South Sudanese have globally lost pride again

South Sudanese have globally lost pride again

By: Abraham Daljang Maker

KAMPALA: for the last two decades, south Sudanese who took refuge in different countries in the world have been moving with their heads lowered in shame. They have physically been tortured, emotionally disturbed and psychologically attacked by some individuals in hosting countries. This was inevitable because there is saying that “even a prince in a foreign land becomes an ordinary person.” As for my case, I did not live in concentration camp but I came to Uganda in 2003 to seek for better education as our education system was a total dwarf due to lack of qualified teachers and better educational facilities. However, I was not different from those in the concentration camps. I was just like any of them, I experienced the same physical, psychological and emotional abuses; all we could do was to swallow the pride and move on with the hope that one day our country will be back to its feet. The words that shall never leave my memory are “why don’t you go back to your country? “You good for nothing Sudanese, why don’t you study in your own country, you are parasites” etc… but the only we could do is to just keep quiet.

When the independent flag was hoisted on the ninth day of July 2011, the lost pride of most south Sudanese came back, a few months later; citizens were given national identity and passports. This was a great moment to all of us, as for me who had felt it and seen it all in last ten years; I was burning inside with a lot of pride and happiness. I would pull out my national Identity and proudly show it to whoever asks me why I am way from my country. With my hands in the pocket, I was able move in any restaurants, shops and other places without the fear of being booed. 

Prior to the 15 December 2013, I had told my colleagues that I would be traveling to my country for Christmas. It all felt good and they showered me with all the best wished. Before I could pack my personal luggage for the journey, I received a text message from my cousin who left for Juba before me. “Our country is in s terrible mess again my brother,” The text read. When I called him, I was greeted by the sounds of gunshot rocking Juba city, without any doubt, I know it is a real mess as he puts it. Alas!

 My pride is gone once again; I started to move with my heard bend. And in less than a month, there was an influx of refugees in the Uganda, and others are trapped in UN compounds, and thousand have dies. I received numerous phone calls from my colleagues to find out my whereabouts. Most of them called with empathy; meanwhile others called just to mock me. One of them called and asked me “haven’t you gone home? What are you waiting for, go and fight instead of taking refuge here and enjoy the good security.”  He was talking to me in sarcastic manner, sounded a friendly joke but the words were touching me where it hurts most. As he hanged up, I was wondering why he thinks I should go and fight, to fight who anyway. Deep inside me, I know that the fighting is a mere power struggle between those who want to climb the political seat using the iron fist and these who want to remain in power. So where do I fall here? I am not in power so that I can fight and maintain my position or am I interested to ascend the political ladder.  I am a simple peasant who has nothing to fight for or to protect; I am an ordinary citizen who lives on less than $1 a day just like those other citizens who are struggling for survival in UN compound. They (big Fish) are the ones who strife disturbs the peace and make us run a way, the point to emphasis here is the lost pride.  I cannot blame whoever teases me because I would not become a laughing stock again if my own “fathers” did not start fighting over the seat, dislodge me and erased my long-term build pride. I used to have hearty chat with motorcyclist riders, who have been interested to do business in my country after they have gained enough capital, but since that day when the fighting broke out, they turn against me with words like. “Why did you chase us away from your country and now you are taking refuge again?” what would you expect me to say? I just swallowed it and take it easy but inwardly, it pains like a pricking needle. Even before this political upheaval, we were still branded of being arrogant, harsh and war loving people on earth; any discussion in class about the hostility, South Sudanese would be given as number one example, anything to discuss about refuges and their effects on the host country, South Sudanese would be cited. All the negativity were associated with us and it was worsened when the foreign motor cyclist were banned in Juba. I took it upon myself to build good public image of me and my countrymen by telling everyone that we really good people, we are hospitable and polite but all these in most cases fall on a deaf ears of my mocking friends.  I sometimes feel like sobbing when people seem not to understand how good we are. 

It may take 2000 pages book to describe what many south Sudanese go through everyday wherever the war dispersed them and it may take other decades to build that spoil image. All we need to do is to remain humble and strive to build our country and the lost pride instead of rivaling for seats at this early morning hours, just two years down the road and we are in mess again with Thousands displace and thousands murdered. Lord,  bless South Sudan and restore our Image!!!!!!!!!!!!!