Arrogance and war minded, the birthmarks on South Sudanese


Arrogance and war minded are the birthmarks of South Sudanese

Published 5/25/2016.

By: Abraham Daljang Maker Jr

You won’t realise how your house is messed up until you step aside! If you are a south Sudanese who has one day stepped out of the country, you must have heard some of these words.

 

After a few minutes of turbulence in the air which would rearrange your intestines and make your bowel almost throw in the towel in despair, the plane finally touched the ground at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. Behind the immigration desk in the arrival lounge, there was this face which I first mistook to be of a beautiful woman. But, gosh! It is a man, a beautiful man; describing him as a handsome man would be an underrated remark. With a cheerful smile, he stamped my passport and waved me off. At the exit door, this woman was holding a large placard in her hand with the inscription of my name in large letters; how on earth did she get my full name written correctly? Anyway, I extended my hand to greet her, and she held mine while telling me her name, which I immediately forgot as soon as she released my hand. She is a cab driver who was asked to pick me up from the airport, with a few stealthy glances at me, which I would see at the corner of my eyes; the driver broke the silence and started narrating how South Sudanese are all over the city. She explained how arrogant some of them are, especially her neighbours, who would turn small quarrels among the neighbourhood children into big fights involving adults. “Your people are so rude; some of them here would start fighting with natives, not knowing they are in a foreign land,” she asserted. I was tongue-tied; all I did was gazed into the blank space like a goat lost in thinking where and when to munch a few blades of grass. What occupied my mind was the famous dictum which says that “a cock cannot crow in the neighbour’s house”, but these hens and cocks are crowing loudly in their neighbour’s house, which I think is a wrong idea.

 

As I said, the mess in your house won’t be visible until you leave. Yet, here I am, seeing how messy my country looks outside. Every time I interact with Europeans, Asians, Americans, Australians, and Africans, I would see empathy and contemptuous faces whenever I tell them that I am from South Sudan. Some would say they are sorry about what happened in my country and to my people, while others would ask me why we were fighting again after the separation. Some of them sympathise genuinely, while others do it for the sake of doing it. This has made me develop a defensive mechanism so that whenever I meet with people, I involuntarily introduce myself and immediately start explaining to them that the war is over. The peace now prevails with the Transitional Government of Unity (TGONU) in place even when no one asked to explain. But I would see them saying, “Who cares about your TGONU when you have already messed up your lives and the country.” They don’t communicate it verbally, but I see it in their eyes; guilty conscience, huh?  So every moment that I approach a group of people, I would inwardly pray to God that no one should ask me where I come from. The more I pray, the more I will be asked, and the more I try to explain about peace.

 

Another group with its view, the masses, often ask me odd questions. Unlike Uganda, where we are mostly called “Musudani,” this part of the world differs. Here you can be called Salva Kiir or Riek Machar. By the way, these two parts of the world have one thing in common, and they still don’t differentiate between SUDAN, SOUTH SUDAN AND SOUTHERN SUDAN, OR SUDANESE, AND SOUTHERN SUDANESE OR SOUTH SUDANESE. I also always bother myself to explain that Southern Sudan faded off since 9th July 2011, but because this won’t make any sense with this stench on our back, I can shrug it off and move away. One day, I was taken aback when someone who had gladly bought something from his shop asked me, “Are you Salva Kiir or Riak Machar?” I was surprised to hear the question because I had no physical features that would make him mistake me for either. I replied that I am neither of them, but they are my leaders; however, deep down in my gut, I was burning in the flame of anger because that was such a sarcastic question to ask, but in an attempt to suppress my anger and to prove to him that we are not arrogant and war minded creatures on this planet, I gave him a reckless smile and told him that the guys he mentioned have large shoes that I wouldn’t even fit in. in other words, they are leaders, and I am an ordinary member of society.

 

There is always this question which nags me a lot “why are you guys fighting each other?” sincerely, I always have no perfect answer for that because God knows in heaven that I have never fought anyone nor have I taken part in the war they are alluding to, but what else can I do? For the virtue of being a South Sudanese, I have birthmarks of arrogance and war minded on me. I would tell them that I have no slightest hint of why they have been fighting, and I have never participated in that war. Whenever this question pops up, the arrogance and war-minded birthmarks spirit in me rebels, making my pressure rise millions of times and miles above sea level, and gallons of adrenaline discharge into my blood vessels, and this heat pumps through my ears and by a brain that would make them erupt with volcanic lava that would burn the one who asks the question. Thanks to the Providence that the whole episode only takes one second, and when my pressure drops and the volcano eruption subsides, I would say, “God will heal my country, and you also pray for us.”

 

Despite all these, I have observed beautiful things here, including the courtesy and warmth I receive daily from the locals. Like in Uganda, a smiling face greets you with words like “Jebale ko Ssebo/Nyabo”, a Luganda word which means well done, Sir/Madam; even when you are not sure what they have done well, people say it to show love and respect. Here people would say Jambo! Mambo? Every time and it sounds sweet.  In this case, I always get confused; I would say the opposite to stay on the same truck whenever someone says, “Jambo! Mambo?” I would say Hello, I am fine. Instead of saying Jambo! And Puo Sana. And when they say Hello! How are you? I would switch to Puo Sana, thinking that they said Jambo! Mambo…

 

I enjoy my stay here,


Au revoir!


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