Those in Khartoum

After the elections last April and the Referendum in January, it felt like southern Sudan – and especially our area – went through a honeymoon period. There were high hopes, big dreams, and smiling faces. Violence went down, petty crime decreased.  As we near the July 9^th independence day it seems in my (admittedly short-sighted, under-informed, and over-voiced) opinion that the honeymoon is over.

First, and most obviously, there is the fighting north of us, the recent clashes in Kordofan,  the take-over of Abyei, as well as the continuing blockade of food and fuel from the North to the South.

The thing that frustrates me about this is not just the violence, but also the stories that accompany this violence. In the last few months here in Lakes State there has been increased fighting; a sudden seemingly-renewed interest in revenge killings, in cattle rustling and in random acts of violence. This is Dinka on Dinka violence I speak of, intra-tribal conflict that is killing hundreds of people, and terrorizing countless more. But the rhetoric I hear, and read, is largely ignorant of this violence. It is mostly about the North, it’s about the Us vs. Them, the Arab vs. the African, the Muslim vs. the Christian. We like binaries, we like black and white. But in reality these binaries are only useful if we want to understand a small part of the story, and if we want to know where to point the finger of blame. Here in Rumbek people are upset about the intra-tribal conflict but they recognize the nuances. The discussions I hear (and far too often read) about the North-South issues are conspicuously nuance free.

I am sitting in my living room right now, taking a tea break from my working at home (still no fuel). I hear birds outside my window, at least four different kinds. I hear crickets and children playing. I hear men moving their cattle for grazing; the constant gentle encouragement which is reserved for those most prized of livestock. I am sipping my tea: lipton green tea with mint, packed in the UAE, purchased in the Rumbek market.  This is true. It is also true that my friend Deborah’s sister had a baby last night. A healthy boy named Dheng (which means rain – it was pouring for most of the day yesterday). It is true that a few weeks ago Nyantoc (who works for St. Monica’s) went to talk to a group of women from a different Dinka clan. She was told “you shouldn’t go, those people will slaughter you", she went anyway and was warmly welcomed.  It is true that Maria is 17 and arrestingly beautiful. Maria grew up in North Sudan, in Khartoum, and moved to Rumbek a few months ago. She is applying for university. When I was surprised and impressed that she had already finished secondary school one woman who also lived in Khartoum for many years said,  “Those in Khartoum they send their girls to school from when they are very small. They are not like us here, they are very good in that, those in Khartoum.” Our humanity is our nuance.