The epic life of Jesh el Amer of South Sudan: Lessons of the 25th
anniversary of the unforgettable 1987 journey to refuge
Written by Joseph Deng Garang, The New Sudan Vision (NSV),
www.newsudanvision.com
Thursday, 16 May 2013 11:55
OMAHA - IMAGINE having to watch your small children flee on barefoot
to the wilderness or some distant country where they would spend
decades on their own—a faraway land where either you as their parents
or grandparents have never been before—or in the case of many, never
having to see each other again.
Fatefully, that was the case for Jesh el Amer, a group that has become
famously known as the Lost Boys and Girls of South Sudan thanks to the
international news media which became fascinated with their story
following arrival in western capitals at the turn of the century.
TWENTY FIVE YEARS ago last December, tens of thousands of those
children, ages 7-11, fled their villages at the height of the Sudanese
civil war. At such tender ages, children usually do not fit the
typical description of venturing to new places either as travellers or
globetrotters.
But this particular group of children for years found themselves
trekking the vastly rugged, sometimes unforgiving terrains of East
Africa , ‘up’ for safety—up being the preferred metaphor at the time
for the peaceful and the quiet highlands of Ethiopia, or Kenya, the
very neighboring countries, which in the ensuing years became the
de-facto destination for child refugees from Sudan.
Still up to now, there is no definitive statistics on the actual
number of Jesh el Amer survivors or those lost along the way but some
people believe that close to half or three quarters have perished over
the years. Their storied journey as captured in a number of books,
documentaries and by western journalists echoes this heart-wrenching
quote now available on one Facebook page created by a fellow South
Sudanese and devoted to creating awareness:
“By the year (1987-1992), 26,000 Lost Boys of South Sudan walked away
from the war. They walked for days, then weeks, then months and
finally for over a year. They walked anywhere from 900 to 1,000 miles,
first to Ethiopia, then back to South Sudan, then south to Kenya,
looking for safety. Ten and eleven year olds were the elders. Seven
and eight year olds became each other’s' parents, binding one
another's wounds, sharing sips of muddy water, burying their dead.
When the littlest ones became too weak or tried to continue, the older
boys picked them up and carried them. Some boys, too exhausted to go
on, simply sat down and died of starvation or dehydration. Others
lagged behind, becoming easy prey for lions, beaten by snakes or
simply affected by certain diseases and then died.”
I will be citing the experience of Jesh el Amer of Panyido as a
microcosm for this article. Granted, there are various contours based
on the many things different groups encountered or faced over the
years in their locations, for example, those who went to Itang, Dimo,
Polataka, Panyido and Kakuma. But overall there is a single thread of
narrative that binds the whole fraternity of Jesh el Amer.
For years, these children got used to being referred to by such names
as the Unaccompanied Minors, or Lost Boys and Girls, but the one
revolutionary and iconic name that has stuck with them is Jesh el
Amer—the name that became so popular, both for its appeal and
historical relevance, which, although it applied to the original group
who are now grown men, that it could still serve its purpose in
describing future generations of young South Sudanese. The
translation: the little red army or children of liberation.
As curious little children full of boundless energy and loving care
and about to learn the ways of the world and the society, these
unsuspecting were already seeing early telltale signs of destructions
of the civil war, years before their great escape. The tranquility of
life in their villages anchored by nature with its harmonious elegance
and the breezy touch of African air mixed the aroma of lush
vegetation, of elegant trees and wildlife, and the peaceful
environments was slowly beginning to shatter. Strange sounds of wild
animals and birds began to be heard—signs of impending danger, so
warned the prescient voices of loving parents who were privy to the
ills or shall we say the inner workings of the world, parents whose
knees and heels those children learned the great societal values.
For five decades, the Arab world of Sudan was bent on devaluing the
humanity of the African person in the Sudan. It conspired against the
African child who was left to his or her own devices, and denied
access to a future of a world class education that would allow them to
navigate a world of their peers.
The north had achieved that through its perennial policy of
marginalization whereby the Southern region was condemned and closed
off to all sorts of developments. Through twists of fate and the dark
forces of the evil system in Khartoum, through the inherent hand of
north-south civil wars, tens of thousands of defenseless innocent
children found themselves plucked from normalcy and plunged into war
child status in 80s.
The liberation struggle had started 3 years earlier with the arrival
of the Koryom, and Muor-Muor from Bonga. Then the year of Bucket
wheel, in which some saw the excavation of the now imposing Jonglei
Canal. Soon were bad news of relatives getting killed in the frontline
was making people numb; people almost had no tears left in their eyes
by the time war had ravaged the entire South Sudan. The roaring sounds
of mortar shells from afar, the whizzing sounds of Russian made MiCs
or Antinov bombings would rent the air. But it was just the beginning.
Then came the great escape came. The year was 1987. Word had reached
many chiefs in villages in the three previously predominant provinces
of Southern Sudan—Upper Nile, Equatoria, and Bhar el Ghazal—from the
top echelon of the liberation movement, instructing SPLA zonal
commanders to let children start moving to safety, and commanders Kuol
Manyang Juuk, Daniel Awet Akot, Riek Machar Teny, and James Wani Igga
responded in kind, setting in motion the emancipation of the African
child.
By the time their escape to Ethiopia culminated in Pinyudo, and Dimo,
the Jesh el Amer had very limited choices. Perhaps, it was there that
the Jesh el Amer philosophy was born—a belief and the eternal optimism
and the hope for better tomorrow. Perhaps it is that very philosophy
that have allowed them to spend decades chasing tomorrows. These
unsuspecting children started embracing first things first. They had
only themselves to look up to—small children, all hailing from
different ethnic groups, trying to find their place in a cruel world
for the first time. They started embracing diversity before that word
event made it to their vocabulary. They started taking care of
themselves. They became each other’s’ brother’s keepers. They made no
excuses. When it came time for learning A BCs, they wrote in the sands
with their fingers. When few education materials were made available,
they shared them. Two pupils would share one pencil by breaking it
into two pieces. They would also write notes in halved exercise books.
Those formative years and experiences followed them to Kenya, a
country that will always be synonymous with making the majority of the
Jesh el Amer into the strong young men they have now become.
In 2001, the world heard and saw the full weight and the cruel nature
of the Sudanese civil war from the stories Jesh el Amer had begun
sharing.
Upon settling in America, the American Red Cross acknowledged the
plight of the Lost Boys, describing them as “young children who fled
their villages in Sudan in the 1980s to escape slaughter at the hands
of Islamist government troops.”
According to this incredible humanitarian agency, “these young men,
without parents or elders to guide them, set out on an extraordinary
journey across Africa wilderness—a journey that took them to Ethiopia,
back to Sudan and to refugee camps in Kenya. In 2000 and 2001, the
United States government agreed to allow 3600 of them to begin new
lives in America.”
“Throughout their journey,” added the Red Cross, “thousands of Lost
Boys died along the way—they drowned, were eaten by wild animals, shot
by military forces or overcome by hunger, dehydration and fatigue.
Thousands of others survived to tell the story. It is a story about
the courage of these young refugees and the kindness of those who have
helped them. However, it also is a story about all refugees who travel
through unimaginable conditions and survive against all odds.”
Across America, harrowing stories that were once repressed because of
the stoic nature of the boys became impossible to miss in the media;
enough to bring tears to the eyes of many even the most hardened of
journalists.
But for the most part, the Jesh el Amer did not want people to spend
time sympathizing with their plight. Their focus turned instead to
those they had left behind. Few months after their arrival in North
America, many started working, and began extending the reach of
benevolence to relatives they had left behind in refugee camps,
assisting them in every way possible. Even before they had begun
figuring out how they were going navigate the newly uncertain worlds
in their adopted nations, the Jesh el Amer already had on their minds
the plight of their fellow countrymen and women. Through advocacy they
educated friends, answered questions related to war and peace.
The Jesh el Amer also made the pursuit of education one of the top
priorities. They also started raising families of their own. Their
undying work ethic and the desire for education, values they have
clung to throughout life, came to mean the world for them. Last month
as CBS News was doing a follow up news story on the 12th anniversary
of Lost Boys and Girls coming to America, one of the people in the
video called the story of Lost Boys “one of the most successful
resettlement stories in U.S. history.” But what the CBS did not point
out fully to their viewers was the picture of that very success story.
Of course there have been challenges among the group. But on the
education front, the Jesh el Amer have proved themselves worthy of
respect in all fields of human endeavor given the improvable journey.
Many have gone to prestigious private and public universities in
Africa, USA, Canada, Europe and Australia, with some going to Harvard
University, the prestigious Ivy League institution, here in the U.S.
They have advanced degrees in Sciences, Business, and Economics. They
have graduates holding MDs, MBAs and Ph.Ds.
The unspoken truth to the story is that when seen in larger historical
contexts, the Jesh el Amer success is as much a testament to the
resilience of the human spirit as it is a rebuke to the dark forces of
marginalization of the old Sudan. It is a poetic justice for a
generation who started learning at older age only to end up with
advanced college degrees obtained outside places of their births—a
cool irony so to speak. It is a message to the world that threw those
lifelines in the course of long struggle that someday, these tested
leaders will contribute to the world of their peers whether through
advances in arts, science, business, economics, medicine, history,
literature or journalism.
The story of Jesh el Amer has served as a triumph of hope over
despair, allowing young children to move from a country and an era
where power used to flow from the barrels of guns or bombs to a
country where we they now hope the power of the pen shall be mightier.
In life, the Jesh el Amer have been tested numerous times. In 25
years, the Jesh el Amer are believed to have seen much share of pain
and suffering than many people see in a lifetime. For many of them
none was like the pain and suffering they saw after losing brothers,
close friends and relatives along the way. The Jesh el Amer have also
borne the brunt of intra-politics of the liberation movement when some
them became caught in the crosscurrents of the split of the 1991.
For those whom the split hit so close to home, none is like the
betrayal they saw when some of their relatives or parents were wiped
out from the face of the earth simply because of the passions of
politics that split the SPLA/SPLM—atrocities that resulted in the
deaths of hundreds of thousands of women and children either at gun
points or in the direct aftermath—atrocities, which by the standards
in South Sudan where human life is so cheap that it could be taken any
minute with impunity became considered massacres but which by the
world’s yardstick, a genocide writ-large. But the Jesh el Amer met
that test with dignified composure and resolve. They never split. They
lived together, in diversity, knowing that justice may not come in
this lifetime but maybe in the next.
And just when you thought this group of young men, who never had the
luxury of childhood would have a little break from life, boy, were you
so wrong. After independence, they are worrying and fearful like
millions of South Sudanese because of the uncertainties rocking the
new nation. For many South Sudanese, the hopes and aspirations of a
better future that many sacrificed for are being betrayed by the
widening gap between the original vision and the current level of
governing. But there is hope. South Sudan could benefit from the
lessons of the pioneering journey of Jesh el Amer, whose story has
become a symbol of hope, liberation, courage and leadership.
Lessons
After a quarter century, it is time to ask what to make of our entire
journey experience, the liberation experience if you will. And, what
better way to start that conversation than with the story of Jesh el
Amer, especially on the day South Sudanese are marking a major
milestone with the May 16th salute, the SPLA 30th anniversary of the
day that started it all, the day we have kept alive the memory of
those brave soldiers who have fallen. I feel it is appropriate to
write about the Jesh el Amer experience on this anniversary because I
think raising a nation is like raising a child. And leaders who excel
at building great nations are like parents who rock at parenting.
In fact the United Nations once said that “the progress of a nation is
measured by how well it treats or takes care of its children.” So
there you have it South Sudan. How are you taking care of your
children?
By now it is self-evident that one of the legacies of the north-south
civil war will always be how innocent children were propelled to the
heart of the civil war. Inevitably, the legacy of 1987 became one of
life’s worst lessons: that of death or separation of children and
their parents. And while experience has shown that the reason history
is believed to repeat itself is because failed to fully learn from it,
it is repeating before our very eyes. Small children are dying. In
January 2015, we will mark the 10th anniversary of the CPA—the very
document of political and economic state craft which gave us the
little freedom our people are enjoying. But the question that many
people have been asking, using the last 8 years as a backdrop, is what
has our liberation experience really taught us in the short post war
period?
Have we prevented the deaths of innocent children and women during the
last 8 years? If not what does that say about self-government as it
relates to the potent criticism of governance as was long claimed by
the Jallabas? And if our children are being left to their own devices
or to die after independence, then what does that say about the very
SPLA/ SPLM promise that protected children as custodians of
liberation, the very the basis that allowed for creation of Jesh el
Amer? By the way, I should note that in the SPLA divisions, there were
Jesh el Amer and some of them were sent to abroad for training.
As it later came to be known, the move to let children walk to
Ethiopia was strategic for two reasons: first, for security reasons
since it prepared the way for children, women and elderly to advance
to safety. The mighty enemy in Khartoum was intent on inflicting
incalculable damage as it later became clear, and, second, for young
children to begin learning and be stewards of the liberation should
the war drag on for so long. Simply put, the revolution was visionary
in its approach to the war of liberation.
South Sudanese could learn or draw several lessons from the epic 25
years of this pioneering journey by recalling the Jesh el Amer
experience. But I will focus on 4 broad lessons only. These lessons
will draw on political, social-cultural, moral and educational
investments made along the way.
The first lesson of the 25th anniversary of the 1987 escape by Jesh el
Amer is for our political leaders who have wasted the last 8 years
trying to unlearn the political vision or the experience that
undergirded much of our revolutionary struggle instead of using it to
shape a true national character. It is a riddle of a brave experiment
in revolutionary politics that was waged flawlessly only to be dwarfed
by lack of courage in leaders who felt scared to embrace and adapt to
the changing landscape of self-government, undercutting the concept
that a well fought liberation struggle is always a sure predictor of
how good a country will be. We have learned a nation needs more than
better ideas; it needs leaders who are selfless, who prize competence,
accountability and rule of law over favoritism.
These days it looks like everything crashes and burns with the
leadership of our country. Many in positions of power are obsessing
with picking the low hanging fruits instead of striving to lay the
lasting foundation for critical institutions and infrastructure— the
bedrock principles of a free society.
The substandard and underperformance we have seen among our leadership
over these last few years has caused millions to wonder how best ideas
such as the SPLM’s, which were wrapped in a grand vision could be
derailed in very short time by those who saw all the staggering costs
South Sudanese paid in blood and treasure. When the SPLA took up arms,
the basic intention was to improve things for the better for the
masses.
At its inception, the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement, now the
governing party in South Sudan made some visionary pledges with the
creation of SPLA and Jesh el Amer—two enduring institutions that will
always be associated with the legacy of the north-south civil war; two
endruign institutions known for cutting their teeth on principled
leadership and patriotism.
The Jesh el Amer became self-made leaders early on, in the absence of
their parents and community or traditional leaders. Growing up under
the tutelage of iconic leaders plus a few primary school teachers and
caretakers like Pieng Deng Kuol, the Jesh el Amer have come of age and
there is little doubt that they can be called upon as the rightful
leaders and authors of this next chapter in our nation’s history.
Almost every major commander of the SPLA passed through Panyido and
had word of advice for Jesh el Amer. Late Dr. John Garang, and William
Nyuon Bany first addressed the Jesh el Amer.
Although all the SPLM leaders have not lived to witness the final
contributions of these children, John Garang, the revolutionary icon
and founding father of South Sudan, was able to see a glimpse of how
his vision paid off in the spirit of these young people. First, in
1988, Garang addressed the newly arrived Jesh el Amer in what was then
an almost inhabitable place called Panyido, Ethiopia. I remember
vividly the day Jesh el Amer had to repeat in unison as Dr. Garang was
taking on the task of teacher-in-chief, reciting from megaphone all
the 26 English alphabets (ABC to Z) as Jesh el Amer were chasing
convoys on their way to Zing. In 1989, Garang and his deputy William
Nyuon Bany came back to address Jesh el Amer. The two leaders were
surprised to see how those young children had transformed forests into
livable habitats, with makeshift schools for learning ABCDs.The two
leaders came to motivate Jesh el Amer to learn and be future doctors,
engineers and leaders. The Jesh el Amer could feel the genuine
feelings and aspirations those two men had for them and the would-be
nation.
One year before his passing, the late John Garang came to see his
children for the last time. He left an important meeting in Nigeria in
August 2004 after word got to him that the Jesh el Amer had invited
him at the their first reunion after coming to Phoenix, Arizona, USA.
On that summer day in the valley of the Sun, Garang brought the Jesh
el Amer to their feet by delivering one of the most edifying
speeches—a real piece of history—parts of which later appeared in the
hallmark address at the CPA signing at Nyayo Stadium in Nairobi,
Kenay. Garang confided in the Lost Boys and Girls many things as he
was watching these patriotic children sing revolutionary songs not at
ages 7-11 but as young men and women, his face spelling pride and
wonder at times.
“I have come to wake you up and remind you that your day has come,
tomorrow is already here and so take over leadership of your Movement,
take over leadership of the SPLM/A; you have very little time left to
prepare yourselves to take over that leadership in whatever fields: in
agriculture, carpentry, architecture, medicine, politics, economics,
in raising a family…all these require leadership and all contribute to
building the New Sudan for which we have fought and sacrificed for
over the last twenty one years,” he told them.
>From reciting ABCD in 1988 in Panyido to giving the “Establishing
Anchor in History” speechat the Lost Boys and Girls conference in
Phoenix, Arizona, USA, in August 2004, the journey came full circle
and I think Dr. Garang left this world knowing that the Jesh el Amer
he loved so much, the same eternal optimists as he was, would remain
clear-eyed about the future and would someday make our country proud.
Speaking at the same conference in 2004, Dr. Garang told the Lost Boys
and Girls:
“I appreciate and applaud your tenacity and courage throughout the
difficult years of our struggle as a group and I applaud your personal
struggle as individuals. I salute your great spirit of survival and
steadfastness. And I commend you for the firm commitment to the cause
of our people despite all the hardships and suffering you have gone
through. I congratulate your leadership and for having been good
ambassadors for Southern Sudan, for the New Sudan and for the SPLM/A.
Your Movement had always wanted to prepare you to be the future
leaders of our nation. This is still the purpose; you are the
generation that shall develop the New Sudan. Even though the
difficulties and events of our struggle have separated many of you
from the Movement and some have scattered all over the world yet the
aim is not lost.”
But have we learned? We have learned in the 8 years since the CPA, the
leaders have failed to stabilize the country. They have failed to
deliver much needed security. It is like there is a new phenomenon in
South Sudan called death by independence. Countless women and children
have died needlessly as a result of violence. In all the social,
political and economic lives of the country, the leadership risks
marginalizing the masses they were fighting to free.
During the war, South Sudanese would do more with less. Let’s call
that frugality. The SPLA was practicing it; fighting mighty enemy with
less resources. All the civilians were practicing it, fending off
hunger with the little food rations there were. But fast forward to
the last 8 years and you would be shocked to figure out how much we
have wasted on personal greed, all at the expense of our fellow
citizens who are vulnerable, not to mention institutions and
infrastructure which are woefully inadequate or lacking at all. In
those days, you would feel the genuine camaraderie between soldiers
and civilians especially the children. It was patriotic at best.
Because the SPLA soldiers knew they were fighting for something larger
than themselves—the liberty and the dignity of all fellow South
Sudanese. The SPLA made sure the elderly, women and children were
safe. The famous refrain from leaders was: this liberation is being
fought because of children. Now, the children are dying at the hands
of South Sudanese. What a shame!
Policy making towards citizens especially the children has been
lacking. Feelings of mistrust, of powerlessness, and helplessness, and
disunity in the country are now more palpable than ever; the cause of
which being intolerance which is fed by mindless leaders lacking
directions and a public wanting to fill that same void. With all the
hate campaign now prevalent in South Sudan, you wonder why Jesh are
not called upon to share their experience as the nation sets out on
healing the scars of the civil war.
But here is hope in what the government could still do to support the
historic name of Jesh el Amer. We have learned the historic name of
Jesh el Amer will not be retired anytime soon. Instead it will inspire
future generations of children around service and leadership. The Red
Army Foundation was recently inaugurated in Juba. Aremd with the zeal
and heart of John Garang, all Jesh el Amer everywhere could do justice
to the name by joining those at home to push our law makers to create
Jesh el Day.
The parliament could enact the Jesh el Amer Child Potential Act of
2013, a law that could potentially impact the welfare of the African
child in far reaching ways: it could launch building of landmark
features such as parks and recreations, playgrounds, as well as
ensuring there is a frame work f or developing nutritious programs and
school lunch programs for school children.
The second lesson is that the society could learn to embrace the past
and future by taking a leaf from the philosophical import that is the
Jesh el Amer experience. The men and women leading our mea culpa (the
national peace, healing and reconciliation) ought to take a leaf from
the philosophical import that is the Jesh el Amer experience. It is an
experience that if well harnessed could help repair decades’ worth of
historical damage done to society.
In general the experience could be of great help for our general
society, which is struggling with the aftermath of a long civil war
which has left many communities fragmented and unable to heal faster.
When Jesh el Amer ventured into the wilderness, nothing had really
prepared them for their journey except being armed with instincts, the
values of egalitarian societies in which they were partially raised,
and perhaps the survival instincts of once fiercely unique societies
known for their warrior skills.
But throughout journeys, and in tough times, the Jesh el Amer have
remained steadfast, holding on to the best of tradition and cultural
value system and folklore. They drew from the infinite wisdom of their
grandparents, employing the beautiful storytelling skills of their
parents and grandparents--stories that were once handed down at
firesides of once stable societies---skills children learned at the
heels and knees of their loving mothers and fathers. But above all,
they were sustained by their Christian faith.
In a tribalized society such as ours, maybe embracing the children who
have lived diversity amid adversity, who have the humility and the
courage of conviction and the vision could serve as a starting point
for a national conversation that has been sorely lacking. Maybe that
could help quell violence and set the republic on a path to
prosperity.
This is not to say there are no downsides to the story as some Jesh el
Amer have fed violence. For example, David Yau Yau, who was in Dimo,
is now killing innocent people and was recently alleged to have
captured the strategic town of Jebel Boma.
But there is 99.99 percent of former Jesh el Amer that hate violence,
who could potentially be taped for their social capital. Their ideas
and insights cuts across cultures and they are needed now more than
ever. They understand diversity better. They have lived it all their
lives. It is about understanding; it is about respect and tolerance.
Diversity and inclusiveness is a prerequisite for nation building.
Their capacity for appreciation and understanding and recognition of
all the unique attributes of 63 ethnic groups in South Sudan puts them
above all else. They have the willpower, the wherewithal of a
fraternity, the intellect and the emotional intelligence to heal the
scars of civil war.
For a nation that is deteriorating, oscillating between euphoria of
the independence on the one hand and feelings of disillusionment and
betrayal on the other, few leaders with ears and hearts for the good
of the society of the nation would be better served by turning to this
group of young men and women.
The third lesson has to do with re-creating our moral code as a
nation. This lesson is both for men and women of the press as well as
religious leaders and institutions whose roles remain vital as far as
crafting the moral foundation of our new nation. The two could work in
concert to preach the need for our shared moral values as a nation.
These groups could create the urge for reliving the holistic
experience and the story of our suffering as a people. It ought to be
about social justice. At the outset, they need to drive home the
message that throughout the years South Sudanese have witnessed the
generosity of the world and that it is now time for us as a free
society to start thinking hard about taking care of our own people;
the most vulnerable and the downtrodden among us.
South Sudanese, like other peoples of the world, are a historically
exceptional people. In their cry for justice and freedom, they, too,
became influenced by the biblical story of Exodus. Who will forget the
edifying work of the church in the lives of our people, under all
sorts of conditions and trees imaginable, in both displaced and
refugee camps? Throughout their long years of suffering our people
have drawn solace from the pages of the Bible. Faith was a vital
source of sustenance for Jesh el Amer throughout their journey and
remains so even to this day.
Like many who have seen their fair share of suffering, South Sudanese
have invoked prophetic imaginations of their own. They have read and
talked about the verses from Isaiah 18, where God speaks highly of His
tall and beloved people with smooth and dark skin along the Nile
River. Like the Israelites, South Sudanese have talked of their
promised land, too. President Salva President Salva was called Joshua
following the untimely death of South Sudan’s Founding Father, Dr.
John Garang de Mabior.
This past month of April, I learned a lot from the Jewish holiday of
Passover. It is a celebration that takes 7-8 days here in the United
States. As I was watching the movie The Ten Commandments, I was struck
by the line Moses had for his people while I nthe desert, when he told
them, “There is no freedom without the law.” Surely, this should be
read to our leaders who should know better that the freedom we got
less than two years ago will not be within reach for millions of our
citizens without the rule of law. This is where the media and our
religious leaders ought to throw down the gauntlet and push the
government to live up to its ideals of peace, justice and prosperity
for all.
During that same week I also came across one great article titled “The
Exodus Effect.” The article was penned by the Rabbi Irving Greenberg,
a prominent leader among the Jewish people in the United States, who
said the story of Exodus is “the most influential historical event of
all time”. In it he wrote,
“When Jews observe Passover, they are commemorating what is arguably
the most important event of all time--the Exodus from Egypt. If for no
other reason than the fact that the Exodus directly or indirectly
generated many of the important events cited by other groups, this is
the event of human history.”
The Rabbi then added: “The secret of the impact of the Exodus is that
it does not present itself as ancient history, a one-time event. Since
the key way to remember the Exodus is reenactment, the event offers
itself as an ongoing experience in human history. As free people
relive the Exodus, it turns memory into moral dynamic. The experience
of slavery that breaks and crushes slaves does not destroy free
people. It evokes feelings of repulsion and determination to help
others escape that state.
Exodus morality meant giving justice to the weak and the poor. Honest
weights and measures, interest-free loans to the poor, leaving part of
the crops in the field for the stranger, the orphan, and the widow,
treating the alien stranger as a native citizen--these are all
applications of the Exodus principle to living in this world.”
The lesson from this is for South Sudanese to start hewing to our
moral standards that define us while sharing our story with younger
generations. We can begin reliving our story by applying an all hands
on decks approach to sharing and shaping the character of our nation
by communicating our values in both traditionally powerful story
telling fashion as well as through modern technologies.
We now live in the age of infinite technologies. We are blessed with
the internet technology. The power of technology and social media has
aided in the collective memories of Jesh el Amer and their childhood.
Their childhood photos are now immortalized in a digital database on
the internet.
A couple of years ago, pictures of Jesh el Amer childhood, which were
taken in 1989 in Panyido, started showing up on social networking
site, Facebook. The result was the work of an American Researcher who
retrieved them from Ethiopia.
“The records from this childhood were nearly destroyed. But an
American researcher, Kirk Felsman, recovered them in 2004 from a
warehouse in Ethiopia. Eventually, the documents were scanned and
turned over in digital form to the AZ Lost Boys Center in Phoenix,
where about 600 of the Lost Boys now live. A group of volunteers
worked to organize the documents in a way that makes them easy to
search,” The New York Times reported back in 2010.
“These personal war histories can now be ordered at a Web site
(lostboysreunited.org) that has received thousands of hits from
countries around the world,” added The New York Times.
Those pictures quickly started transporting Jesh el Amer back to the
80s, times when they were not even sure they were that young. Many of
those who retrieved online photos of their younger selves couldn’t
believe they were that young. But then photos don’t lie.
Now, a time capsule of their lives —a virtual tableau if you
will—graces Facebook thanks to one famous page which was created by a
fellow South Sudanese who is probably a former member of Jesh el Amer.
The page is called “We Were Children (26,000 Lost Boys) Unaccompanied
Minors of South Sudan.” Its goal is to “promote awareness about what
happened to Lost Boys and how {that} should not be allowed to happen
anywhere in the world.” It is a page full of pictures that were taken
in the most unimaginable conditions, while travelling or sitting or
sleeping throughout their long journeys. The page adds, “We say never
again.”
Finally, this whole experience would be incomplete without mentioning
the people of the world who stood with the Jesh el Amer in their hours
of need, which brings me to the fourth lesson: the need for Jesh el
Amer to imaginatively leap into the future of global partnerships
vis-à-vis the nation building of south Sudan. The Jesh el Amer will
forever be grateful to members of global community who deserve
recognition for being with them through thick and thin, and without
whom Jesh el Amer would not have made those stellar accomplishments.
Take for example the education they have obtained, all paid for in
foreign money, without a single dim from the country of their birth.
The closer they actually came to getting help from South Sudan was
years ago when the government was approached to see if it could pay
off some of the student loans owed by Jesh el Amer, just as an attempt
to free up some of the graduates to go back to the homeland in order
to help in the rebuilding efforts but so far I think the request has
fallen on deaf ears.
All in all, creating solid relationships around the globe will be
crucial now more than ever because South Sudan is still a nation mired
in a sea of challenges. There is critical need for lasting investments
in education because even with the few Jesh el Amer with advanced
degrees, there are millions thirsting for knowledge. South Sudan has
large populations of young people.
In fact, young people make up over 70 percent of the population of
South Sudan, according to a great new book The Power of Creative
Reasoning by Dr. Lual A. Deng.
It is for these reasons that the Jesh el Amer must join forces with
friends and create a global or a national campaign centered on
education and other social welfare programs, with the aim of investing
in young people who are the future of South Sudan.
Since 2005 the world has been eyeing South Sudan with skepticism after
the donor pledges made in Oslo, Norway. And that is perhaps because
they were signs that we have started the country on a wrong foot.
It is even getting scarier for a young nation that will come of age in
the shadow of the Millennium Development Goals which are set for 2015.
With woefully inadequate institutions to show for, these campaigns
could be the last key left to save the new republic from this crisis
of governance.
The challenge for sustaining those global connections on behalf of
South Sudan will rest on the shoulders of all young people in the not
too distant future. The Jesh el Amer will need to cultivate
relationships and mentoring so as to be ready for the challenge.
In the meantime the government of South Sudan could use former Jesh el
Amer who have come home with knowledge acquired from across the globe
to develop both the political and economic systems which are
This article is both a reflection on childhood that was spent on the
frontiers of refuge as well as a distillation of the Jesh el Amer
experience, which should help South Sudan.
While Jesh el Amer do not see themselves as heroes, it will be an
understatement to say they have left footprints in the sands of South
Sudanese liberation struggle. But this story is not so much about them
anymore as it is about the young people of South Sudan, including the
children who were born right after January 9, 2005. They should own
this story.
For Jesh el Amer, the epic struggle for self-determination which South
Sudanese witnessed as it became due on July 9, 2011, is an 8
million-person- story that will always be at the heart of the
country’s founding. It is the story written and cemented by the blood
of our fallen heroes and heroines. It is the story about all young
people. It is the story of liberation. It is the quintessential New
Sudan experience. But it is an experience that is getting dishonored
every day as our leaders fail to address all the national security and
economic challenges which should not be causing us headache this far
in the brave liberation experiment we started 30 years ago.
In recalling the Jesh el Amer experience, their epic life and
sacrifices, I dream that 26,000 balloons will someday brighten the
skies of Juba or Bor Town, signaling the return of Jesh el Amer,with a
message of peace for all South Sudan.
Joseph Deng Garang is Co-founder and President of The New Sudan
Vision. E-mail: [email protected]
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