The Panekar of those Days: Reminiscing of Boys’ Life at the Dinka Cattle Camp in Yirol (Part 3)
Emmanuel Sunday de John
The Panekar of Those Days: From the Boy’s Perspective!
By Dr. Sunday de John, Mandera, Kenya
Wednesday, 29 June 2022 (PW) — It was in the year 1993, a few months following our return from Ethiopia, that I first visited Panekar. I travelled to Panekar from Madet where we settled after our return from Ethiopia on a tortuous route that took us a lengthy period, commencing in May 1991 to August 1993, when we first arrived at Agutran Village, which was densely populated by those who fled from Yirol following its capture by the then ruthless Seif El Ubur Khartoum’s Mujahideen.
Through the brainchild of Ustaz Athiaan Majak Malou and his wise colleagues in the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A), there was a spillover of Agutran’s inhabitants to Mapuordit, where a flourishing school was established in the later months courtesy of the Comboni Missionaries led by Fr. Joseph Pellerino and Fr. Michael D. Barton, among others, and under the stewardship of the then Apostolic Administrator of the Diocese of Rumbek, Caesar Mazzolari.
One of the main reasons for spilling over onto Mapuordit was the scarcity of water, as Agutran was overly populated and the few open wells there were overwhelmed. The only accessible functional handpump was rendered dysfunctional due to overuse, and thus, water insufficiency became an issue requiring a timely solution. This is especially true during the dry season when the rainwater is no longer available.
However, Mapuordit had a water point (a well) that was not in use. This opportunity was never let go by a shrewd teacher in the person of Athiaan Majak Malou, who in January 1992, following the breakdown of the only handpump at Agutran, mobilized and directed the Sudan Relief and Rehabilitation Association (SSRA) workers to clear and render useable the open well at Mapuordit, which through the efforts of the men and women of that time was eventually providing the internally displaced persons and the indigenous people with clean drinking water.
The pioneers of the move to Mapuordit led by Ustaz Athiaan Majak aka Akuemchol thought that it was wise to reduce Agutran’s population because Mapuordit was offering an alternative solution to the water scarcity.
This spillover was not only limited to Mapuordit, as it later spread to other areas such as Hooric, Rumachol, Kathier, Madet, Mabui, Pulethil, Mamer, and even Agany. I was a resident of Madet where largely the related families of Daniel Ayual Makoi, Bol Marial, Malual Reth Ayok, Maluk Wut, John Kuoi Gak and others were residing.
It was in Madet that I was picked up by my uncle Manoah James Mamol who was assigned as Panekar’s Civil and Military Administrator (CMA).
During those days, there were no means of transportation. Mobility was limited to mere trekking. There were no cars. There were no motorcycles and bicycles were of great scarcity, as one could only see a few, under the ownership of the humanitarian agencies.
There were about two missionary vehicles, and commander Daniel Ayual had an old Toyota Landcruiser or Land Rover 110, I can’t recall exactly what it was. The vehicle in question was at times our means of transport to Mapuordit because its driver, Majur Ali Malou, was never rude to us boys. The said vehicle was once referred to as the “smoking car” by Fr. Michael D. Barton, and he didn’t even want it to pass through the school playground.
CDR. Daniel Ayual also had a lorry, too old as well. This was the vehicle popularly known as Machar-Ajiek, I can’t recall the name of its driver but the officer in charge of its management was Thon Manyang Kueen the man I feared most as he used to cane me on disciplinary terms when I first met him in Kapoeta.
We didn’t have access to any of the said vehicles because they had minimal mobility due to apparent fuel shortage given that there were no established markets and authorities were only getting fuel from non-governmental organizations (NGOs) or rather, they bought it from storekeepers or drivers of the same who were then stealing it from their employers.
Another barrier was that of roads. The existing roads were impassable due to landmines and prolonged disuse brought about by the presence of the enemies that were laying ambushes and were indiscriminately killing people, including unsuspecting pedestrians.
Generally, the roads were not accessible due to war and its associated detrimental factors. To access Panekar then, a person travelling from Mapuordit or Agany or any of the places in that landscape would either trek through Pandit to Papul (known by its tallest palm tree, Agaap-Nyaweer or Agem-Nyaweer) then down to Wanh-lang or one would follow several of the winding paths to Pan-Ajiek.
The journey to Panekar from Madet started on one of the fine evenings, at the sunset, as temperatures were becoming cool. We walked to Pulethil where we slept at uncle Thon Abraham’s residence, and then we moved the following morning to Agany where we had a family meeting with uncle Kot James Mamol.
On the following day, we left Agany in the wee hours of the morning, around 3:00 am or so. This was to allow us to cover a long distance before sunrise and therefore beat the blazing heat that it generates and avoid the consequences of the heat, such as sunburn and thirst, among many of its dangers.
Conversely, despite some of the advantages enumerated above, there is always a risk associated with travelling at night. It is usually unsafe to walk in the thick forest at night for a number of reasons, including injuries that travellers may acquire by hitting themselves on the stumps of trees; or worse, the travellers may get pricked by thorns or even have their eyes gouged out.
The paths can be narrow, and the likelihood of travellers missing the right one is high. And should that happen, they can travel in the wrong direction, only to discover when it is too late that the path they are using is not taking them to their destination. Should anything of the sort happen, the journey would have been lengthened and the suffering doubled.
These risks are high, but the most extreme ones are that the travellers may get attacked by wild animals, mainly lions, leopards, and hyenas. But in our case, there was no reason for fear because my uncles (Manoah and Thon) and the bodyguard of uncle Thon were armed to the teeth, including with hand grenades, pistols, and a good stock of ammunition.
We were lucky as well because the journey was happening at a time when the moon was so bright, it was the phase of a full moon. Our night journey was rewarded, we arrived at a certain cattle camp very early in the morning. The elders were flocked to by those at the cattle camp as they talked to them on matters that were seemingly administrative.
We were welcomed by one of the youth leaders to their byre. He even proposed to slaughter at least a goat for our consumption as his important guests. This was turned down due to time constraints. We were in a frenzy.
Uncle Manoah was to beat time due to the fact that he was permitted for a period not longer than three weeks, and this was ticking off the clock. He had many other responsibilities that he left unattended for a couple of weeks, during which Panekar was under intense shelling directed by government forces in Yirol.
This was understood by the young men who were standing in groups in an attempt to persuade us as they were called upon by their leader who expressed his desire to entertain us as his guests at least for a day. After they were convinced, they persistently pleaded that, if we were not spending time with them, then we should at least drink milk. Their pleading was responded to positively, we accepted to drink the milk they gave us. In essence, we drank it and left. I didn’t joke with that as I took enough of it but that later resulted in diarrhea.
Usually, when one has not been consuming milk over a long period of time, the enzyme involved in milk digestion called lactase becomes dormant or inactive.
When one drinks milk, digestion doesn’t happen due to this reason and so the indigestible milk is acted upon by bacteria, it gets fermented and thus unfit to remain in the body and therefore it is expelled from the body through the process of defecation.
For purposes of clarity, defecation is a process of waste expulsion from the digestive tract via the anus. Language gurus, in an attempt to confuse their audience, may call this “poohing” or “whoopsie.” You can use those words too.
Due to diarrhea and in the exercise of my right to remain seated after responding to the call of nature, I had to jump off the path and hide behind the bushes from time to time due to this temporary lactose intolerance. Despite this discomfort, our journey proceeded as planned.
We arrived at Adwagga later, but with the apparent manifestation of travel fatigue. It was at Adwagga where we stopped briefly at uncle Thon’s byre and then to Hokciir in the following morning where we were given our first-class bull, Makur that I later named Pelnyin due to its curious character and we moved on to Burlual where we slept as our journey was brought to a transient halt by the remarkable exhaustion.
Uncle Majok Wecnyin was there, who welcomed us warmly and he honoured our arrival with the slaughter of a yearling or call it a young bull whose meat was exceptionally yummy.
We spent two days there to relieve the exhaustion while eating the meat like youth in a fattening season.
Burlual was lovely not because of the proper feeding affected by uncle Majok, rather being there invoked great memories.
I met an old man who was remarkably jovial, he spoke English with my uncles. He was so excited to later know me.
The elderly person in question is Arok Athieng. He knew me since 1988 as a notorious boy that used to get milk from his kraal at Theempiny where he used to keep his cows.
Our three milking cows were under his care, it was when Pilot Jurkuch Bol my young cousin was weaned and so I frequently go and bring home the milk.
On one of the fine days, I was attacked by young girls who also went there to get their milk, one being Zipporah A. Majongar and the other being Akuruai M. Akech (their true names withheld as I have not made an attempt to gain consent from them or their families).
On my way to Theempiny cattle camp, I met them by coincidence, I was walking in front of them with no suspicion or scorn, as I had no beep or a sort of quarrel with them before, but all of a sudden, they developed a negative attitude towards me.
They for reasons I don’t know became hostile to me right from Yirol airport, nevertheless, I didn’t respond as they expected.
I instead made the decision to ignore their disrespectful gestures directed at me. Despite that; they obstinately hurled words that were meant to anger me and perhaps drive me to fight them.
I refused to fight them in that I had never fought any girls before, I regarded that as unmanly. I had not been a fan of fighting or quarrels directed at relatives, friends, or acquaintances. I fight for the right reasons and with the case in question, there was no apparent reason at all that warranted such a level of hostility towards me.
While they were unalterably hellbent in pursuit of their desire to exchange blows with me, I opted to take off. I ran in an attempt to diffuse the ever-growing tension.
When I reached the cattle camp, I had to run into Baba Arok for safety, or rather, in avoidance of an impending fight. The girls were unrelenting, and Zipporah hit Baba Arok with a small stick. That infuriated him, and so he asked if I could fight back. I got the opportunity to play a notorious boy.
Nonetheless, I couldn’t catch Zipporah. She was so clever that she dodged me and then sneaked below the belly of a cow of a medium height nearby, and Akuruai who purported to be strong or who then perceived me as a weak boy, perhaps, emboldened by the fact that I ran as they chased me, jumped on my neck.
She wanted to wrestle me down. That didn’t happen. I steadied my body, and when she lifted my right thigh, I acted swiftly with a deadly bravura kind of wrestling skill, one of the many gifts of skills I am endowed with in my wrestling practice. This renowned style is Ateem/Dhool/Yidhool.
There she was, down flat, with blood gushing out of her forehead. Her head was hit by something on the ground when it dug deep into the mud. What hit her head beneath the mud was later found to be a hard stone. Arokdit laughed and said, “Jin be dhiau do, keer yiin ke kor yin ee ja yok. Dien yin a dhong thin ril reet, aciin ee thong yidhol”).
Loosely translated, why would you cry again? Have you not gotten what you wanted? Young boy, you are a strong little one. You just rendered her unconscious with your style of Yidhol. The skill I applied is called Ateem in the Ciec Community version of the Dinka language, and in the Apaak community version it is Yidhol, and the Reel refers to it as Dhool.
Sister Akuruai was lying in the pool of her own blood as I stood by, dumbfounded! I didn’t have the words to express myself. Arongdit was solid, he told me to get my milk and he will walk me home in case there were those that would attack me in retaliation.
As we mulled over the matter, Akuruai was raised from the ground by the bystanders. They promptly took her to Yirol town, where she was rushed to the hospital and later to the police station. Her case was documented, and I wasn’t arrested immediately due to my tender age. I was instead taken for interrogation, but I didn’t have the guts to express anything of importance as I was in tears non-stop.
Nevertheless, most of the eye-witnesses gave several of their attestations and Arokdit later gave a summary. The hospital officials had indicated in her hospital report, a timeline of three months for her treatment and recovery.
She was taken to a traditional bone expert (orthopedics surgeon) in the person of Makuei Marial who declared that her skull or calvarium had nine (9) cracks. This became the expert’s opinion, a ground on which the verdict was later premised on.
Following a lapse of three months, I was arraigned in court before the town court’s president. The Court President was Madong Jam. His bench asked the plaintiff to give her account of what transpired.
She spoke at length and the elders on her side, those of Mama Magutcien Anyaak (name withheld) were expressing wonderful interruptions that were in my favour. They devoured their own daughters with words of blame for why they opted to attack a relative. The young girls were sobbing with tears running down their cheeks as they were bashed by mothers around them for their decision to fight me.
I was later asked as to why I fought Akuruai, I then expressed with a brevity that she attacked me. She pursued me with a stick even before we arrived at the cattle camp, and her cousin eventually hit the elder. It infuriated me to fight her.
The witnesses gave testimonies all in my favour. The verdict was finally passed, and I was found guilty of beating up a girl. It was an act the court regarded as brutal because the young girl sustained a skull fracture.
According to the court, there was no justification for my beastly action. I was wrong. My action was brutal and I had to be penalized for it even when Mama Magutcien was protesting against the judgment following its announcement by the court’s authorities.
The verdict had it that I should pay nine cows broken down into eight heifers and a bull and a fine of twenty Sudanese pounds (the Nimeiri’s version) and three months’ prison term or pay its equivalence of fifteen Sudanese pounds.
This verdict, although considered by others as stern for a young boy who was only defending himself, stood as it was.
Despite the protests, the court refused to entertain further arguments as my representatives and I were whisked away by one of the court’s members, usually referred to as Beny-riel in local courts, so that the plaintiff could before him adduce evidence of the expenses incurred throughout the entire process, and I was asked if I spent anything so that he could balance the expenses, and should there be any outstanding balance, especially on the side of the plaintiff, he would ensure I am made to pay that too.
The court was cursed and accused of all sorts of vices; it was truly a biased court. The fracases and all the related noises didn’t help me.
I was being blamed for being heartless in that I hurt a young girl. The whole scene was like our relatives had agreed to blame us for our actions. On her parents’ side, Akuruai was called names and blamed for a fight. I was too hot in the hot soup. Nonetheless, the chunk of responsibility in terms of settlement of the court verdict was taken with ease by Baba Arok Athieng and Athieng Mamol my mother (auntie).
I was told later that the matter was handled with Arok Athieng taking the lion’s share as he paid six of the nine cows and the rest were settled by my immediate family.
As if this was the theme of my piece, I would like to walk the readers back to our journey to Panekar.
We left at Adwagga cattle camp the following morning. Arokdit walked with us in escort as he was sharing on few things with my uncles.
Although the journey was long, I didn’t suffer the much exhaustion I had before we docked temporarily at Adwagga, perhaps I was adapting well to the stresses and strains of a long walk or the courtesies rendered to us by our host gave me strength to withstand the journey’s enforced wear and tear.
Before long, we crossed to Toich and the first place we arrived at was Wuntiam, the land of Jielek community, my great uncles. We stopped there briefly and then moved on to Ijur-gai and down to Luit-goor and then we crossed the River.
We then trekked through several of Panekar’s suburbs until we reached Agei-nhom where the barrack was erected and that doubles as a residence of the CMA in charge.
This Agei-nhom is the place where the playground/freedom square is situated and is also the location for the only functioning school close by.
I didn’t like Agei-nhom at the first sight, I had to get used to it. I was later taken to that school by one Mayen Ayak, an officer that was among the forces commanded by my uncle.
I was well received by my beloved teachers, Ustaz Akech Igong and Ustaz Athorbei famously known as Gwajem. The two, among others, were the fulcrums that propelled Panekar Primary School to contribute to nation-building, with most of the young pupils of those days now taking part as an efficient workforce for the country.
However, Ustaz Gwajem used to torment us at some point. He once held a pupil hostage while demanding that we sing all the songs we knew. After exhausting singing, together with my strong companion of young boys, those of Machiek Nhial Makeny, we staged a revolution. Machiek took the role of a ringleader as we took off with a swift motion. In other words, we took off like a jet.
That opened the window for the escape of everybody. Ustaz Athorbei was not amused and we knew he was going to punish us on another day. Thank God, that didn’t happen. Perhaps he forgot or he was discouraged by other teachers.
I was placed in class two, the highest class of the time. This was done under the instruction of Ustaz Majur Adeng Madual, the then headmaster.
Majok Nhial Koriom Atuot was the class monitor. He quickly became my friend. He integrated me well into the school system. We were always cordial with him. Besides him, I made other friends quickly. I was a song composer, a singer who with notoriety composed songs that were used to mock some of our colleagues, whose names would perhaps be revealed here in the future with their permission. I can admit, that I bullied the majority of my colleagues in whichever school I had been to. At Panekar, it was my close friends and the big boys like Pudo Akolkuoi and Majok Nhial that were spared.
My adaptation to how things are done in Panekar was so rapid that I was moved to Lual-Itong, one of Panekar’s suburbs. This brought me closer to Majok Nhial and many of the great youngsters of Panekar. One is Machuei Arok Chadhuol whose way of life remains exemplary with his heart too accommodative and forgiving while exhibiting nationalistic traits. He was cordial in all matters. He was an ardent debater and a man who never envied a brother in any way.
At Lual Itong, our path to school became wider. Youngsters joined the school in huge numbers. I became known to most of them in my neighbourhood.
We walked on every school day sharing the same path and enjoying stories told by many of the then young pupils, among whom were Kuacreng Nhial, Akech Igai, Machiek Nhial Makeny, Machuer Anyuat and his young brother Alayaak Anyuat among many others.
Our walk to school was a routine that was never boring. It was lively as stories were told and the hope expressed was that they were propelling the young lads and lasses to great heights.
We exhibited true brotherly love. We didn’t know about discrimination. We were never inclined tribally. We were sons and daughters of the same family. We were known for loving each other, and it was like our family objectives were all about education.
The teachers at Panekar Primary School, like elsewhere in South Sudan, portrayed an impeccable resoluteness in the promotion of education. They were multitasking in that some of them, like Manoah James, Majak Yuol, Andrea Mayor Pawer and Athorbei, among others, were combatants who were teaching us without any pay or hope for it. Not only were they unsalaried dedicated educators, but they were also doing this alongside their duties as soldiers.
They planted in our young lives the seeds of zeal and patriotism. We grew closer to each other. We expressed the utmost respect and care as a basis of unity. Although we didn’t have many girls with us in school, Nyantet Manyang Machar and Ijur Majur Adeng were always treated with the utmost respect and care.
Teachers like Akech Igong were instrumental in our day-to-day learning, Ustaz Akech was never late or missed a day, even when he had personal matters to attend to. They made Panekar livable.
Besides learning in Panekar Primary School, it was the largest centre for social activities, as Agei-nhom itself offered a busy wrestling field. The likes of Machot Mading, Adut Pudo, Machuer Akok, Kuchlong Majak, Abiriu, Malou Majongar, Macheruo Kot Thon, Chapa Marial, Mathot Anhiem Gac, Achinbaai Agok Gac, Tuongaleu Imun, Mabor Koriom Biliude, Maluach Akolkuoi, Garang Gotic, Koom Manyiel, Butic Manyaar and hundreds of their counterparts had been showcasing their wrestling skills week in, week out.
The pupils of Panekar Primary School, inspired by the routine wrestling games, opted to make that part of their learning. On a daily basis, we wrestled among ourselves. Senior colleagues who had skills, the likes of Pudo Akolkuoi, Majok Nhial and others, taught us the art of wrestling.
Some of Panekar boys underwent my rigorous training as well. I trained a lot of youngsters but Machiek Nhial Makeny, Alayaak Anyuat, Gang Mathiang and Bilpam Madul were outstanding amongst their peers.
Panekar was a vivacious place despite hostilities directed at civilians by the Sudan Armed Forces (SAF) based in Yirol town. The Arabs in Yirol frequently attacked Panekar. They killed innocent civilians under the guidance of local traitors.
Despite attacks and shelling with heavy artilleries by the enemies, the residents of Panekar were enjoying life. Panekar is a village of modifiable life strategies.
It is an epitome of diversity as it is endowed with a mixture of loam and alluvial soils depending on which part of the area you are in.
Agriculture, fishing, livestock rearing, blacksmithing and hunting are some of the features that beautify Panekar.
Characteristically, Panekar whose ancient name is “Rorgou” is not only known for its high yields, it is also known for its beauty, with verdant sceneries seen throughout its environment.
Arable farming was lucrative, as reflected in the usual breakage of the barns. One can see the herd of cattle grazing in its bucolic landscape either along Lake Yirol, Both-both or Icholoth.
The thick forests nearby enrich Panekar with rains that were commencing even in March before the climatic change created a digress from what it truly was in the recent past.
Farming takes the central stage, and most of the produce from the farms is used for local consumption, and the surplus is expended in exchange for animals in a barter trade kind of it.
During the commencement of the harvest season, several sacraments are conducted and the inhabitants of Panekar remain jubilant throughout the year.
Panekar is a reflection of purity. It is an area where oxygen is emitted by trees as they bloom, and this creates a perfect environment for human flourishing. It is even more captivating when one walks along the river as the crisp winter wind whips through one’s neck and past the cheeks. This doesn’t negate the fact that, as one walks through the forest, the brisk forest air fills one’s lungs. This makes it even more wondrous.
What captivates most is that Panekar was diverse in its entire inhabitation. The Diverseness of Panekar is a product of coexistence.
The communities existed in mutual tolerance. As the communities interacted with a commitment to tolerance, mutual respect, and the agreement to settle conflicts without recourse to violence, the pillars of this were grounded in the teachings of the leaders and elders of the communities therein.
This leads me to acknowledge the influence and power wielded by spiritual leaders such as Majur Tok aka Aliapkuach, Mou Guenbooc, Amien Loi, Mayen Maker and even the peaceful Bolony Longbany aka Ahocdeer.
These were not the only people that made Panekar such a livable territory, there were others with a myriad of influences, including the spiritual leaders from Akuei, Kowic and Amethic. We cannot express the coexistence in Panekar and the neighbouring villages without mentioning the likes of Bol Kuol, Chuot Pam, Chok Mangar, Jongkuch Akech and others.
Like Majur Tok and company, the listed spiritual leaders were providing spiritual and moral guidance to the societies around them.
The Christian faith was also at the helm. Ustaz Maluach Mayor Magook was the champion who advanced Jesus’ teachings. He taught us songs and the Bible. His teaching contributed to the spiritual growth of the Panekar’s inhabitants.
There were no societal disintegrations. Theft was taboo. Sectional conflicts were minimal, with few if any aggravating factors. There were no greedy politicians and military commanders that invoked chaos through incitement so as to loot society.
Some of the champions of that village were the likes of Ayor Aliang, the then Queen of Kudegge.
Kudegge is one of the dances, a lower version of Bulpuony clad with Awaan. The lasses either use songs composed by youngsters for their bulls or composed their own.
While Kudegge dances are conducted at any time of the day, the ones championed by Ayor Aliang were always at night as the jovial ladies walked to the dance ground with their paths lit by the bright moonlight.
Although faced with enormous challenges that emanated from SAF based in Yirol, Panekar exhibited decisive resistivity in the face of calamities.
There was this shelling that nearly inflicted fear on the civilians. The Arabs shelled Panekar and its environment in a sustained manner. One of the missiles hit a residence in an area around Akuei killing and injuring others. One of the survivors who sustained fatal injuries is Mr Pultuot. There were no hospitals where such casualties could be medically cared for, but Uncle Manoah was so attached to his people that he did everything in his capacity to care for Pultuot and others until they fully recovered from their noxious injuries.
The night dances have their place at the helm of Panekar; they can be regarded as their pathognomonic features. Panekar is located on the opposite shore of Lake Yirol and can be referred to as its true azimuth.
To be continued!
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