Birth of a nation: the independence of South Sudan

Hi there,

Finally, here it is. My blog post on the most awesome party of the year; the independence celebrations of the new Republic of South Sudan. In between trying to regain some motivation to actually finish my transcriptions and start writing the remaining chapters of my thesis, meeting up with friends, work, moving the final things back to my apartment and trying to get of my cold (I swear, the drippy nose has become permanent), one cannot blame me for being a couple of days late.

I still miss Juba, though less acute and sharp then for instance a week ago. Last Friday, I went to the film ‘Schlafkrankheit’ (with an excellent Pierre Bokma), about a doctor working in Cameroon who couldn’t say goodbye to the country and its people. In the film, many things were present that I encountered in Juba as well, like police officers trying to ‘earn’ some extra money from your pocket at a checkpoint, money from NGOs that goes to the car of the son of the local liaison the NGO works with, people that do not keep time (and particularly subordinates who keep telling you “he will come, he will come”, but never ‘when’ of course) and so on. The film portrayed the banality of such practices quite accurate, which made me feel quite wistful, but also made me remember my own experiences and new understandings with a certain fondness.

Anyway, back to the Big day itself, the party of the year: the independence of South Sudan. In my previous blog post I have written that the party already started the night before, with the entire of Juba celebrating on the streets of the capital of the world’s 193rd nation. Those celebrations continued all night, or until cars started to run out of gas. The next morning, people went en masse to the memorial of John Garang, which had been converted just in time into the official ceremonial area, a VIP lounge, a press platform with no protection against the burning sun and a massive area where the common people could follow the ceremony and speeches as well. People were allowed to enter the different areas from 7 in the morning. We, a large group that consisted of the ICCO staff, Gemma, Jane from VNG International, Stephen, one of Stephen’s brothers and myself, also went to the memorial to watch the ceremony and participate in the celebrations there. By the time our group arrived at the site, which was at 10 in the morning, the seating areas were completely filled and the area for the common people was starting to really fill up as well.

And people really dressed up for the event; I have seen people wearing evening dresses, brand new suits with tie (and it was a nice 40 degrees that day), flags - either as a hat or make-shift t-shirt or skirt even – and many people came in traditional wear, which ranged from men wearing makeshift waistcloths made of leopard print (together with the latest sneaker fashion, mind you), people were body painted according to traditional styles, and many women could be seen wearing beautiful bead decorations with just their bra beneath (according to tradition, women are not supposed to wear anything beneath, but it seems that the western underwear culture has even reached the most modernization resilient tribes of South Sudan). We even came across someone dressed up as a lion, and of course I couldn’t resist and I had to take a picture with this guy.

Security, of course, was tight that day. While the evening before soldiers could be seen celebrating along with the people on the streets, on the big event itself you could see military helicopters guarding the festivities from the air, and big trucks containing masses of soldiers were guarding the different points were people were passing by the memorial, the VIP lounge, the speakers area and the areas where the common people were free to celebrate. We decided to go to the latter areas, mostly because if we had gone to the VIP areas we would have had to sit out the entire ceremony in a burning sun without any parasols or other material that would cover people from the sun, and simply because we wanted to go to the areas where the real parties took place. When we arrived at the entry, the men were required to go to a security check – women were not, which we found quite surprising, but who were we to complain? After the guys got checked we were also taken to a guy that ‘registered’ our cameras, which came down to a brief look at the camera in question before he deemed it suitable enough to take pictures with.

From the checkpoint we explored the celebration areas for the common people to see if we could locate a good spot and to watch people celebrating. The ceremony was supposed to start at 10 o’clock in the morning, but predictable there was a delay, meaning that we plenty of time to explore instead. Of course, that was what we did, and within no time Gemma and I became sucked into this brilliant madness of dancing, jumping, shouting, laughing and singing mass of people that had come to celebrate independence. People constantly wanted to take pictures with the both of us, with both our camera and with their own, with us of course having to pose differently for each picture. Being two of the few khawajas that were actually celebrating with the commoners instead of celebrating with the VIPs made us extremely popular. Many people expressed their gratitude to us, just because we had come to Juba to celebrate along with them.

From the moment we got sucked into the celebrations, I have to admit that I did not pay any attention to the actual ceremony whatsoever. To watch the South Sudanese people celebrating was an impressive experience, and actually participating even more. It is hard to put in words what I have actually seen and experienced, so I hope the pictures speak for themselves. I think I have participated in at least six traditional dances when people pulled me into throngs of dancing people, moving along with them on the sound of drums, tambourines, horns and the rhythmic sound of stamping feet. Two Nuer have tried to teach me one of their battle songs, and I have been hugged and congratulated by people countless times. I have even been informed that I would be able now to obtain a South Sudanese passport, just because I had decided to join the people of South Sudan to celebrate. And I have seen so many people just being happy that day, some even crying tears of happiness, because they were finally free.

When the heat even became too much us, Gemma and I had a brief break on top of a fire truck just outside of the celebrations area. The fire truck was there to supply people with water – which was quite necessary considering the heat and the enthusiastic way people celebrated. I have seen quite a few people being carried away after fainting due to a lack of water and the heat. On top of the fire truck we had a good view on the celebrations area and the area where the official ceremony was being held. There we watched the final dignitaries arrive, and the start of the ceremony, over two hours late. But I do not think anyone in the celebration areas cared. From the fire truck we saw the flag of the Republic of South Sudan being raised and did we listen to the new national anthem and the cheers of people all around us.

After that, we went back to the compound and under way, we watched with Stephen and his family to some of the speeches that were being held after the raising of the official flag. To be honest, only the speech of Ban Ki Moon was sort-of impressive (he spoke of the challenges ahead for South Sudan and the entire region of Eastern Africa). The speech of lady Ashton was embarrassing (‘Hi! How are you!? It is great to be here!’ - kind of silly), the speech of al-Bashir everything that was to be expected (he wished the new nation good luck and promised he would not sever ties with them) and Salva Kiir is just not very good at speaking in public. But, I do not think that half of the people that were celebrating in the celebration areas have listened to any of the speeches held by Ban-Ki-Moon or even President al-Bashir or Salva Kiir for that matter. People were just too busy dancing, singing, celebrating.

Even I myself experienced this simple feeling of happiness that day, enjoying the celebrations, letting the world know that the Republic of South Sudan has finally become a reality. Now, looking back on the entire event, to me the celebrations seemed a way for people to express their emotions about 21 years of civil war and hardship and their final reward for resisting. But one day of celebrations does not mean that people will not be facing the same hardships and challenges as they did before the 9th. On the contrary, the new Republic of South Sudan will have to prove to the world now that it can develop itself, and can become a stable factor in the troubled region of Eastern Africa.

After we watched some of the recaps of the official ceremony (and managed to catch our breaths) we went back briefly to the celebration areas at the memorial. By then, the people had managed to climb over the fences that separated the main stage for the celebration areas and were continuing the party on the front stage as well. Even the heavy rain shower that suddenly appeared did not matter to the people there, they just kept on dancing, singing, taking pictures of themselves at the main stage and so on. The military guarding the area did not seem to mind much. We also briefly observed the VIP area, where we managed to spot several of the international guests, famous and infamous ones, including President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe. In the evening we stayed at the compound and watched the huge firework show that took place at the memorial. In the residential area surrounding our compound celebrations also continued the entire night, music, shouting and the occasional gunshot included ^^.

Looking back, this was the perfect way to end my stay of 83 days in Eastern Africa and South Sudan. I hope everyone has enjoyed my ramblings of the past three months. I would like to thank everyone who has kept in touch with me during my stay in Juba, whether it was by e-mail, Facebook, Skype, text messages or my blog. All of you helped me a lot during the lesser moments, and I really appreciated your messages.

With love,

Anika