South Sudan Blog 1: “It is our time.”

When I left South Sudan in 2007, Juba, the new republic’s capital, was the picture of what many reflect on as post-conflict. Roads that had not been maintained for as long as the civil war had raged, no electricity, no water, let alone schools and clinics. There were also camps for the myriad international workers, clambering to secure suitable property to call office and home. I left after two hard years, shattered, as was so typical of all who worked there at the time. So against this backdrop, why would I want to come back? Well aside from that perch I’m after, there’s an old saying locally that once you have drunk from the Nile you always come back. Not quite Speyside or Cognac eau de vie, I hasten to add, but a similar sentiment I think.

Friends from my non-government days have kept me posted on changes over the last few years. Some are actually in government now. On arrival, Juba International Airport was still chaotic, but at least this time I had to get a stamp in my passport and I also had to go through a curious form of customs. It was, indeed, change. Getting out of the airport and on the road, I was struck that it was actually a road.  I posted on my social network that day “Juba. RoSS. Tarmac. Wow!” And Juba really is a wow. Who would have imagined that a nascent state, emerging from decades of civil war, could mobilise such dramatic change in just four short years – albeit with external assistance.

There are now six 1,000 megawatt generators providing power (quite regular), piped water to large tracts of the town (quite clean), tarmac roads with pavement (quite smooth), solar street lamps (quite impressive), children making their way to school (quite purposefully), markets, bars, clubs and restaurants (quite bustling). Unbelievable and quite a bench-mark, if this really is the new republic’s bench-mark for how it wishes to continue. But I’m quite impressed regardless.

So will this change mature in to a stable state? That’s the million dollar question of course. On the one hand it’s possible to be optimistic. The Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM), back in the mid 1990’s, from their Secretariat HQ on the shores of Kenya’s Lake Naivasha, conceived their plan for local government, to be delivered once a political settlement with Khartoum brought peace. This is forward thinking stuff. At United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), to whom I am seconded, they have been supporting the development of local government since 2003; and the UK has supported much of that effort I might add. Laudable, particularly as it was a Brit that helped Khartoum and the SPLM forge the comprehensive peace in 2005.

Taking my other hand into consideration however, in our field of work, we all too often see civil war ending and a predatory state emerging. Huge promises are made, the state invariably fails its people, poverty deepens, the security apparatus strengthens – and not for the good of the people, but to sure up power – fear and distrust of government deepens and instability emerges. 

Is that the Republic of South Sudan’s future? Oligarchy is good word at this stage in their history, as is that age-old friend, greed. And this is one of the most resource rich countries in the world. There’s oil, gold, diamonds, an incredibly rich flora and fauna, you name it and South Sudan has it. This makes my hand tremble. We’ve seen it before in neighbouring Democratic Republic of Congo. Qui ca change and all that.

But then I meet a 27 year old Dinka man (all seven feet of him) who proudly informs that he has just finished primary school. I asked him why he went to school so late on and he simply replied, “It is our time.”