South Sudan: Capturing the realities of now from behind
8 min readBy Majok Arol Dhieu, South Sudan
Friday, September 27, 2019 (PW) — In 1983, when the SPLA rebellion began, I was five years old. When I saw recruits passing by my present payam—Titagau, I would spat contemptuously on the floor with many thoughts in my mind that these people must not be having their fathers who can nurture them or shelters which can shields them from the scorching heat of the sun. Nonetheless, the war which Muormuor’s battalion praised with incredible range of victories’ songs we get to hear over radio SPLA, in Addis Ababa, to broadcast SPLM/A policy and news as if it will end for only two years, has instead taken two decades to come to an end.
On 22nd July 1999, I was frogmarched off from Lieny Upper Primary School to a local military base in Nyang—-now county. Sabino Mabor Aleng—-the then headmaster of the School, was the first among equals to follow me. On his arrival, he was lashed and arrested in an open thorns’ prison and after few minutes, a rain rained heavily. I decided to join him in spite of the rain because it was my cause that made him suffered to that extent. He was later released when the rain lasted and I whispered to him that he shouldn’t risk himself again to return to the barrack anymore because even staying with soldiers was tried and found wanting. He’d however not vetoed my opinion.
Two months later, six pupils from Lieny Upper Primary School were dragged to Yirol/Kentok military barrack. In military barrack, we all lost our good names. Instead, we’re called Musijidiin (recruits). Luckily enough, most of us who were taken from Lieny Upper Primary School knows, “this’s a dogˮ and “whose dog is this”, I mean, though our eyes weren’t full opened, at least we know how to define the surroundings. I was named a medical personal and ranked a recruit sergeant fisep (in line). Majur Lam, Mayen Koriom, Adel Majur, were made platoons’ sergeants—-a role that is rotated every three months.
We continued with military trainings and mostly lived in forests doing what they termed goutamal (toiled labor) in Arabic. At the same time, it was difficult, if not dangerous; to deny the developing sense of strange dominion of old soldiers which could hold the recruits in their clutches throughout the nights as much as sleeping was only luck. In light of this, many recruits deserted the barrack and some perished in the hands of cruel militant extremist who were assigned or intruded to train us.
We spent several months in Kentok feeding ourselves with a roughly cooked belila while our relatives’ houses were near to the extent that the crowing of their cocks and the barking of their dogs are within hearing of each other with military barrack, but who told you that recruits are treated humanely.
We’ve witnessed that SPLA Officers in-charge of recruitment, collect five cattle from each muceretdiin (deserters). Despite the hunger for relatives and village youths, we continued with our training in order to keep the materialist’s hands away from our fathers’ cattle. Many of the SPLA officers married their wives with wealth they obtained by a looting-like-criterion throughout the years of war. It’s today termed as a rampant corruption by economist.
Good of it, confiscated properties leaks under the fingers. It’s said that marijuana addict was given milk by the herders. When he sips it, a fly felt inside the container. He grasped it with his two fingers and put it in his mouth, absorbed milk out of fly’s body carefully and released it into the air and said, “You came dry, and you’ll returned dry.” Until today, many officers who feed their families with resources they looted from civilians are still dry.
By the turn of the millennium, the SPLA administration, Bahr El Gazal sector subsumed a multitude of recruits into the SPLA forces at picturesque village called Yinhkuel which was a military outpost in Bahr El Ghazal Region for a general training. We’re told in a parade to go back into our thatched tukuls and start off with immediate effect. In military, you cannot be told in advance, everything about this field is secret. Very bad field! I was having an appointment with someone, but aborted by this sudden journey. It was 15th of January 2000. I still remember this person on 15th of January every year. Was it her god’s parent that pushed me away?
We trekked for miles all the way into thick forests and small villages to reach Rumbek. A hungry walks we’ve never experienced before. In Rumbek at the present amanakuma (state secretariat), before we fully awaken, we heard high morale from the people who sang their songs in a very regrettable manner like us. If you examine Musijidiin morale minutely, you will realized in some of their songs that majority among them were only forced.
We’re told later that they’re Musijidiin from Malou-jec who’re coming to join us in order to go to Yinhkuel for final training. Mayen Koriom Dhuol and Majur Lam Atong who were our apananiin (artists) started our morale songs. Though we slept without food, we all forged our strengths in order not to let Yirol down.
After morale at around 10:00 am, Matur Chut who was the Area Commander (AC) by then came to us. We all sang good songs praising the names of members of the SPLA high command, and lie that, we are going to capture the military junta in Khartoum. Afterwards, he gave orders.
In the evening that day, we started off for Cueibet. People weren’t hostile by then, unlike today, where our own children are almost losing the meaning of kaman (guest) in Dinka language because of being use rarely, not only because of communal conflict, but because of civilization that we’ve cars which can bring travellers to-Tonj-to-Yirol in only three-hour journey. And also, we’ve got so many hotels and restaurants of which one would not bother himself to lodge in a relative house.
After two days trekking, we met five trucks at Maloupec and we embarked on them for Tonj and straight to Yinhkuel. There’s one bad thing with recruits, nobody would take attention about them or provide food anyhow except other soldiers or Civil & Military Administrators (CMAs) who know what a recruit mean.
We arrived at Yinhkuel in the midnight, and instead of providing food and rest for a while, we’re told to get up before 2:00 am for morning’s morale, I don’t know if there were people who slept that night. Later in the general morning parade, we’re instructed to clear a bit thickest forest around military outpost and put some roofs over our heads. You know, we did a mistake when we arrived. Some of us have used this place as an open latrine during the night. You can then guess how many drops in this open latrine if the recruit’s number is close to ten thousand already in Yinhkuel apart from us who came from Eastern Bar El Ghazal Region. An abomination! If our mothers would have seen it, they would have roasted Colonel John Garang for dragging their young children out of cocoons into darkness.
My reader, the idea of militarism had been set in much the same contours as it still holds to date. We all had to get up every morning at round 2:00 am to catch the sunrise while standing in hidaradakelia (pay high attention) to tutors who’ll lectures us about nothing.
We stayed there for five months doing military trainings and there were no sons and daughters of military commanders with us in the training camp. This has triggered an incontestable evidence of secretly contention between us and the commanders because their children were studying outside the country and the war was left to be fought only by farmers and their poor children in order for them to enjoy it later on when the dust settled. It was as if we were prophets to foreseen how South Sudan would be managed after independence. We owe a big thank to ourselves for being wise.
We hemmed and hawed for some days searching for the right means to combat the mistreatment in pretext of military training after we became dextrous soldiers. As our minds were seesawed between hope and despair, we made a secret meeting to discuss whether we should be continuing or branch off from military because the issue of education and premonitions of dangers in which I personally had had a presentiment of what might lie ahead was disturbing me. In the meeting, we concluded that military commanders are just grinding the faces of the poor, if not; their children would’ve been recruited into the military. I and my colleagues, based on the outcome of our carefully worded statements in secret meeting, without further ado, have evaded the military in June 2000.
We’re ambushed several times on the way and when we heard anything we aren’t familiar with; we would recoil in horror till we reached Yirol safely. We’re received back by our parents. Some reported back to military base and some have disappeared into the deep villages (me, included) opening another avenue for officers to loot our parents.
Today, the chances that arose in military are only occupied by the sons and daughters of Mr. General and his close relatives. Even the scholarship chances are also done in the touchstone of muormum (punishment before a case) without taking into account that those who go for scholarship are the only bright students. Later when the selected students on the basis of Mr. General’s powers dropped out of school for failing to pass exams, they would scapegoat the teachers in the country for not teaching children properly. Be informed that study goes with the willingness, ability and strengths of the learner.
Yours truly, the carted horse!
Majok Arol Dhieu is a South Sudanese residing in South Sudan and can be reached at email: majongaroldit@gmail.com
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