Home, sweet home...

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The bits of memory when she was leaving home… Adults speaking in hurried voices, a tinge of fear and uncertainty. No one knew where the children would end up really but all hoped they would be in a better place. They were loaded into a truck and off they went. But where is granny? Someone find my 'abuba' because I cannot leave without her. What about my friends...oh my cousins can we all go together?

The bits of memory when she was leaving home… Adults speaking in hurried voices, a tinge of fear and uncertainty. No one knew where the children would end up really but all hoped they would be in a better place. They were loaded into a truck and off they went. But where is granny? Someone find my 'abuba' because I cannot leave without her. What about my friends...oh my cousins can we all go together?

 

"Mother, if we are all leaving, who is going to take care of the goats and the chicken? Who will take care of our home? Will daddy not be lonely when we leave?" a little boy asked.

Alas! The war was upon South Sudan. So many left their homes and sought asylum in other countries. But it was more than a home they left behind. They left friends and family, culture and heritage...their very rights to grow up on the soil of their ancestors. No more traditional dances, 'nugara' or 'gaza', watching elders drink 'kenyimur' and 'kpete' or 'sukusuku' (local brew), or the young men beating the drums and the people dancing to the beats. But go we shall with home of a possible peace and return home.

Humanity must survive. South Sudanese like all others forged a new life in other countries. They soon had somewhere else to call home. Back home, motherland bled and cried, and fought tirelessly for liberation so her children may come back home. But the war was a long one. Battles lost but the war won. Oh what joy. All said now we can go back home and all will be well.

So when she receives that degree she looked at her parents and said, ' I'm going home. I'm going back to help build my country.' And build she did together with so many others. Like a well-watered tree the country blossomed and prospered. Oh, how glorious to see all rushing to come see the new nation, to look for opportunities in Africa's newest baby!

Like a sweet grabbed from a child too soon, South Sudanese lost their blooming home in the blink of an eye. No number of graduates, trained militia, top notch politicians seemed to make things better. Every day a child of South Sudan fell and every day a tear rolled down our checks. Yet every day we pray. We look upon our broken homes and displaced people and we pray. We reach out to the God who brought us out of the first fight and implore Him to have mercy on our people.

Mercy He does have and hope He did give South Sudan. Everyone who takes time to pray for our people despite their ethnicity, everyone who takes any chance they can to help South Sudanese, and everyone who makes it their business to keep having faith and keep holding on - keep believing that things will get better. We are the hope that things will get better.

To all South Sudanese out there in whichever country, thank you for sparing a thought or two, or a prayer for your country. Keep those development plans and expertise near because soon you will come back home. Sweat and toil you will, but your country you will you build, and your children will finally be home.