Juba Hash

Well it has been a long time coming but I finally got round to doing the Juba Hash. For those who are unaware of the Hash, it is a social running and socializing group with chapters in cities all over the world. Hashers often describe themselves as drinkers with a running problem.

Given the combination of much needed exercise, drinking and food, I felt this event is tailor-made for me!

Notices for Hash events are posted on Jubalicious – the online classifieds for Juba residents that advertise pretty much anything (within reason). I was in luck – the event I was going to attend was being hosted in a resort and business centre called Rock City – next to the Jebel hills and rocks. I mentioned the Jebel rocks in a previous post and that area is one of my favourite areas in Juba due to the pretty rock formations and gentle breeze. But is such a location ideal for running? I was about to find out.

I must’ve been very eager because I was one of the first to arrive. I found that the Has has its own initiation traditions that are all for laughs and nothing too harrowing. All first timers, such as myself, had to step up to the centre of a circle and introduce ourselves, tell everyone where we are from and why we are in Juba and what we hope to find. There was one caveat – work is a 4 letter word! I bumbled my way through the introduction with some witless story that I can’t even remember.

It was good to see that I was not alone – I had about ten other newcomers to brave the initiation. Like me it seemed other newcomers were there for the general camaraderie and a spot of exercise. I also found some familiar faces in the hash from other aspects of my Juba life so it started to feel increasingly comfortable and familiar.

Each week the event is hosted by different people in different locations so the course differs. The routes are created by “hares” who lead the running (and walking) groups to predetermined points. These points are both rest stops and also provide an opportunity to make sure the group doesn’t split and people get lost. On this day I found that on a previous run at this location a group did actually get lost (disturbingly it was the hare who got lost, even though he was the one who set the course!) and some people got beaten up! Not news I welcomed with open arms.

So after announcements and general chit chat it was off to the races!

Well running through rocky hills was always going to be a challenge so it should come as no surprise to learn that I was completely knackered! The last kilometer or two was agonising and taught me that I was not quite as fit as I hoped! The one good thing though about running in Jebel is that the young children from the local community showed more enthusiasm than we did and joined us as we ran along the road and up the hills. It felt like rock star treatment as they screamed after us – and also laughed at us. We probably looked like bunch on nutcases running around in their eyes but I guess we gve them something to talk about.

After completing the run we assembled again. This time the veterans introduced themselves to us. However, veterans introduced themselves by their “christened” names. So, is this a surreptitious religious event? Hell no! A Hash christening is basically a nick name chosen for the individual by other Hashers. Different Hashes have different approaches to the types of nicknames – some tend to be on the bawdy side. That evening I witnessed a christening – given to a group member after attending 5 Hash events. A young lady was up for her Christening so in accordance with tradition, other veterans were asked by the leader to reveal salient aspects of the person – her hobbies, habits, funny stories about the person, etc.

Well we learned this lady likes cats and after a number of possible names were bandied about and voted on, she was christened Pussy Lover. So for Hash purposes, that is her new name. And to commemorate this, she had to kneel on the floor and have beer poured all over her. Lovely!

In the introduction process I learned other Hashers and acquired some interesting nicknames. There is Stripper (an ironic name for a superannuated woman) and Permanent Ejaculator (apparently this is related to his premature downing of beer during another of the rituals, rather than conjugal traits) to name just two examples.

Well all in all it was harmless fun and I hope to catch up with them in future weekends. I had to miss the next one – an annual red dress Hash where runners run in red dresses (there is a tradition behind this that is lengthy but in short it has nothing to do with latent transvestite tendencies on the part of male runners) – due to travel commitments (phew!). But it will be interesting to see if I make it to five events and have to go through the christening process myself.

Your humble narrator.

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Harbouring an Appetite for a Wollof Spring

This year has witnessed some truly sensational political uprisings in North Africa and Middle East. Those of Egypt and Tunisia have, at least at present and on the surface, registered significant victories for “people power.” Those of Libya, Syria and a few others are currently inconclusive.

Not than any of this was on my mind in the slightest when I took a break from my South Sudan experience and spent some leave in Dakar, Senegal. All I was interested in when I went to Dakar was in getting away, catching up with some friends and enjoying the coastal sea air.

Senegal has long been seen as one of the most (maybe the most) stable country in West Africa. Thus the country hosts a number of regional headquarters for UN agencies and international organizations. It also benefits from a positive PR image that highlights the country’s artistic merits and an intellectual heritage that gave rise to the negritude movement (admittedly, I am not much of a fan of this romantic movement) in the sixties and produced intellectuals like Cheikh Ante Diop.

When I touched down in Dakar nothing seemed particularly amiss – granted I did touch down at an unreasonable hour of 2 AM. But as it so happened, there had been demonstrations and riots that day protesting the incumbent President Wade’s attempts to amend the constitution. In short, it was widely felt that the President was trying to use the amendments to pave the way for his son to inherit the office after Mr. Wade steps down (at 85, he is no spring chicken). Well the demonstrators won that battle and the President rapidly reversed his position.

So, all well then and time to enjoy the holiday!

To a point I suppose. I did enjoy the holiday in fact. I won’t go into detail about what I did – frankly that does not make for particularly interesting reading. However, throughout my stay I could not escape the vast shadow of one of the newest structures to decorate city. This structure – a mere 15 minutes walk away from my hosts – is the Renaissance Statue. The statue is huge – reputed to be taller than the statue of liberty and the Eiffel Tower. The statue (below) depicts a man, woman and child together with the man/father pointing towards the Atlantic.

Well sadly for Mr. Wade, this statue – his dream child – has not won universal acceptance. The criticism has come on many fronts. On the financial front, there is the cost (US$27 million) for a still relatively poor country. The cost comes with the added cheek of the President siphoning a tidy 35% of gate proceeds simply because he thought up the idea! Jaw dropping….straight up gangsta! There are also artistic criticisms – this statue is a throwback to Soviet-style aesthetics. If you’ve been to Moscow you may have seen the statues of figures like Yuri Gagarin – puffed up and hyper-muscled torsos and chiseled frames. The body simply has no fat! This aesthetic came as no surprise of course when one learned that the statue was built by North Koreans (and I saw a number of them doing some maintenance work on it). There are also cultural and religious sensitivities to consider too: maybe not so wise to depict the African lady with straight hair in a miniskirt that reveals her lovely thighs and some of her sturdy buttocks in a predominantly Muslim society! And situating the statue on a hill that holds special symbolic and spiritual significance to the Wollof – the largest ethnic group in Senegal – did not help matters.

The point is that the demonstrations that preceded my arrival and this statue suggested to me that Mr. Wade may be on of those leaders that is continually exasperating his people. But just as I was letting these thoughts recede to the very back of my mind as I focused on my departure, another demonstration broke out on the night of my flight. The roads closed up, adding personal drama to the situation as I had to find some way to make it to the airport as my hosts could not drive under such conditions. This time the demonstrations were over frequent power cuts.

For what it is worth yes, I made it out OK in the end. Fortunately the flight was after 1 AM and the demonstrators dispersed after 11 PM so I was able to get a taxi.

Had this been any other year, I probably would’ve forgotten the Dakar experience by now but with this year being the year of the uprising, I perversely check the situation in Senegal now and again. And indeed there have been more demonstrations and the President has sought to crack down by banning demonstrations altogether. This is an ominous sign for the Senegalese.

The comparisons with Egypt and Tunisia are superficially easy of course. Senegal, like both of those countries, has long been seen as an oasis of stability in a turbulent region. It also possesses a vibrant tourism industry and enjoys a generally positive international reputation. From the perspective of Westerners it is a predominantly Muslim country with unburdened by extremist sentiments (although this is quite common in West Africa – the Boko Haram movement in Nigeria is a real outlier) – more like Tunisia than Egypt. And the presiding head of state appears to be increasingly unpopular.

So, is Senegal ripe for an uprising of its own? A variant of the Arab Spring – a Wollof Spring (sounds like a pan-West African dish)? I don’t know – I am not from there and don’t live there so I can’t tell how profound the resentment is. And despite his faults, it does not appear that Mr. Wade is as repressive as his former and present counterparts in North Africa and the Middle East. But with this year being the year that it is, and with (I believe) a large number of Africans privately hoping on a “Spring” of sorts flushing out feckless and unpopular regimes outstaying their welcome, the activities in Senegal may be worth watching. And if there is momentum for a “people-powered” change in Senegal in the coming months, don’t mimic the media and say “well I never saw that coming.” No, you remember you heard rumblings (or perhaps more accurately ramblings) here from your humble narrator.

Renaissance or Rent Seeking?

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A Very Moving Day

I defied the security doomsayers and went out to watch the independence celebrations, as best I could. It was held at the mausoleum for the late and legendary southern rebel leader John Garang. We had been warned not to bring cameras and take pictures. I complied with that directive and indeed when I got to the venue I was searched for a camera. But when I entered and moved about the square, I found loads of people with cameras taking pictures! Well I was gutted because I have no pictures to draw from and brighten up the post!

Well I will keep things brief then and tell you it was a truly moving occasion. I can’t remember whether I have ever seen so much unadulterated joy among so many people – I don’t think the Obama inauguration matched it. However, it was incredibly hot and there was a puzzling absence of water sellers. Consequently there were numerous cases of fainting. However it was great to walk around and watch many different ethnic dances going on around the square (Sorry, no pics or videos). The actual ceremony started late, which was quite a burden for those of us standing outside and sandwiched in like sardines. Moments like those usually bring two things – friendly banter and tensions. I witnessed both in my little spot by the BBC camera man and correspondent. But at least the tensions never got out of control.

It seemed like there were too many VIPs and not enough seats! The poor SPLA generals graciously (under public pressure from the MC) had to give up their seats for invited guests. But eventually, and mercifully, the ceremony finally got under way. The moment though that we, or should I say I, waited for eventually came – the lowering of the flag of Sudan and the raising of the flag of the Republic of South Sudan! The outpouring of joy and emotion was incredible. The new country has many internal divisions but it was great to see people put these aside and take pride in their unified accomplishment.

I took the raising of the flag to prepare my exit. It had been a long day and I didn’t feel the need to listen to more speeches from foreign dignitaries. I also wanted to avoid the inevitable scrum of masses of people trying to leave all at once at the end. And besides, I needed a beer or two.

It was a great day there was not even a hint of security problems. Now things are slowly returning to normal. The surge in public cleanliness and infrastructure upgrades is gradually halting and life is returning to normal. But with independence over with, hopefully there will be greater investment and an increase in the standard of living for the citizens here.

That’s all for now.

Your humble narrator, ….

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Lights, Cameras, Independence!

On the 9th of July, southern Sudan will separate from the Sudan to become a new nation, and the hubbub surrounding the preparations as we close in are like the manic rushing of crew on a movie set. OK, I actually have never been on a movie set, and if I were to be a movie star do you honestly think I would be writing this blog!? But I take it on a leap of faith that the metaphor is appropriate.

I haven’t experienced the separation of a region of a country to form a new one before and I must confess, my knowledge of the ones that have occurred so far in my lifetime are woefully sketchy (i.e. Ethiopia-Eritirea, Serbia-Montenegro, Czech Republich-Slovakia). But I know they all had their unique dynamics. And the Sudan-Republic of South Sudan has its own unique dynamic too.

So, how is it like to live in a city that is about to become the capitol of a new country in just a matter of days? It is a mix of thrilling and bewildering. A priority of course is security. And the security forces are definitely representing. The roads are littered with checkpoints and it is quite normal now to see cars being pulled over by tall, menacing and AK-47 toting SPLA or police officers. But some of these security officers are clearly young, new and possibly not trained. The other day we were driving into the office in the car, with its distinct institutional logo on it and a soldier stopped us as we were close to entering the office compound and asked us to pull over. When asked why, we were told to just pull over. The back and forth continued until a plain clothed officer came over to the young officer and quietly told him to let us pass. No harm, no foul. But one of the more amusing moments occurred when I witnessed a police officer pull over a car being driven by a military police officer; the copper pulled him out and gave him the shake-down! He may’ve even been taken in! You can’t say there’s preferential treatment then, can you?

Humorous moments like those aside, the security concerns are very genuine. The split from the north of the country is not so amicable. Rather than a kiss and a hug together with well-wishes, it is more like a “You want to leave, well leave then and f@*k you! Don’t ask me for anything again and when you leave I hope the door hits you on the way out…but leave your oil here though.” So the rumours are that the northern brethren will want to play the role of spoilers and are paying for some mercenaries to come down to Juba, purchase arms (which are plentiful and easily available) and cause embarrassing disruptions on Independence Day. But the wounded pride of the northern brethren is not the only source of possible discord and threats. There are also real and/or imagined grievances held by southern groups who have taken up arms against the southern government and may also have (perhaps with assistance from up north) mischievous intentions of their own.

So surprise house raids for weapons searches have become the new norm in Juba as well. Admirably though, there has been great understanding of the need for security precautions so as far as my limited knowledge goes, there have not been too much outcry yet over the roadblocks and searches.

But as the inauguration looms, there are many questions that remained unanswered. When can the new currency be issued? The mates up north have stopped issuing the currency to the south – “You are a new country so get your own currency.” What is the status of southerners living up north (the message has been unequivocal: “All of you get out of here. Now!”). And what about the visas? Will the Sudan visas for those living and working in the south be recognized if they transit into the north? And how do the missions of international organizations and NGOs that have been covering the country holistically adjust to the division? The list of uncertainties goes on and on but as far as the 9th of July goes, it seems like it will all be alright on the night (yes for the pedants out there, I just mixed metaphors from film to the theatre).

That’s ROSS, if you please!

So on July 9th, southern Sudan will be become the Republic of South Sudan (RoSS) – the 196th country in the world and the 55th country in Africa. The new country will have many challenges ahead but it also has examples in the continent of what not to do, as well as what to do. But when a country in Africa is blessed with natural resources and has geopolitical strategic importance like RoSS does, there will be many external and internal actors pushing and pulling it in many directions – some will be good, some won’t be. But for now it is great to bask in the significance of the occasion.

Bringing it all home

In the past day or two there have been meetings about the preparations for the independence and those meetings have provided an opportunity for southern Sudanese to voice their feelings about the upcoming inauguration. The few words that have been expressed have been very touching but also made me realize how little I understand of the suffering they experienced not just during the last civil war that lasted two decades, but the suffering they have experienced being treated as second-class citizens at the hands of their “Arab” brethren in the north. And they have borne their suffering with pride and dignity. In this day and age when people twitter (and yes, yes I know, blog too!) and provide facebook status updates about something as trivial as tripping over a blade of grass, there is something to admire about the dignified relative silence of the southern Sudanese. Living here one senses that there are some deep scars that have yet to heal and indignities suffered that have never been reconciled. And this makes the occasion all the more moving.

We have been advised to stay indoors for the ceremony since only VIPS can attend the main event and the crowds will be overwhelming. But I hope to get out there for a bit – I won’t be able to see ceremony but I imagine it will be great just to witness the joy of those people who have suffered so much and have longed for this day.

Your humble narrator, ….

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On the Road

The idea of going on the road in South Sudan does not conjure up romantic images of the open road and endless possibilities a la Route 66. But that should not be a surprise because there is a definite lack of usable roads in South Sudan overall. The reasons for this include the country’s long civil wars – where land mines were used extensively by warring factions – and an often brutal natural environment that includes swamps and a rainy season that renders large areas virtually un-passable by road. So often a “road trip” in South Sudan is not something that one would often look forward to – rather than images of freedom and adventure coming to mind, one usually has the image of being stuck in the mud or plodding along ever so slowly on bumpy clearances, gritting one’s teeth and hoping for the torture to end.

But it seems like I got lucky. I was able to go on the road for work on a newly completed gravel road and a recently rehabilitated one in Western Equatoria State, in the south west of South Sudan. Well, so what is the big deal about that? For me maybe it isn’t one. But for the area itself it is a big deal. Western Equatoria State is blessed with remarkably fertile land for agriculture – especially fruit. The roads allow the farmers to supply local markets with their agricultural surplus. It also facilitates the provision of basic services to relatively remote areas.

The road also brings more than economic benefits. It also brings security benefits as well. Western Equatoria State has been beset by a variety of armed clashes – largely armed raids by the LRA based in neighbouring Central African Republic and the Democratic Republic of Congo. There are also armed attacks from the Ambororo cattle raiders. Insecurity of course undermines social and economic wellbeing so greater security also allows the local population to return to farming and to travel freely to different towns and villages in the areas.

But a road trip here is not necessarily boring. It may not be Route 66 but it does have its charms. The scenery is a lush green one, but the view can be obscured by the gravel being kicked up in the air by speeding cars. And there are the bushmeat sellers on the roadside selling a range of game meats, such as antelope meat.

Of course people drive way too fast so one worries for the young bicyclists pedaling away on the road.

And for the ‘adventure’ lovers out there, well, travel on the road (at least for those working with NGOs or international organizations) is still subject to curfews since the LRA have not disappeared from the area. And you may not want to wade around in the streams under the bridges – a crocodile had a hearty slap up meal at the cruel expense of a contractor working on the construction of the bridge and road.

The roads serve as an unofficial border with the Central African Republic and the Democratic Republic of Congo. In fact there is a small town in Western Equatoria State (apologies but I forgot the name) where if you drive around It you literally enter South Sudan, CAR and DRC. So one’s nationality can be determined by where one is born in the town!

I was once perusing a market in Ezo, (near the border with CAR) and I came across a stall that sold all the usual food and household provisions one would expect…and live rounds of bullets! Well, I thought to myself, this is a wet dream for the National Rifle Association in America. But this is no dream, it is quite serious and in a way understandable. I mentioned problems with insecurity earlier. And without the roads in such a vast expanse of land, you wonder how likely is it that the SPLA (the official security apparatus for South Sudan) or the police can respond to attacks quickly. So that means that local population is left to their own devices as far as protection is concerned. So the people arm up. Or form a militia, as they have done.

The Arrow Boys are the local militia that was created to defend against the LRA and the Ambororos. They started off with rudimentary bows and arrows but progressed into more conventional arms. So in a way it is a bit like the Wild West over here but the question arises as to what happens to the Arrow Boys as the threat of the LRA diminishes? It is easier to arm up then to disarm. I just hope that this militia does not grow into anything more disruptive in the future.

Here are a few pictures from the road.

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A View From Above

Not long ago a friend and I decided to climb Jebel Mountain. Well this mission was not exactly Three Cups of Tea material…and probably just as well!

Jebel Mountain, as it is caused, is not really a mountain. Or if it is, it is not a very big one. I actually have no idea how high it is – I could not find any information on its peak. However, it is high enough to provide a far reaching view of all of Juba and its surrounding areas. No wonder this mountain was of strategic importance during the civil war. In fact it was so important the Sudanese armed forces scattered a load of land mines around the mountain. When we went on our trip I was under the impression the “mountain” had been cleared. I found out later it has not been totally cleared! In fact, as new settlements are created on the mountain by new arrivals to Juba, more unexploded (or exploding) ordinances are found. Fortunately we did not put a foot wrong on our way up or down.

The top of the mountain itself is a very peaceful place to be – so far maybe my favourite place in Juba. But I have only been once. We had to go really early though because it gets hot by mid-day.

Given the abundance of granite (I think) Rocks and other sorts of rocks, on this mountain, there is a very busy stone quarry at its base. The settlements at the base of the mountain are called “Rock City”, and it is close to Jebel Lodge – a very popular hangout on weekend afternoons. Jebel Lodge is a hotel and lodge for contractors and features a swimming pool and apparently a nice restaurant. I have not been to the Lodge yet but I get the feeling I would prefer the relative peace on the top of the mountain. However, I would have to keep an eye out for the landmines if I plan on going back up there.

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Another Reason to Support the Red Cross!

Looks like I have discovered one of Juba’s best kept social secrets. Whisper it softly now, it is the ICRC (Int’l Community of the Red Cross) compound. OK, I’m being a tad dramatic here. It is not really a secret, I just happen to have been slow in getting over there. But I am glad I made it. A nice and comfy place to socialize over a few drinks and where the energetic and eager gather to play volleyball on the weekends.

As appealing as all those are though, it was something else that drew me to the ICRC compound. Something very important and greatly satisfying to me…pizza. Yes, pizza! It was a pizza night at the ICRC. A lovely group of Italian expats working at the hospital with the disables periodically put in a pizza night. The pizzas are made from scratch and heated in a brick oven. I could not resist getting in on the act. A nice free for all where we got a chance to roll some dough, spread some tomato sauce and add whatever ingredients one desired. And it all tasted good!

I hope to spend more warm evenings in the future outside making pizzas, drinking and chatting. But I will need plenty of cooperation from the weather – it is the rainy season here right now.

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A Simple Pleasure

I blogged earlier about not having many walking opportunities and feeling fenced in. Well when an invitation came to go for an impromptu walk along the Nile river (White Nile), I naturally jumped at the opportunity.

So, after a nice but bumpy ride across town and the Juba Bridge, my friend and I were able to embark on a peaceful two-hour walk along the Nile. It felt great – nice and peaceful. Hear are a few scattered images.

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Strains and Mobility

Juba is not a family duty station – that is what any applicant or anyone who accepts a job here is told. And it really is true. This is a place where people come to work. Full stop. A large number of people I have come across here have families…elsewhere. And this is not just expats. I have come across a substantial number of southern Sudanese who also have family outside – in Kenya and Uganda. You see Juba is within two hours flight from Nairobi and Kampala so a large number of southern Sudanese who left for Uganda and Kenya during the civil war have come back to work in Juba, but their families remain in Uganda, Kenya or elsewhere.

One gets the feeling that this separation from family takes its toll – on Sudanese and expats alike. There are untold frustrations and anxieties percolating under the surface. The strain on young families can be quite overwhelming – one person told me of the struggle and guilt she feels when she returns to Uganda every two weeks to spend a weekend with her family. Her young son takes awhile to recognize and reconnect with her and by the time the familial connection reforms, it is time for her to leave again. Every time she returns she senses a “j’accuse” look on her son’s face: “why do you abandon me?” She isn’t of course, but you can understand.

This sort of dislocation must make it difficult for there to be professional continuity with regards to staffing and also the development agenda that both the regional government (Government of South Sudan or GoSS) and the donors are trying to implement. It is difficult for some to commit to staying here for a very long time as it is hard post for personal relationships, especially as Juba is hardly the most accessible place on the planet. So recruitment, replacement and training is non-stop.

But there are of course the hardened global workers who have accepted a peripatetic life and personal relationships have been structured around this. You meet a number of them around here and they reel off the troubled spots where they’ve worked before – Afghanistan, Haiti, Iraq, Indonesia, etc. In some ways these are the true believers, the ones who are ready to tough it out. And with the economies in the industrialized countries struggling along maybe these true believers, rather than the meek, who will inherit the earth.

Seamy side

The magnetic labour pull of Juba does not just suck in humanitarians, engineers, education and health specialists, etc. It also sucks in sex workers (sorry, I could not resist that one). There are a lot of dislocated people who are willing to pay for “service.” Going by anecdotal accounts, it appears that there are a large number of sex workers coming in from Uganda and Kenya, some from further afield. Unfortunately these workers fall prey to violence and harassment from clients. They are also scapegoats for general xenophobia against Kenyans and Ugandans who come here to work. There is a shortage of skilled labor and management expertise among the southern Sudanese, creating opportunities for Ugandans and Kenyans to fill these gaping voids. To be fair I don’t have a full handle on the dynamics between the southern Sudanese and the Ugandans and Kenyans, but I have been told there is growing resentment from the indigenous population towards outsiders who are “taking their jobs.”

When South Sudan becomes an independent nation in July 2011, I don’t know how this will play out. The new Republic of South Sudan will inevitable be wooed to join the East African Community (Burundi, Kenya, Rwanda, Tanzania and Kenya) and surely freedom of movement of labour would be a requirement. The challenges that southern Sudanese will face on the labour front will not go away quickly.

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That is not a rude retort or reply! I mean it. I think of walls when I think of Juba. Juba is not an ancient city with historic walls. It is riddled with walled and razor-wired compounds. Obviously this is not for aesthetic reasons – as if there is anything aesthetic about razor wire. The walls are there for “security.” Although this concept is not foreign to me or anyone else who has lived or travelled through urban centers in developing countries – especially in Africa. But here I really feel the presence of these walls. It makes it hard for the city to have an identity or character and creates barriers and a feeling of disconnection.

Of course I do understand that security mandates it and insurance firms that allegedly provide insurance (come off it, we all know that they will never pay up if anything happens!) for international organizations insist on such measures.

These Walls Have Ears

I want to break free!

Although the walls create a barrier for normal daily encounters on the street, the walls don’t stand in the way of gossip and intrigue. Maybe they even accentuate it. You see, Juba is not so big and it seem like almost everyone knows each other or the degrees of separation are minimal. And with expats it probably feels like a village. I was told by someone, if you as much as sneeze, expect your friend at the other end of town to send you a sms saying “bless you!” So I have been warned – this may not be the best place for me to commit my “crimes” as everyone will know all about it! I will be on my best behavior.

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