing at all. At ninety they lost their teeth, their hair and the taste for food, so that all they ate or drank was without relish. In addition to the usual deformities of serenity, they acquired additional ones as their age began to be measured in centuries. In spite of all this they went living forever, to make matters worse struldbrugs were unable to cope with changes in language so that after a couple of hundred years they became strangers in a foreign land, unable to carry on conversation with anyone. Mr. Governor must read closely his comrades if they would still be in contention for the appealing life, that one direly needed in the state. It will be very good, in fact far better when you chose from people wanting the better society for the future generations.
- It is now time for governor to look and draw his state into a small world, simple consider Yerul as on its own. There is vast land in Yerul, peaceful people and rivers, lakes which for time being will give resources to the government. The issue of taxation needs Mr. Governor to give a proper discourse for the community to understand it better, we have been suffering a phobia since the start of the world, leaders of our own states thought grabbing community’s properties is what their leadership meant for but failed to know that some day they will come and sit together with this community. The question is, how would one explain this when community up rise against you? Let consider Utopia in this set up and for Mr. Governor to fit himself in. The chief, and almost the only, business of the Syphogrants is to take care that no man may live idle, but that every one may follow his trade diligently; yet they do not wear themselves out with perpetual toil from morning to night, as if they were beasts of burden, which as it is indeed a heavy slavery, so it is everywhere the common course of life amongst all mechanics except the Utopians: but they, dividing the day and night into twenty-four hours, appoint six of these for work, three of which are before dinner and three after; they then sup, and at eight o’clock, counting from noon, go to bed and sleep eight hours: the rest of their time, besides that taken up in work, eating, and sleeping, is left to every man’s discretion; yet they are not to abuse that interval to luxury and idleness. Can we not see ourselves a successful state ever in this country? Mr. Governor must move on and know in mind that this state, the one we are proud of needs handsome work done to her and would want the collective responsibilities of all who are living in it.
Riak Marial Riak is a south Sudanese poet, writer and dramatist. He spends most of his time writing poems and articles. He can be reached at riakdeng23@gmail.com
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