Living in a place of war...part 9. Final thoughts.

Living in a place of war...part 9. Final thoughts.

South Sudan was birthed in 2011. Such HOPE, that warm, beautiful day in July. It was truly one of the most amazing and inspiring days of my life. I was witness to the birth of a new nation. Tribes came together to rejoice over similarities, to forget about differences. To dream, to dance, to live with purpose.

WHAT HAPPENED!?

As stories ran, and twirled, and evolved all over town, it was clear that the man that died was a direct casualty of what appeared an ordered assassination coming from the top down. A government official shot at point blank by other government workers. Four others were wounded in the escapade.

As I moved around Mundri that day, it was obvious, yet again, that fear, with its snarling and menacing smile, had gripped the community.

(Fear, in my opinion, is at the basis of much of humanity’s actions. We, as Americans, try to shield ourselves from every possible fear we can. We buy car insurance, home insurance, life insurance, pet insurance, medical insurance, etc. Those may be good things, but at the root of them is the fear of something bad happening.)

The fighting changed the patterns of movement in the community. Stores closed early, no one moved at night, some people fled to the bush in fear of more fighting. As much as I longed form normalcy in what was to be my last week in South Sudan, it was not to be so. I had planned a celebration for the community on January 3, 2015, it was now December 29, 2014 – the day after the fighting. I had hoped to provide a communal way of me saying goodbye and thank you, as my term in South Sudan, with imminent departure, was to be on January 6 , 2015. A celebration with food, and dancing, and speeches, and even killing an entire cow! Now, I feared that it would have to be cancelled because of the fighting and insecurity. My local friends wisely said, “Wait and see”, when I asked if I should cancel my planned celebration.

The next few days saw very minimal sporadic gunfire, mostly a night. Everyone still on edge, but trying to move forward. Trying to rekindle the hope that was ignited on July 9, 2011. Trying, but faltering along the way. Yet somehow never entirely losing hope, even if it was just a flicker that remained. It never died. And I pray it never will.