Christmas in Nimule

Christmas greetings

Despite news reports to the contrary the whole of South Sudan is NOT a war zone. Areas affected are those which were war torn in any case: places such as Jonglei and Unity States.  Juba has now calmed down and we are no longer seeing panicking families heading for the border.  Eastern Equatoria State, where I am, has been free from violence. At Mass on Christmas Day the Deputy Governor for the state gave a very good speech appealing for a grassroots-led movement for peace and reconciliation. He said that the fighting is between government factions looking for personal power. Although the president and vice-president come from rival tribes, their struggle is personal and should be ignored. He urged the people not to cause things to escalate by making it become tribal. He asked people not to seek vengeance for their family members, but to work hard to forgive and mourn those who have died together.  He was greeted with enthusiasm.  I made sure I took his message back to the children’s home.

Christmas dinner is served

Yesterday I dropped into our local UN base to ask for news. They are very relaxed about the local situation.  They also see this area as very safe.

That said, we are being careful.  The gate-keeper to the children’s home and another male staff member have equipped themselves with traditional bows and arrows in case of emergency.  I attach photos, which don’t do them justice.  Close up, the arrows look absolutely lethal with barbed spikes to make them hard to remove.

Gatekeeper equipped

Pastor Abdullah has made a trip into Uganda and found a suitable place to rent in the event that we have to evacuate the children’s home.  The border is walking distance.

Christmas was lovely.  The boys killed three goats.  We ate together and had a feast of goat (roast and stewed), rice, fruit and sweets.  The children found the sensation of a full stomach very uncomfortable and unfamiliar.  Hardly anyone ate the evening meal.  Everyone proudly wore their new clothes.  Later in the day the older girls went out, clearly wanting to show off their swanky attire.

The only fly in the ointment was that I was attacked by a mad woman on my way to Mass on Christmas Eve.  She knocked me flying and I fell very awkwardly on my wrist.  Thankfully there was an immediate rush of people to help me, including a Dinka who took me to a local clinic for pain relief and bandages.  He then helped me get a boda to church.  I doubt if I would have had such care from strangers in London.  My wrist is still very swollen and I am therefore typing this post one-handed. An incident like this could happen anywhere in the world, including London.  The reaction of bystanders was characteristic of Sudan, north or south.

We will not be moved!

This is a photo of my three youngest charges, who were staging a ‘sit-in’ in my room and refusing to come out.  As you can see, they are blissfully unaware of the country’s problems.  Hopefully this will remain the case.

Political crisis

The President of South Sudan and his Vice-President have been at loggerheads since before I arrived here.  On Sunday, things came to a head and there was an attempted military coup in Juba by supporters of the Vice-President.  The news even reached the BBC.

Monday passed without incident although people were tense, as it turned out, with good reason.  There is a barracks in the town, and they feared that there might be clashes there between the two groups.  Other than these forebodings, and a 6pm curfew, nothing happened in Nimule.

On Tuesday things were quiet during the morning.  Pastor Abdullah gave a particularly appropriate reading and soothing sermon on the subject of ‘If God is for us, who can be against’.  He said that nobody should go out of the compound.

Later I sat and taught some children in a shady spot with a sleeping three year old on my lap.  Then, when we had had enough, I carried the sleeping child to bed.  I was followed by an eight year old carrying my books and glasses.  After depositing the little one, I went back to retrieve my books and glasses from my pupil.  She was still outside.  Suddenly some teenagers ran towards me and staff started shouting in Madi.  I looked and saw tall, thin soldiers with oversized guns coming through both sets of gates.  The army is largely Dinka, who are a very different physical type from the Madi.  For the first time I saw things through their eyes.  It was sad to see how the Madi stereotype of Dinkas is being reinforced to the children at the home through nobody's fault.  My poor pupil was panicking and stumbling and had dropped my glasses.  I went back outside to get my glasses.  Then I walked behind my pupil so she could feel that there was someone safe behind her and helped her indoors. 

My first feeling was of sheer fear, but thankfully this passed really fast.  The next thought I had was a ridiculous one: ‘Thank goodness lunch has been prepared before this happened – we won’t starve!’  I think most people reacted in the same way as everyone went immediately to get their food.  As we did so, the soldiers were silently circling around outside in a very sinister fashion, checking the school buildings and church and the surrounding homes outside the compound. 

This situation carried on.  At one point, soldiers came into the home itself and checked every room, including mine.  When they came to my room they asked if I had any visitors, which seemed a strange question at the time.  Since then I have been told that the reason for the search was because they had heard that one of their opponents had escaped from Juba to Nimule and was directing operations from our immediate area.

I spent most of the time while we were inside the home telling the children stories to try to de-stress them.  To give you an idea of the length of time, we worked our way through The Princess and the Pea, Jack and the Beanstalk, The Tortoise and the Hare, Cinderella, the Three Little Pigs, The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids, The Three Billy Goats Gruff, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves and Sleeping Beauty.

Then, as suddenly as the soldiers had arrived, they left.  The matron, who comes from Uganda, was very scathing.  She said if it happened in Uganda, the soldiers would be arrested for carrying guns into a children’s home.

Later, when the staff were eating, Pastor Abdullah told us about his experience.  He did a comic impression of a stupid Dinka who speaks very bad English and asked ignorant questions about the obvious.  He told us that the commander saw some of the older children, who are in their teens, and was amazed that they were still at the home.  The soldiers’ eyes lit up at the sight of our beautiful teenage girls.  One soldier asked if he could marry one of them.  The pastor said that if he wanted to marry one, he had to go through him and the marriage must take place at the Cornerstone church.  He was joking about it, but I doubt if it felt funny at the time.

Apart from the initial panic, the children behaved very calmly.  At morning devotions the next day, I congratulated them on their courage.  My opinion of Pastor Abdullah has also gone up.

Trip to the dressmakers

A typical dressmakers

Numerous people have told me that everyone must wear new clothes for Christmas.  This is a local tradition which is strictly carried out.  Everyone has seen my entire wardrobe as it is very limited, so I can’t produce something from the bottom of the pile to stun them with.  I have spent two months admiring the local ladies’ best clothes, which are made of lovely African patterned cotton, with a certain degree of envy.  Typically they wear long flared skirts with matching short sleeved tops.  After some soul-searching, because my budget is limited, I decided to treat myself to a locally made outfit. 

Making the finishing touches to my outfit

The local market has many dressmakers, working on treadle-operated machines.  I asked Christine, the matron at the children’s home, to come with me to introduce me to a good dressmaker in case I was ripped off.  Together we went to a dressmaker who is a friend of hers, only to find that she was not at the booth.  The booth is rented by a number of women who use it casually, bringing their own Singer machines on their heads, ready to attach to the treadle tables in the booth.  The dressmaker who was there phoned Christine’s friend.  In the meantime we sat and talked, watching the other dressmaker work.  In the meantime I chose some cloth in a suitably festive colour scheme.  When Christine’s friend arrived, I showed her my sarong and one of my blouses, which I wanted her to use as templates.  The price was small, 50 SSP (South Sudanese pounds) for labour plus 65 SSP for the cost of the cloth.

The finished product

Today I went to fetch the finished product.  As you will see from the photo, the outfit is not cut to match the pattern of the material.  The design of the skirt is the local traditional one, with a drawstring waist, in a very different pattern to my sarong.  The blouse has long sleeves as requested, but is not the same design as the blouse I had shown as a template.  I realise that all these women are self-taught and making a living as best they can, so this was not completely unexpected.  They do not have professional training and can only make designs that they have practised and taught each other.  The result is lovely if unorthodox, and will remind me of the dressmakers of Nimule whenever I wear it. 

On a side-issue, one day I came into the staff dining room to find two of my oldest Primary 5 girls talking to the matron.  They were very despondent because they had failed their end of year exams for the fifth year running.  Naturally they find it extremely disheartening to see the younger children passing and moving ahead while they are doomed to stay.  They were asking the matron’s advice on what to do as they are now in their teens.  Christine suggested that they stop school and learn to make clothes.  She strongly recommended this as so many local women are very successful at making a living that way.  She said that the home would pay the necessary start-up costs and find someone to teach them.  The girls accepted her advice.  Soon they will join the legion of women who create the elegant ladies who throng Nimule.

Politics Nimule style

The politics of Nimule are unlike any I have seen before.  There is little or no interest in international news.  I only heard about the death of Nelson Mandela several days late because I happened to be on the internet.  Politics here is local and very much tied into tribal loyalties.  The lines are clear and there appear to be no way of resolving differences.  I am sure this is untrue, and that ‘where there is a will there is a way’, but it certainly appears like that. 

The Madi is the main local tribe, which covers the whole of the surrounding area, stretching into Uganda too.  There are small numbers of Acholi, who also range across the border.  The Madi and Acholi are settled farmers. There are also a large number of Dinka, who are nomadic cattle herdsmen.  The Dinka roam across the whole country, not just this area.  Even I can see the difference between Dinka and other local people.  The Dinka are extremely tall and long-limbed.  They often have lines of facial scarring across their foreheads.  The Madi and Acholi do not use scarification and are a more usual height.  The Dinka are famous among the Madi for being very war-like, savage, polygamous and practising their own Dinka religion, although in fact there are many Christians among them.  I have heard (from a Madi source, so this may be propaganda) that if a second wife brings children from a previous marriage, they will be killed by the first wife.

There is enmity between all, but both Madi and Acholi are bitterly opposed to the Dinka.  This is highly problematic because the national government is Dinka-led.

The staff of the children’s home and its church are almost entirely Madi, and very proud of it.  They make no bones about being partisan both on tribal grounds and regarding any other version of Christianity.  Even the youngest children at the home are indoctrinated into this tribal enmity.  One day when there was a conversation relating to the Dinka, one of the smallest children, aged three, piped up, ‘The Dinka will kill us with their guns.’

Across the valley is a church which I have been told very dismissively is Dinka.  ‘They have a strange way of praying’, I was told by an Acholi friend.  I held myself back from asking, ‘Compared to what’?  (I find the way of praying here bizarre in the extreme.)  The Catholic church, thankfully, is open to all and preaches a breaking of barriers and peace.  Even so, most of the congregation are Madi, so there is a Mass in Madi daily.  On Sundays there is also a very well attended Mass in English to cater for all non-Madi parishioners.

As mentioned earlier, during the civil war, the huge Madi population went as refugees to Uganda in one big exodus.  Their land was taken over in their absence by Dinkas.  Please bear in mind that this is ancestral land going back to medieval times.  On their return after the war they have struggled to re-establish themselves.  They complain that the land has been ruined by the Dinka cattle.  They also complain that the Dinka steal their cattle. 

There is constant friction and differences of opinion in Madi leadership circles on what to do about the land situation.  Some favour evicting the Dinkas, others would prefer to sell the land to them.

Shortly before I arrived in Nimule in September there was a major crisis.  The Paramount Chief of the Madi tribe was assassinated by persons unknown.  He is much mourned by his people.  The staff at the children’s home have told me that the police arrested all those who attended the last elders meeting with the chief, including his heir.  All those arrested were severely tortured, one to a point where he is now disabled permanently.  According to my ‘sources’ here in the home the police knew all along that the men were innocent and that it was a Dinka plot.  As the police are acting for the Dinka government they wanted to protect the Dinka assassin.  According to people at the home these elders are still in prison, without trial because the police are embarrassed that the extent of the torture will be obvious in court and that it will be so clear that the men were innocent.

I have had conversations with a US missionary who ministers in a largely Dinka area.  Apparently the Dinka view of the Madi is that they are unpatriotic cowards.  During the war, the Dinka were the backbone of the resistance fighters and won a very important local battle that changed the tide of the war.  They were very unimpressed when the Madi disappeared en-masse to Uganda’s refugee camps and feel that they were left to do the entire work of winning the war against the Arab north.  To be fair to the Madi, they were suffering terribly from the reign of terror caused by the Lords Resistance Army.  They wanted to protect their families.

According to what he has been told, the Dinkas believe it was a Madi who killed the chief.  They believe the motive was because of the different opinions on what to do about the land problem. The Paramount Chief had many opponents who disagreed with his plan to sell the land to the Dinkas.  According to the Dinkas, the only reason the elders are still in prison is because they have refused to leave as they want a well-publicised trial.  They are actually free to go, scot-free as there is no case against them.

Early this week, the pastor at the home announced that there was to be a meeting this Sunday after church for all Madis over the age of fourteen.  This includes some of the children at the home.  When I went to Mass on Sunday, there were fewer people there than usual as a result. At the end of Mass the parish priest introduced the State Governor who wanted to speak to everyone.  He gave the best speech I have heard since coming to Nimule.  Extraordinarily, it was short and to the point, addressing the importance of unity in South Sudan.  It is a shame he wasn’t heard by those who were attending the Madi meeting.

Thankfully things are not violent here in Eastern Equatoria State.  Elsewhere in South Sudan, particularly in Jonglei and the ironically named Unity state, there are full scale massacres happening between warring tribes.  Let us hope this doesn’t happen here.

Is that your hair or a wig?

Nursery 'graduates' try on their outfits

Although the exams are over, the teachers are still coming to school each day, but they arrive very late.  They sit in the office writing up the exam results and filling in end of year report cards.  Over the week a gradually diminishing number of school children have come, still wearing uniform, in the hope of receiving their exam results.  These are being processed very slowly by the teachers.  This must be agonising for the students, who anxiously wait outside the office each day.  I have been told that there will be a graduation ceremony.  When I asked when this would take place, I was told that the date has not yet been set because the teachers have not finished the report cards yet.  A clear case of the tail wagging the dog if ever there was one.

As predicted in previous posts, my students have very poor grades, with the worst in Primary 4.  A third of my Primary 5 students passed.  Only 7 out of 58 passed in Primary 4.  I have discussed the situation with the headmistress and asked if I could divide these students by ability next year, so that I have three classes of roughly 30, a mix of Primary 4 and 5.  She has agreed to construct the timetable so that this is possible.

I have mentioned previously that schools here are insistent that pupils must have their heads shaved very closely.  The result is that up till now it has only been possible to distinguish boys from girls by their clothes.  I am now seeing how different things are in the holidays. 

A close shave for school

Here at the children’s home, the teenagers are doing what teenagers do everywhere: making the most of their out of school time.  Both boys and girls sleep later (devotions are now at dawn rather than starting in the pitch black and finishing at dawn) and in spite of the threat of punishment, fewer children attend. 

The girls are growing their hair.  They have taken large quantities of long plaited ‘hair’ and are holding long hairdressing sessions in which they attach the hair to their own heads using the new growth of genuine hair to hold it in position.  The false hair is made of wool.  The results are spectacular, but sometimes make it difficult to recognise them as the same girls I had got to know in a bald state.

My daily routine has changed so that I am available to teach additional English literacy lessons to individual children.  I am also teaching the recorder to the children.  One boy in particular has a real gift and is learning to play the recorder very competently.  I have also started a children’s Bible study class as from this weekend.

A new Repunzel

It is my intention to hold adult literacy classes over the holidays, but I am finding it very difficult to set these up.  I have been adamant that this should not be a westerner-led project, but one that is sustainable without me.  In practical terms it will be necessary to find other willing teachers because of the huge level of need for these classes.  I struggle to get any cooperation and am now re-thinking ways forward.

The end result