Charles Okwir

15 Oct 2015 17:55

THE last time I visited Rumbek, the restive capital of South Sudan’s Lakes state, was in 2013 when I was still working for a UN agency.  A lot has happened since.  A bitter conflict broke out, claimed thousands of lives, displaced millions, and I am now working for Save the Children.

As I sat in the hot, stuffy, and crowded “departure lounge” of Juba International Airport waiting for our badly delayed UN-World Food Programme flight to Rumbek, my mind quietly drifted off to what I had witnessed in Rumbek on that fine March morning in 2013.  In a blog then, I had described what I thought was the true soul of Rumbek in these terms:

“…It is approximately 9 a.m.  The piercing rays of the sun in tropical Africa are beginning to make their presence felt here in the central business district of the dusty Rumbek town – the capital of Lakes state, which forms part of the Greater Bahr el Ghazal region of South Sudan where the Luo ethnic groups that eventually settled in Uganda and Kenya are believed to have come from. 

The scene here, of course, is no different from that of your typical African town.  Half-drunk commuter taxi touts shouting at the top of their voices, as drivers honk their omnibus horns to attract passengers.  Petty street traders too are shouting and using every trick in the book to lure customers to buy their merchandise; from bottled water to “Rollex” – a quintessentially Ugandan snack made of fried eggs rolled in chapatti!”

Two years down the road, I am confronted with things that seem to have frozen in time, and others that had changed dramatically.  Rumbek Airfield’s “terminal building” was exactly as I had left it, with its unified arrival and departure “lounge” whose “walls” are made of chain-linked wire.  With every flight arrival, UN and NGO vehicles stream on to the “red soil tarmac” to pick passengers. 

‘Darkness at Noon’

In my mind, I thought Rumbek was still as I had described in my 2013 blog.  How wrong I was – it had changed beyond recognition!  Perhaps by coincidence, a dark cloud was hanging over Rumbek the day we arrived.  The noisy-half-drunk commuter taxi touts seemed to have melted into thin air.  A handful of pale looking petty traders stared into the distance as if asking for divine intervention – wondering where the next meal would come from. 

Not a single “Rollex” making charcoal stove was in sight – and with it went the irresistible allure of eggs and wheat on fire.  An eerie silence haunts Rumbek.  The chaos of the “typical African town” was no more – and I missed it dearly.  

Every few hundred meters, armed men in military uniform are seen under roadside trees – evidence of a country at war.  It’s as if Rumbek’s soul had walked away from it in protest at the death and destruction that has ravaged South Sudan for the last 20 months.

Hope in Despair

And then, as if by magic, my sunken spirits were lifted by what I saw at the Technical and Vocational Education Training (TVET) centre.

The enthusiasm and hope at the TVET Centre was a stark contrast to the doom and gloom of Rumbek town centre.  Here, men and women, young and old, were busy learning metal fabrication, hairdressing, brick-laying, tailoring, and modern agricultural techniques.

I am immediately struck by activity in the compound.  There, approximately seven young men on the brick-laying course are meticulously measuring and building their model brick walls. 

“This is one of the most popular courses we run here,” the TVET Centre Instructor tells me, adding that, “many of the young men who have graduated from here are now working at construction sites in town – the prospect of earning money after graduation is very attractive to them.”

Near the brick-laying shade, a group of five women are busy weeding their garden allotments of assorted green vegetables.  One of them, I was told, had recently sold her vegetables and “...bought herself a pair of sandals for the very first time in her life without asking her husband for money.”  How cool is that?  Sensing my excitement, Michael, our guide for the day, decided to take us back to Rumbek town centre to show us two TVET graduates who were already in business.

Firs up was a self-employed young man who was now running his own metal fabrication workshop – complete with a power generator.  Further up the road, we met a young, slender, and slightly shy TVET graduate who was now working at “Mumbejja Hair Salon” in town.  “When I earn enough money, I will open my own salon here in town.” the young lady said.

NGOs are often criticised, and legitimately sometimes, for what one African leader called “wasting time in workshops.”  But as I flew out of Rumbek after a week-long visit, one thought crossed my mind – and it is that:  If for nothing else, then this centre represents the resilience of a few people who could otherwise have sunk into hopeless despair and resignation as a result of the death and destruction visited upon them by war.

The author is the Media & Communications Manager for Save the Children South Sudan. Twitter:_at_COkwir