Safe?

I’m often asked if I feel safe in South Sudan. Well… yes and no. 

South Sudan seems much more orderly and peaceful every time I return. This time there was a noticeable increase in the presence of police on the streets and this has made a remarkable improvement to the traffic and has reduced the crime rate significantly. Aweil has a curfew at 11 pm and has tightened its laws on alcohol consumption and these have had a noticeable effect on law and order. 

While living conditions are still very basic, it is obvious that this is a country that is focussing on its future development rather than being totally absorbed in conflict. So as I go about my work there is no indication of any immediate threat to my safety. Mostly people are friendly, honest and respectful and I feel quite relaxed moving around on my own. 

However, that is only one side of the story… 

The country was at the point of war at the time I was due to enter, so that wasn’t a great start. I delayed my entry for a few weeks until both sides renewed their commitment to peace. But I had only been in Juba about a week and was making plans to travel to Aweil when there was a very fierce battle involving three SAF battalions supported by artillery, helicopter gunships and Antonev bombers moving into Aweil East which was defended by one SPLA battalion. Various parts of Northern Bahr Al Ghalel were bombed including Nyumlel where I stayed recently and a gunship circled Aweil. An SAF Antonev bomber was also identified flying over Juba. One of my friends offered to show me video of the battle in Aweil East. I declined, but the battle was described to me in very disturbing detail. 

In addition to the conflict with Sudan, internal conflict continues to be a great concern. A staff member from Australia wanted to visit Bor in Jonglei state – a region where thousands have died in recent inter-tribal cattle raids. There had been reconciliation meetings and disarmament and I was advised the region was considered safe to visit – but weeks later fighting erupted again. 

More locally again, many people carry guns and other weapons. I was drinking coffee at the hotel when people at a nearby table started to argue. One stood up, pulled a gun from his belt and pointed it at another man’s chest. People laughed and continued their conversations. 

In addition there have been snakes, floods, malaria and other mysterious diseases that cause numerous sudden deaths. Of the four Australians I met in Aweil this year, one died, one almost died and another was evacuated. 

So do I feel safe? Most of the time. I do my best to stay informed of the dangers and take every precaution possible. The harsh reality is that this is a country where thousands of innocent people still die unnecessarily. And that’s why we are here. This country needs the help of the international community. Its not Disneyland, but we can make a difference.

Getting A Receipt...

Today I asked one of our contractors for a receipt for the fund transfer he received from our office. He provided me with the following photographs. They are very convincing, but Im not sure what our book-keeper will say.

1 - The Money

2 - My Contact With The Money

3 - My Contact Handing The Money To The Contractor

4 - The Contractor With The Money

The best and the worst...

The reality of human suffering is something I observe on a daily basis here in South Sudan. But every so often I am confronted with blatant, indiscriminate, premeditated, inhumane violence that overwhelms me with a sickening revelation of the degree of hatred and evil which human beings are capable of inflicting upon each other.

Take the other day for example… 

I have a young friend in Australia who has established a charity to support the development of the hospital in her home town of Abyei. When one of my colleagues here in Awiel told me he would be visiting Abyei I loaned him a camera and asked him to give me some information. I thought he would visit the hospital, meet the Director and come back with a report of what Australians could do to support this town that has been caught in the middle of tribal, political and religious fighting. 

I knew the most recent round of fighting had hit the town of Abyei hard, but the report was worse than I imagined. The town has been destroyed. Again, but worse than before. Every house has been burned, every building ruined, every school, market, administration building, communication tower… Even the hospital has been destroyed with the roof and everything inside stolen. All that remains are walls that I am told are beyond repair. 

One building remains untouched, towering over the empty town as a symbol of the perceived moral superiority of the perpetrators. 

I find it hard to comprehend how one group of humans can be so dedicated to the extermination of another group of humans. And, as has happened throughout history, God is used as the justification for the most evil of human behaviour. 

God have mercy on us. 

Then, on the other side of the word, a young friend continues her work, waiting for the day when Abyei can be rebuilt, confident somehow that no matter how many times the village she loves is burned to the ground, her people will return and build it up again.

Floods...

Flooding in Aweil is not like the floods I have seen in Australia, or on the news from other parts of the world. There is no great river that breaks its banks, or walls of water gushing down from mountains sweeping away whatever is in its path. Flooding in Aweil occurs slowly, quietly, without any terror. But still devastating.

Aweil is very flat. After a big rain the water just lies where it fell. There are parts of town that are well know for being prone to flooding, but with tens of thousands returning from the north, even this land is needed for housing. Now, homes are collapsing and people are making temporary shelters on road sides. With the rains come mosquitos and with mosquitos comes malaria. This is now an epidemic and with food shortages many people are also vulnerable to other illnesses such as typhoid.

Even here in the prime location occupied by the UN my tent is completely surrounded by water. And frogs, snakes and mosquitos. While this is little more than an inconvenience, it helps me to appreciate the suffering of those whose lives are threatened by the latest in what must seem to be a never-ending series of challenges.

Going to the bank...

We had a problem with a fund-transfer this week. When we finally tracked the money, the bank manager and other staff explained in detail the reasons why they couldn't release the funds. Their explanations made sense and it seemed nothing could be done except to cancel the transaction and ask for the money to be sent again - costing us a lot of time and money and causing stress to the leaders of our program.

Just then I recognized Cecilia, Joseph's niece who works at the bank. We chatted about different members of the family and she made a phone call to let them know I was in Juba.

When the manager walked back in Cecilia told him excitedly "This is my uncle."

Now, I don’t exactly look like Cecilia’s uncle, but he shook my hand and said "Well, if he is your uncle we had better do something." He offered a solution on the spot and in less than a minute resolved our problem in a way I had just been told was impossible.

And that’s the way things work in South Sudan.

James' family in Juba...

James has very kindly offered for me to stay with him and his family in Juba. In addition to saving us a lot of money at South Sudan’s over-priced hotels, I get to enjoy their warm South Sudanese hospitality.

Let me introduce you to a few of the family…

Jacqueline "No-Need" Agiyo

Elario is James’ older brother. He has been blind for about 18 months and doesn’t leave the compound. I gave him one of the bananas provided for our afternoon tea yesterday and when he had finished he threw the peel in the direction he thought was over the roof. It missed me by a few centre metres causing everyone to laugh. He was very embarrassed. “Sorry kawaja. Sorry sorry kawaja.”

Brother number three is Lukudu. He also has impaired vision, thought to be from repeated exposure to artillery. For about 7 years the family thought Lukudu had been killed in the war. James even brought his wife and children to Australia. Then they discovered that miraculously he had survived and had been living in the bush. His wife and children haven’t yet had the chance to reunite.

Agiyo is the daughter of James’ eldest brother. She is the one who does most of the cooking and cleaning for us. Her parents lost four of their six children within a few months of birth. So when their next daughter was born and they were asked what her name would be they simply replied “Agiyo” meaning “no need”. And that became her name. I prefer to call her by her Christian name Jacqueline.

Despite their various hardships, this family has welcomed me into their homes and their lives and shown unending kindness.

Feeling At Home...

I attended a funeral today. I was the only white person in a crowd of about 500 people and 5000 flies. It was hot and humid and not a breath of wind. I didnt know the language let alone the songs, and I'd never met the man we were paying our respects to.
About a quarter of the way through the five hour event one of the speakers seemed to be addressing me. My friend James interpreted: "He is saying feel at home. Feel at home."
I smiled to myself and thought I would struggle to find a place more un-like home anywhere on God's good earth.
But surprisingly, and in a way I cant understand let alone explain, his words had their effect and I found myself feeling completely at home.
That is Sudanese hospitality.

The day has come...

About six months ago I made one of the craziest decisions of my life – I resigned from my job and commenced making plans to move to South Sudan. What was even crazier was that no-one except me seemed surprised! But my head was spinning as I came to terms with such a radical re-definition of my life.

Now, the day has come. In a few hours I will land in Juba and, if things go according to plan, will remain in the country for the next six months.

I admit to feeling a bit nervous about entering a country that has been on the verge of war. And in addition to security concerns the challenge of being away from family and friends for so long is daunting. Somehow this vulnerability makes me more dependent upon God and the community of supporters who vicariously share the journey.

A few days ago a friend shared this poem…

To Risk (By William Arthur Ward)

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool,

To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.

To reach out to another is to risk involvement,

To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.

To place your ideas and dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss.

To love is to risk not being loved in return,

To live is to risk dying,

To hope is to risk despair,

To try is to risk failure.

But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.

The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.

He may avoid suffering and sorrow,

But he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or live.

Chained by his servitude he is a slave who has forfeited all freedom.

Only a person who risks is free.

So here we go…

A Lesson on Grace...

I was walking the streets of Addis Ababa yesterday and got chatting with a man who happened to be going the same way. This is common in Ethiopia – people are generally very friendly and also quite curious about foreigners. I’ve also come to realise that some will do their research, knowing which hotel I’m staying at and will have a story prepared which is designed to get me to part with a small amount of cash.
Having learned that I am spending some time here in preparation for working in South Sudan the gentleman enlightened me with his philosophy – how some will travel to the other side of the world to give help and show kindness, while those living right there line up to kill each other.
I smiled at his simple summary of global politics – and his attempt to flatter me.
As the conversation progressed he told me about his sister Sarah who works in the laundry at the hotel where Im staying, and about his daughter who contracted malaria while in Bahir Dar recently. Would I give 150 Birr so he can buy her medication? I had my doubts about his story but gave him 50 Birr – about $2.50.
Back at the hotel the receptionist told me they don’t have any employees named Sarah and I found myself reflecting on the concept of grace - undeserved kindness.

The Power of Child Sponsorship...

With Mary Awien Bol

At the time we commenced the Emmanuel Children's Program in Marialbai I asked Paulino to prepare a budget for the ongoing running costs. He started with the cost of nutrition and calculated the monthly cost per child, which I then multiplied by the number of children. As we worked out the cost of education, health care and other basic requirements of the program I continued to use Paulino's method of breaking it down to the cost for each child.

I cant actually remember when I first had the idea of setting up a child sponsorship process to fund the program, but I know it was a very pragmatic decision - a simple strategy to raise the required finance to run the program.

Recently, as I travelled around Australia and met many sponsors for the first time, I came to appreciate a much more important aspect of sponsorship - the genuine bonds that can be formed between people who have never met in person.

I met several sponsors who, with tears or beaming smiles, described their delight at seeing the transformation of their child when they received the second year's photo.

One woman sincerely asked if she could adopt her sponsor child.

Many homes had the sponsorship card displayed alongside their family photos.

A few people told me they pray for their sponsored child every day.

The one encounter I remember most vividly was the friend who gave me a card and small gift to take for the girl her family sponsors.  With tears welling up she asked me "Please give her a cuddle... and tell her we love her."

For the children at Marialbai there is an equally tangible experience of love and belonging that comes through having a sponsor.

For more information about sponsoring children at Marialbai please go to the GMP South Sudan website.

Stepping out of my boat...

2012 is bringing new opportunities to strengthen and expand our work in South Sudan. It is both exciting and daunting – but first let me give a little bit of background…

I commenced in ministry at Magill Church of Christ in the eastern suburbs of Adelaide in 2003. Mid way through the following year I was asked if our church would sponsor a refugee family from Sudan. 

This was my first involvement with the Sudanese community, but within a few years I had developed a significant role amongst the Sudanese in Adelaide, including establishing the United Sudanese Fellowship, and then travelling to Sudan in 2008 to explore the possibility of commencing a mission partnership. My partner and friend throughout this work has been Rev Joseph Mawien.

Global Mission Partners was quick to approve a partnership with South Sudan and this provided access to the steadily growing support of Churches of Christ throughout Australia. And so, from a small start just a few years ago, we have been able to establish some very basic projects which are making a dramatic difference to some of the most vulnerable people in war-torn South Sudan.

Until now I have worked in a voluntary capacity as GMP’s Sudan Program Director. I have used my annual leave and long service leave to make the trips and my weekends and other spare time to coordinate the ongoing work.  In addition, I was privileged to have the opportunity to establish another mission partnership in Bangladesh. It became very evident that I couldn’t maintain this workload at the same time as having the challenging role of being Minister of a thriving church. So, a few months ago I informed the leaders of my church that I would resign and that I would be devoting my time to the missions in South Sudan and Bangladesh. Next Sunday will be my final service and farewell. There is a lot of grief in leaving, but God has opened a door of opportunity to do more in an area of great need.

While my plans aren’t concrete, I plan to leave in March and return in December, spending most of the year in South Sudan as well as some time in Bangladesh and a few short breaks in other places. The main goals will be to strengthen the work that has already been established and to explore some new proposals including two new regions – a program providing for orphans living on the streets of Nassir (Upper Nile State) and an integrated project that includes agriculture, community development and spiritual care in Lainya County (Central Equatoria). There are other projects to explore where we are already working in Northern Bahr Al Ghazal including a girl’s school in Aweil East, a clinic in Aweil North, and support for liberated slaves.

I am constantly amazed at what has grown from a simple decision to sponsor one family of refugees. Now I sense God calling me to sail out of my safe harbour to assist those whose need is greatest.

(Please send me an email if you would like to participate in this expanding mission.)

Photo: With Rev Joseph Mawien, his mother Adut and sister Achol. Aweil 2008

Akech... and countless others who have not been so fortunate

I first met Akech in August last year when she was only about two weeks old. Her mother had died in childbirth and her grandmother brought her to the opening day of the Emmanuel Children’s Centre at Marialbai asking if Akech could be included in the program along with the other 240 children who had lost parents. These decisions are made by the Program Coordinator Paulino Malou in consultation with the Chief and the rest of the management committee. They decided that Akech could be brought regularly to the program and would be given some milk and biscuits.

When I returned to Marialbai with a team in July this year I recognised the grandmother as she joined the children and staff in greeting us. She was holding a baby and I asked through an interpreter “Is this Akech?”. Her answer was simply to take the child and hand her to me. Akech snuggled in close for a few moments… and then began to scream. I handed her back to the grandma, and was amazed to see her put Akech on her breast. It is common here for surrogate mothers to breast-feed their fostered children, but in other cases it is comfort, rather than milk, which is being provided.

Akech has given me a personal insight into an issue which is prevalent in South Sudan. Infant and maternal mortality rates in South Sudan are amongst the highest in the world[1]. It is estimated that one in ten women die in childbirth.

We deliver birthing kits (provided by Zonta and the Birthing Kit Foundation of Australia), medical equipment, and desperately needed training to maternal health care workers in the region surrounding Aweil in an attempt to address the horrific number of deaths through childbirth. In fact Akech’s mother was a recipient of one of our birthing kits. Sadly that couldn’t help with the complications she experienced in labour. Miraculously Akech survived and motivates us to do more to assist those who have so little when it comes to maternal health care.

---

[1], The South Sudan head of UNFPA, Dragudi Buwa reported in 2007 that [maternal mortality] "Rates are actually at 2,030 per 100,000 births, the worst in the world."

Letters and Uniforms...

One of the tasks for my most recent visit to South Sudan was to deliver letters from sponsors and supporters to the children at Emmanuel Children's Centre, Marialbai. There is no postal service to South Sudan, so the only way to deliver these letters was in our luggage. Along with about 50kg of medical equipment and birthing kits we carried 5kg of letters - one for each of the 240 children. It might not be the most strategically useful package ever delivered to South Sudan, but for most of these children it was the first letter they had received and was a tangible expression of the love of supporters from Australia.

I had hoped to personally give each child their letter and take photos to show their sponsors and the other letter writers. In the end we didnt have time to do this so I gave the letters to Paulino Malou and asked that he give them to the children and explain how in Australia we do this to express our love to friends and family.


While our team was still there we agreed to supply uniforms to the students. After the school was registered earlier this year the Ministry of Education notified the Principal of the requirement to have a school uniform. Paulino discussed his preference of colours with myself and Ros Stafford-Green, in the end deciding on navy blue shorts and skirts with white shirts. I received the first photos of the children in uniform a few days ago and was very surprised to see the colour - lime green! I laughed. I am pretty sure I have never seen lime green school uniforms before. However I know how proud the children will be, and in a very real sense it gives them dignity in their community. Not only that... when the community see the children walking to and from school they will be reminded of supporters in Australia who are caring for the children of those who lost their lives in the long battle for freedom.

Income for the Emmanuel Children's Centre comes from child sponsorship. For more information please send me an email or download a brochure.


Photos
Delivering 240 letters to Paulino Malou
The children praying in their new uniforms

Bees - and other challenges...

A few weeks ago I visited a village in Aweil North County with my friend Pastor Angelo Atak to see the school he has started in his home village, and to learn about the church he has planted. After turning off the main road we drove through the bush for about half an hour on tracks made by cattle and bicycles. We passed herds of cattle and goats, crops of peanut, maize and sesame, and the occasional hut made of mud and grass.

As we approached the village I could see the children running to form lines and sing songs of welcome - about 150 children singing their hearts out! This is a school without classrooms. The classes meet under trees and the teachers provide education every day without a salary. I can see a few remnants of mud buildings which testify to previous attempts to provide shelter from the rain and heat. In the end the shady trees provide the most practical solution. I met with the teachers and community leaders in the school "office" which probably wont survive another rainy season. At the end of the speeches I was given a goat as a sign of appreciation for my visit. I thanked them but asked that it be given to the teachers instead. These are dedicated leaders working without pay and under difficult conditions because they believe the future generation deserves an education. Despite their best efforts the drop out rate is high - especially amongst the girls.

After the meeting I asked Angelo to show me where the church meets. We walked across the clearing and he pointed to a large shady tree. He said "We used to meet under that tree, but a swarm of bees came and drove us away, so now we meet under that tree over there."

We laughed about it, but I am inspired by my brother who has faced many obstacles, and still persists in meeting the needs of his community.

Photos (from top)

Children singing songs of welcome (office in the background)

Students in class under the tree

Pastor Angelo Atak pointing to the original church that is now home to a swarm of bees.

The new church tree

Beyond my hopes...

The progress of the Emmanuel Children’s Program at Marialbai has exceeded my hopes and expectations. When we commenced the nutrition program in September last year we met under a hastily constructed iron shelter and shared a very basic meal. I took the kids’ photos, met with the management committee, signed a partnership agreement and left. I keep in regular contact with the program coordinator, Pastor Paulino Malou, who keeps me informed of the program’s development, but I was still amazed at what I witnessed when I returned recently.

I was there with Ros Stafford-Green and Anna Anok who were working on our maternal health care project, and John Gilmore, Executive Director of Global Mission Partners on his first visit to South Sudan.

As our team approached in the Chief’s vehicle we could see the new brick walls of the feeding center, the borehole with hand-pump that has been installed and the brick toilet block behind. The children were meeting in class groups under trees – but when they saw us approach they quickly ran to a central space and formed a well organized choir. It is amazing how such small children can sing so loudly. As they sang their songs of welcome the teachers, cooks and other adults filed past to shake our hands. There were prayers and speeches and then more singing - but it was the excitement and joy of the children that made the greatest impression.

The Chief arranged a meeting with members of the community under a large shady tree and once again there were prayers and speeches. Each of the 240 children in the program has been assigned a caretaker, and the community as a whole takes active responsibility for these children who have lost their parents in the civil war.

A few days later Ros and I worked with the teachers to gather some personal information on each child, and I took a new set of photos. Many of the children’s faces shone with joy – a remarkable contrast to the somber photos from the previous year.

As a team we were impressed with the professionalism and organization of the teachers, the care of the staff, the leadership of Paulino, the involvement of the Chief and community and the property development. But more than anything else we were encouraged by the children themselves.

John’s comment summed it up: “This is a happy place!”

(Funding for this program is provided through child sponsorship. If you would like more information on sponsoring a child at Marialbai please follow this link)

Photos (from top)

The children singing songs of welcome

Speeches at the community meeting

Gathering personal information from each child with teachers

Mary's photo from last year

This year's photo of Mary