A mixed week of adventures before heading home

I left Juba on a Monday afternoon, this time with a smile on my face. It had been much more difficult to leave Rumbek! But I had some adventures to look forward to, firstly with my fellow Rumbekistanians Ollie & Luciana, who were coincidentally flying into Nairobi the same day. We visit Ollie's brand new nephew, Ewan, gorged ourselves on an amazing sushi dinner (and it wasn't just stuffing ourselves with amazing food that made us happy, it was the fact that we randomly ran into two other Rumbekistanians, Guilio and Gabri, who were also dining out in town before heading home to Italy for Christmas) and generally wandered around in amazement at the shiny shop within the Junction Shopping Centre.

The next day I left for Nakuru for a few days with my lovely man Kelvin. He lives in a quiet little neighbourhood, randomly called All Nations, with some friendly neighbours. Mostly women with families, they take good care of him - checking to make sure he's ok, cooking for him and inviting him around for company. One of his neighbours even cooked us breakfast the next morning before we headed off to Nyahururu to visit his family. He had spoken long about me meeting them, although I wasn't sure if it was a good idea considering I was going home and didn't know when I would be coming back. We stopped off at Thomson's Falls on the way, and though it is a beautiful spot, you feel very much a tourist there (due to tribally-costumed-for-tourists Africans hassling you) it's not really a place of remaining wilderness.

I was surprised when the matatu dropped us off on the roadside in the middle of nowhere. From here it was a bumpy journey inland on boda-bodas. It turns out that Kelvin's parents are IDPs from the 2007 Kenyan election violence who live on government-allocated land. I knew he sent money to them regularly - in fact a large chunk of his earnings go to his parents, mostly to support his younger brothers in school and whenever anyone is unwell - but I had no real idea of their situation.

When we arrived, I could see that they had very little. Their house was a simple wooden structure with a blue zinc roof, located on a cold, windy, open plain; like all the others in their scattered community, it was constructed with materials only recently given out by the government. Given the violence was five years ago, it filled me with dread to think that they had been living for such a long time in temporary shelters. They'd had to build the house themselves and then find the materials to complete it, which essentially meant bulding the walls with plastic sheeting.

Together with the house, they had been allocated a small plot of land on which to do some small-scale farming. Potatoes and peas were clearly a large part of this, as on arrival they treated us to a  delicious githeri-like mix of potato, beans, maize and peas, plus chicken, salad and chapati, all lovingly cooked by the family and neighbours. We were treated like royalty, and it seemed that everyone had come out to see the 'long-lost son' and his mzungu girlfriend ... so I felt a bit sheepish, but still very welcome.

His parents, his sister and her new baby Elvis (no link to the Presley family; she just liked the name! She was very surprised when I told her about the great man) were lovely, and her two younger brothers I took a liking to immediately. We played a bit of football with them out near the community water point; the new ball that Kelvin had brought as a present was certainly highly prized. The kids from the community were at first attracted by the game, or by collecting water, but I soon turned into a bit of an attraction myself. I don't think there are many mzungus this far out in the countryside.

It was bearably cold out there on the open plain when the sun was out, but as soon as it started sinking, so did my body temperature. We spent the evening sitting inside, huddled around two charcoal stoves while dinner was being cooked, and while I couldn't understand a lot of what was being said, it was really fun. It was just so nice to see how everyone valued this time, especially how much they loved having Kelvin home, and I could see they spent many nights doing this together. He was equally happy to be there.

Our sleeping quarters were a small hut just downhill from the main house - which I felt very guilty about staying in, as it seemed to be the boys' bedroom! Kelvin's sister, baby Elvis and I were given the priority for sleeping there - it was the warmest room and we were the most important guests - and with the piles of blankets inside, we were toasty.

The next day the four of us returned to Nakuru - me, together with Kelvin's sister and Elvis; Kelvin and his cousin together in separate matatus (damn you, side-of-the-road location! Not enough space for all us in one vehicle!). I spent the afternoon hanging out with his sister and her neighbour's kids, waiting for Kelvin to come back from the clinic - where he had been diagnosed with malaria AND typhoid. After spending the night shivering and feverish, early next morning I took him to the clinic where he was admitted into hospital and put on a drip. The medicine that the clinic had given him was completely maladministered. We spent the whole day in the hospital; his sister came around again with more food - the hospital didn't provide any and I gathered that it was typical for families to bring it themselves (and they probably normally couldn't afford to pay for in-hospital meals). It was a really sad way to spend our last day together; but I was happy to at least be able to keep him company in that dark room. It would have been pretty lonely there that night.

I felt pretty terrible leaving that day, but I had to return to Nairobi to fly home the following afternoon. I was so relieved when Ollie randomly called me for a night out - some cheering up was just what I needed!

After a fun evening of drinking and dancing with Ollie and her usual rounds of all the people she knows, I enjoyed one last leisurely morning in the garden of the beautiful Margarita House before heading to the airport. It had been a week of mixed feelings, disappointments and unexpected happenings, but it was a good transition home from South Sudan. Despite the hospital visit, I had really enjoyed my time with Kelvin and his family, despite knowing that I might not see them again - at least in the near future.

And so it was with a smile that I boarded the plane for only 17 more hours of flying to go. The concept of being home for Christmas seemed to overshadow the sadness I felt at leaving and the people I was leaving behind. It had been a long, but definitely challenging and enjoyable (and frustrating!) 15 months in South Sudan.

So what next? Only time will tell. Would I go back? Currently: no. After a break from the place? Possibly ... if you paid me enough!

A last hurrah in Rumbek

I've had so much fun over the last few weeks. As I write this from Juba where I'm spending my last week in South Sudan, I've finally had a chance to sit down and think about it all. My head is full of a mix of sadness, regret, relief, excitement and happiness as I count down the days until I go home.

I'm in Juba participating in a UNICEF workshop which has been really contstructive; but I've felt a bit removed from it, knowing that I'm participating in future plans for something I won't be involved in - well, not in my current role.

The sadness is for the people and the place I've left behind  in Rumbek - my khawaja buddies, Oxfam workmates and colleagues from other NGOs, the basketball boys and my neighbours, plus the communities in the different towns and villages in which we worked. I'm also going to miss the public health team in Maban, who I worked very little with during the last six months of my time in South Sudan, but whom became my colleagues and friends and who I shared a very difficult transition with - from a development situation to an emergency one. There are the lovely staff in the Juba office - both khawaja and locals; many of the international staff have been my social lifeline when I've been in Juba, and everyone has been so friendly and welcoming whenever I've passed through. I'll definitely also miss my good buddy from uni, Rach, who has been working in Juba for the UN - and was my partner in crime whenever I was in the big city.

I've also met a number of Kenyans, South Sudanese and Ugandans in Juba who have become my friends, ranging from the staff at the Intra Africa hotel, where I spent a lot of my riverside time, to members of the Ugandan community that lived near our guesthouse.

One of the Kenyan guys is also my gorgeous man, with whom I will be spending a week in Kenya before I go home. I will definitely miss him, so much so that I'm contemplating getting a job back in South Sudan or Kenya. I'm torn between working in Australia and being a 'normal' person again, and working back in the aid world - where he is - with which I'm quite disillusioned. Only time will tell whether it's going be possible.

During my last weekend in Juba, the office threw a Christmas party for staff, we went to see a Congolese band, I hung by the pool at Jebel Lodge with my friend Maie, and then hit up a party at Central Pub. It was all very fun and topped off with dinner together with three lovely Oxfam colleagues at Notos restaurant, somewhere I'd never been but had the best food I'd ever eaten in Juba. Sweet!

As for the weeks before, I had such a busy time trying to finish everything, but a super fun time with the crew. We farewelled one of our Italian friends, Fabio, with an Italian meal and some nice wine at Safari Style with the Rumbek khawaja crew - including some visiting and resident Italians who were part of the plot! Of course the night ended up with us in the pool.

We regularly danced our butts off on Friday nights at the recently discovered Lulu Bar within the UNMISS compound, where I discovered where all a whole community of khawajas were hiding out ... why you'd want to live your life working overseas but never leave the safety of your compound to discover the country you're working on, beats me.

And of course we killed our boredom with days and nights at Safari Style, watching rugby, watching movies, chilling by the pool on weekends, having a beer or sharing a meal at the bar, and most enjoyably having brunch together on a Saturday morning, often nursing a hangover and laughing over the previous night's shenanigans.

For my last weekend in Rumbek, we finally got around to doing some things we'd planned for ages ... all combined into two days! We threw a Rumbek Market Wear party for my farewell, where everyone's costumes had to be procured from the market - with some hilarious consequences, particulary due to the awesome combination of bling formal wear and ultra-short Dinka mini-dresses. We had decorated the pool area with Chinese lanterns and candles, and it looked beautiful, and gone on various adventures to buy our costumes for the evening. Couldn't have wished for a more fun send-off with such a great bunch of people!

We even made sushi on Sunday afternoon, which involved taking over Safari's kitchen (much to the bemusement of Macharia the chef, and Daniel the waiter, who had both never seen sushi before and who were clearly wondering what this strange food concotion actually was and why anyone would do that to rice!). It had been an idea long in the making, but upon the eating part, one we agreed was a rather genius idea. A long, lazy afternoon of swimming and eating ensued, a perfect way to finish my last weekend in town.

My last evening was made all the more special with a home cooked meal at the IRC compound by Mags and Becker, together with Ollie. They have been three of my closest companions in Rumbek and I will definitely miss them! A few wines, some pasta, some chocolate, fun music and random discussions were definitely the order of the evening.

Come Tuesday morning it was a bit of a teary farewell, with me running crazily up and down to finish things off and get around to everyone - Oxfam, basketball buddies and neighbours alike - for goodbyes. Ollie and Luciana came to the airport to see me off, which was lovely - even though I knew I was going to see them for one last fun evening in Nairobi a week later! Even Bertrand turned up to see me off, the sweet Frenchman he is, but as I'd been put on an earlier flight I just missed out on giving him a goodbye hug.

I must admit I had tears rolling down my cheeks as I looked back one last time before Rumbek faded away into the distance. My second home was now behind me. But once I had dried my tears, I had a few days in Juba, a few days in Nairobi and homecoming  all to look forward to. The tears were soon replaced with a smile.

The official booting out

I finally found out today from our HR department - and that took a while! - that my contract would not be extended beyond the end of 2012.

HR to Jacqui: "What we have been told is that the Programme cannot afford international positions now and 5 Juba positions out of the 15 normally in the structure have been made redundant, including both WASH positions. Your position in Juba was among those phased out, and from the look of things, when your contract ends at the end of December, it will not be renewed."

Boo!

I kinda guessed it, and in many ways I don't think I would have agreed to extending anyway, but I've got mixed feelings about it - I'm excited to go home, and I'm frustrated and tired, but it would be nice to see out the current WASH project into which I've put a lot of time and energy.
Our organisation is going through a process of cost cutting - due to South Sudan being the most expensive Oxfam operation in all 75 countries that we work in around the world! Woah! It figures... inflation is massive, we're doing an emergency WASH operation for refugees near the border, transporting masses of materials up there (sometimes flying them directly from Oxford - what the?!) by plane and barge (expensive!), flying people in and out on leave and short-term contracts... etc etc. Plus we have a very expensive operating environment for our head office in Juba - which is only a support office, and isn't implementing any programs in country. We are paying a lot of rent (someone told me $30,000/month for an office and 2 guesthouses) to house staff there. So Juba is being targeted for a bit of slashing across the board.

On top of that, there are international staff that are more expensive to keep. Like me. And our Livelihoods coordinator. And our Deputy Country Director (whose position is rather redundant within our structure). We have higher costs for lodging and transport, and higher salaries generally

So, we're all going. And being replaced by South Sudanese staff.

Which is great - we should be building the capacity of national staff and putting them in more senior roles so they gain the knowledge and experience of managing staff and programs within a well-known NGO. But ... where ARE all of these qualified South Sudanese? There hasn't been a functional education system in this country for a loooong time ... if ever. People may have been educated in Uganda or Kenya, perhaps in a refugee camp somewhere, but this level of education is far from suitable for the type of staff they're looking for. Some have worked in government, or in NGOs previously, but the calibre of people we're seeking is really lacking.

We couldn't recruit a project manager for our Rumbek Public Health program, despite three attempts. So how are we going to find a South Sudanese to take on my technical advisor role, or other more technical roles?  The other thing that makes me concerned is that with my departure, there are no technical WASH people in the country program - besides those working on the emergency, who have their hands rather full up there in Maban. Our previous WASH Coordinator in Juba did not make it past his 3 month probation; he just wasn't good enough.

And lastly, they're not retaining me at a crucial time in our project, with only three months remaining. The bulk of the work is yet to be completed, but they're not keeping me on to assist the team to implement it. Despite repeated questions from both myself and our program manager, which have fallen on deaf ears, my contract is simply not being renewed. The team can do it, but technical assistance is definitely required. Our project manager is trying his best - and is doing ok - but he's essentially a Public Health Promoter doing a job beyond his capability.

There will also be no handing over of my role to anyone. Normally you'd have a Jacqui replacement recruited a few weeks before she left, to work together with her and learn the ropes. Now there's just going to be a big gap. Until they recruit someone. If they actually do; and I'm worried they won't.

I have also invested a lot of my time and effort into this project, and so have my team. I enjoy working with them, and I feel it would be a good thing to finish the project together with them. I almost feel like a bit of deserter, and while they'll *hopefully* get it all done, they will need as much help as possible to achieve it. But I can't do anything about it. Kinda frustrating.

So: I have around a month remaining before I go home for Xmas ... and I'm going to enjoy every last minute of it.

Frazzle Rock

I’ve been back at work in Rumbek for four days now. FOUR. And already I want to leave. Or throw my computer out the window. Or scream like a crazed lunatic. Or punch something (or someone). All of the above? Why not?

It’s a good thing I took a couple of weeks off. My ten days at home, though short, were so great: weddings, surprise engagements, new babies, walks on the beach, good food and wine. Some time in the sun was just what I needed. I had become a grumpy, short tempered, frazzled Jacqui. I don’t like her. She’s not really me. But she comes out when ‘death by a thousand cuts’ reaches a certain point. And so she had to leave Rumbek to prevent things getting out of hand. 

They had already, to a point, with me yelling at one of our drivers for taking tea when he was supposed to have been dropping me somewhere (and after not loading the car with a whole bunch of items I needed to transport) – I know, who's the crazy lady ... but this particular driver has an attitude problem, is rather lazy, has already caused a serious crash and had the car compounded after driving into the Governor's convoy. Idiota! Possibly should have been fired long ago.... He also just happened to be an idiot at the wrong time. I don’t like being late, and I was becoming increasingly late because of him, and we had to pick up a variety of government people before trying to visit 12 schools in one day as part of preparations for Global Hand Washing Day the following week. Eesh.

This year the Government had wanted to take more of a lead role in the event (ie get more of the praise when really NGOs do all the work and put up most of the funding). Fine with me; it’s what we’re here to do – support them in their activities and build their capacity. But it also meant that they had nominated me to be the chairperson of the organising committee and subsequently do all the running around. So it had made me increasingly flustered, because the people that were supposed to be assisting me were sitting back and watching me do all of it. Anyway, I’ve already decided that next year the Government is running the whole thing. (I could throw in a ‘washing my hands of it’ pun here. Sad, I know!)

The upshot of all of this was that as a result of my yelling at said driver (“it’s just f$*king tea!”), he reported me to his boss, the acting program manager and the representative of the staff association. Fast forward to the afternoon of Global Hand Washing Day (post event, when I could finally relax and look forward to leaving for a holiday) and I’m sitting in front of a panel of no less than 6 Oxfam staff, on trial for my behaviour. Having used the word “f$ck” and unintentionally slagging off the South Sudanese tradition of tea drinking didn’t help my cause either. I got a good talking to, somewhat uncalled for by a number of people that didn’t even need to be there, and while I clearly over-reacted, the driver didn’t really get in trouble. Again.

Death by a thousand cuts really does apply here. Nothing is simple!

Now, a disclaimer before I launch into the rest of this blog entry: I did anticipate what I signed up for when I said yes to coming to work in South Sudan, of all places. So of course I knew that it wouldn't be easy. But every now and then, venting is necessary. And what better place to do it than THE most public place in the world - the Interweb?

Our staff, bless their cotton socks, try their best (well most of them) and do a great job most of the time. But despite as much advising, coaching, training, coaxing, suggesting and demonstrating as I can humanly do, they either refuse to get organised or are not able. The government is worse, with our office in Juba a close second.

Buying anything for work purposes is a drama. No-one wants to take a float of cash to buy stuff for work purposes, because they don’t want to have to account for every last pound of it and they have to get receipts for everything, which are not easy to find in the market, let alone in most shops. Paperwork here just drags you down to the bottom of the ocean. I know why all these processes are there, but they’re just so painful. Procuring anything of any value takes so long it’s like watching paint dry. People can't think far enough ahead to procure things the proper way - by submitting a requisition with Logistics to go and get it for you.

Don’t ever go to the one bank in town (KCB). You’ll be there for hours waiting for your turn at the unmanned counter. You have to know someone in the secret back rooms, who sit around waiting for who they know to summon them.

No-one is ever on time here. I know, Africa time, but it’s another thing that wears you down after a while. Why bother turning up for an agreed 10am meeting until at least 10:30 or 11? We’ve all got nothing better to do.  

The roads are terrible. You need to do yoga regularly to maintain your spine; the roads wear you down if you have to travel any further than an hour. The general public has no road awareness (neither do cows, goats, chickens or dogs). There are people that just walk out in front of your car without a second thought. And lots of drunken soldiers and old men passed out in the middle of road. At night. The roads are shut off during the rainy season as they turn to mud. Trucks get stuck for weeks in the worst spots and the food they are carrying spoils quickly in the searing heat.

We rely on the shoddiest wiring for our compound. There are no qualified electricians to fix anything. The 'qualified' mechanics in town try to rip you off at every opportunity and never use new parts to repair your vehicles; they try to sell you used parts and only do a half-arsed job so that you come back again soon for more.

Everything we use is cheap, Chinese made sh!t – eating and cooking utensils, power boards, water dispensers, sofas, plastic chairs and tables. Even our toilet paper is made there! China, like in the rest of the world, is making a fortune in Africa selling crap products. They all break regularly and take forever to replace. And here in Rumbek, they are extremely expensive! They get imported from Uganda, along with everything else. Including food.

Juba is 728km from Kampala; then whack a couple of hundred kilometres on top of that to get to Rumbek. That’s almost 1000km. While I don’t know if all the imported goods come from the Ugandan capital, it’s still a long way to transport food. Or anything else for that matter. A majority of our fruit comes from Uganda. So do all the products in the market, besides meat and greens. Oh and peanut butter which is made locally from the millions of peanuts around here at this time of year. You can’t buy eggs from South Sudan. No-one has the resources to, or seemingly knows how to, keep chickens, so eggs are transported all that way as well.

A country with such vast, undeveloped countryside with this volume of rainfall and the River Nile flowing through it should be the bread basket of eastern and central Africa. An essay for another time. But at one stage we were enjoying ground nuts from Cuiebet, sugar cane from Rumbek North and guavas from our compound – all in a country that can’t feed itself. How can that possibly be?!

So, coming back to today: my frustrations after four days back here in Rumbek – this funny place that I love, my second home, a place I enjoy most of the time despite being in the middle of nowhere – have already confirmed to me that my time here needs to come to an end. Christmas 2012 in Australia is where it’s at. I need to get out of here, to go and be normal for a while, in a normal place. I might even try to work out what to do with my life. 

Regardless of what I leave behind – actually it’s who I leave behind – I can’t stay here forever. My khawaja buddies who keep me sane; my lovely staff; my basketball buddies; the various people that know me around town; and perhaps my most favourite: the gorgeous, grubby kids that live in the tukul next door that yell “Jacqui! Jacqui! Jacqui!” continually from when they first see me (and sometimes even when in the undignified act of taking a dump on the roadside, hilarious!) until they have run over to me and given me a big hug . And they can see me from a mile away, us white people stick out like sore thumbs around here.

Nope, staying here would be a compromise of my mental health ... or what remains of it. Sorry Rumbek, I love you, but two more months is it.

The unfolding livestock emergency in Maban County

A livestock livelihoods assessment report from Maban county has been recently released by FAO (the UN's Food Agriculture Organisation). It highlights an interesting issue relating to livestock in Maban, where the Sudanese refugees are located and where we are doing emergency WASH response. There is a range of related issues that arise from the presence of livestock brought to Maban by the refugees, such as competition for natural resources and potential conflict between the host and refugee communities over the spread of disease amongst their livestock.


Some of the findings are as follows:

The first refugees, who arrived in the last quarter of 2011, were farmers or agro-pastoralists, whereas those who arrived in the first and second quarters of 2012 were mainly herders. They brought sheep, goats and cattle. Small ruminants are the majority followed by cattle. The host community also keeps livestock, most of which are pigs, followed by small ruminants and then cattle.



Rough estimate of livestock numbers
Species     Host community     Refugees              Total
Cattle        15,000                        80,000                 95,000
Sheep         3,000                      100,000                103,000
Goats          8,000                     130,000                138,000
Pigs           35,000                                                   35,000

In Yusuf Batil camp alone, there is a total of 113,700 animals (Ruta Donato, 2012). For planning and response purposes, FAO estimates that 20-30% of total livestock population from Blue Nile state will migrate to Upper Nile with the refugees.

CESVI reported about 31,052 animals died (18% mortality rate).

The presence and the level of disease incidence are high and urgent measures are needed to protect livelihoods, especially in view of animals’ mobility and introduction of a new livestock population in the area. The spread of disease also triggers conflict when one community blames the other. 

None of the organizations (UN and NGOs) providing assistance to the refugees (protection, food, education, shelter, health, household items etc), or managing the camps (ACTED), are responding to  livestock emergency issues, nor have the capacity to respond to them in to protect household assets.

The livelihoods of both the refugees and the host community need to be protected and therefore urgent actions are needed to reduce the morbidity and mortality of livestock. Protecting the livestock will provide an opportunity for the refugee community to rebuild their assets and diversify their income.

Markets
Maban is likely to be an important hub for livestock marketing, with a growing number of livestock brought in by the refugees. CESVI reported the number of livestock sold in Maban to be over 28,000, with a market value of 1.4 million dollars.

Entrepreneurship skills are beginning to be evident amongst the refugees who are participating in the local trade providing services much appreciated by their host. According to Philip Bala, Assistant Executive Director, Maban County, there were no daily meat sales in the local market before the arrival of the refugees.
The only challenge is that there is no proper slaughterhouse and animals are slaughtered close to the market, which in the long term may pose a health hazard.

Natural Resource Management
Severe shortage of water, over-grazing in some areas, competition for grazing rights with the Ambororo/
Felata (nomadic herders) and Arabs, increased exposure to risk of being raided, conflict with the farming/agro pastoral communities, disease outbreaks and increased mobility that increases refugees risk of being killed, raided or wounded are likely situations that can occur if proactive actions are not taken.

There is an abundance of forage for grazers for the current number of livestock, but depletion of forage is expected in the first and second quarters of 2013. The critical months are March to May, and during this time livestock migration beyond the refugee camp would be crucial to the survival of the animals. However, there is competition for water (for human, livestock, wildlife) especially in the drier months (February – May).

There are complaints by the local government and host communities of livestock thefts, destruction of farmlands by livestock of the refugees and in Jamam rumors of thefts on farms.

Organizations in the long term will have to consider intervening in natural resource management. They also need to closely monitor all indicators of conflicts and actively engage community to dialogue and negotiate for access.

Livestock watering points needs to be considered as the dryer months approach. Motorized water points and troughs need to be constructed in selected locations, considering the environmental impacts of this activity. Issues of overgrazing, sanitation control and management should also be discussed with both communities. Whilst it is true that lifesaving is a current priority, the issue of access to natural resources could result into death and property loss if not taken seriously.

There is a need for an interagency assessment focusing on all aspect of livelihoods especially agriculture, perennial gardening, and water for garden production by the communities.

****

Its interesting to read reports like this, as these are issues that we often don't think about (especially as WASH-focused people), but that have huge implications on the survival of the Sudanese refugees who will be in South Sudan for a long time to come. The main focus we have recently had on livestock is the health risks they pose from Hepatitis E, an outbreak of which was declared in the camps in Maban. Hep E is a waterborne disease spread through contact with faeces; normally it is human faeces causing the problem, due to a lack of sanitation facilities (ie toilets!), but in this case Hep E can also be spread by animals, and so part of our Hep E prevention campaign has been working with the refugee community to keep animals separate to their living areas. Difficult.

But there is a much bigger picture emerging here, and given there is no-one addressing it, it's going to be a challenge. Let's see what happens...

Shit hitting fans, left right and centre. TIR*

* This Is Rumbek.

This place really is starting to implode on itself. Where should I start. Hmmm, ok, how about ...

THERE IS NO FUEL.

We are waiting for a long-anticipated fuel shortage to become reality. Monday (two days away) is the prediction. We have already been rationing our fuel use across our operations and in the compound (ie reduced generator operating hours). The whole country is suffering the same fate. There is apparently very little fuel even in Juba. I have heard people filling jerry cans in Uganda and transporting them by car over the border to sell in Juba. The road conditions don't help things either (and if you read one of my earlier posts, you'll understand why): not only is there no fuel in country, but it just can't get here. It all comes by road, and the roads are currently either sticky mud, or under water. This has been a looming problem for months, easily anticipated, yet nothing has been done at a national level to solve it. We will basically have to shut down if there is no fuel. We can't do our work in Rumbek North if we can't even get there.

SHOOTING.

This time of year is when all the Dinka cattle keepers stay and keep their cows close to town because there is enough green feed around and they don't need to move them far to find it. The cows are fat and happy, and so are the people. There are a lot of celebrations going on in town, involving large crowds of Dinka gathered together for cultural activities, mostly dancing. Unfortunately, these crowds are very volatile, and it doesn't take much more than a snap of the fingers for some sort of fighting to break out. Even more unfortunately, and despite a Governor-declared 'successful disarmament of Lakes State', most of these people have guns, and aren't afraid to use them.

Over the last few weeks we have heard numerous gun shots, both during the day and in the evening. A few days ago, somewhere behind our compound, apparently near Mabor Ngap Primary School, a cultural gathering turned into chaos when someone from Cuiebet was beaten (stabbed, shot - depending on the source) for impregnating a woman from Rumbek North. This man subsequently fled and the woman's family/community was unable to find him to beat/stab/shoot him. Apparently they found him at this particular gathering and took the opportunity to get revenge. Police showed up and fired into the air to disperse the crowd.

Nearby Safari Style last week, shots were fired after fighting broke out at a large cultural gathering. Apparently drunk people seeking a lift from a passing vehicle tried to hijack it when the drivers refused, and then got their guns out. Some stories suggest the car belonged to the County Commissioner and his bodyguards subsequently returned fire. People here, particularly the cattle keepers (or so it seems), are so volatile in nature.

But it's not just the cattle keepers. A few months ago, a drunk policeman shot and killed a Ugandan trader in the market when he refused to give the officer something free (the policeman wouldn't pay for his goods). The officer swaggered off down the road in his bloodied uniform and were soon easily identified and arrested.

THE GOVERNMENT HAS NO MONEY...

The current economic situation in South Sudan is also not helping the situation. The government shot itself in the foot by shutting down the oil fields and the supply to the pipelines due to the conflict with the North. But this meant that 98% of their GDP was lost, and now every day South Sudanese are suffering due to the subsequent austerity measures. Not paying your civil servants, reducing their salaries or cutting their normal benefits (such as housing allowances) have become the norm.

... SO IT CAN'T PAY ITS' CIVIL SERVANTS.

Teachers, Wildlife Officers and Police are three groups that come immediately to mind. Many of them have not been paid in months. The problem with these last two groups is that THEY HAVE GUNS. A few weeks ago, two incidents highlighted how serious this problem has become. On pay day, when Wildlife Officers were in town to receive their salaries and benefits, they discovered that their salaries had been cut. They subsequently beat a senior staff member to a pulp within the Ministry of Wildlife compound - which, incidentally, is right next to our compound.

The same day, police officers were also in town to collect their salaries. They arrived to find their benefits had been completely dissolved, and subsequently went on a shooting spree. People were shot and taken to hospital. The Police Commissioner was taken hostage and not released until the next day. Gun shots carried on into the evening. Understandably, we weren't allowed to go anywhere near town, and especially not near the police headquarters.

... BUSINESS IS REALLY SUFFERING


Due to the economic downturn, local businesses are really losing out. Inflation has hit them big time. It's difficult to get goods here due to the poor road condition. The rapdily devaluing price of the South Sudanese Pound against the US dollar also hasn't helped. This country has a currency that is not accepted anywhere outside, and the Government has declared that US dollars are not allowed to be used. Inflation is huge. The average South Sudanese person cannot buy food in the market; the prices of basic commodities have sky-rocketed.

Another downside of this is that our friends who are running businesses here in Rumbek are struggling to keep afloat. The non-paid civil servants no longer have drinking money, having not been paid for months, or having missed out on their benefits. The bars are empty. People are also not staying in these more expensive hotels. This has been the case for our two favourite hang-outs here in town. Safari Style only has two permanent guests - and one of them is the manager who doesn't pay to stay there - and very few.

The manager of Afex has recently had to downsize his staff due to a lack of profits. The first to go in this case were some of the security staff. He had been arguing with the security guards for a while about 'restructuring', and it has intensified over the past few days. Yesterday it took a turn for the worse.

... AND MORE SHOOTING.

This morning the security guards ambushed his office armed with their AKs. He was able barricade himself in his office with a chair and desk. Shots were fired and the guards told him they were going to kill him. The police (SSPS) at the airport came over when they heard the commotion and gun shots, were able to remove the manager from the situation, took him to the police station where he reported the incident, and then to UNMISS where he laid low before being evacuated from Rumbek by the UN air service this afternoon. His accountant was evacuated for his own safety as well.

His parting words: "Afex currently has no manager, no accountant, and is being run by the security guards." He suggested that we all steer clear of there for a while. Yep. Advice followed.

This is not the first instance of khawaja (foreigners) being evacuated after threats to their lives from local people angry at a loss of income (for various reasons, but mostly for losing their jobs). I personally know two others to whom this has happened, and who have not come back. My good buddie Ollie gets threats to her life on a regular basis. Staff of hers that have been sacked - for very good reason, such as not coming to work for weeks on end and then turning up demanding salaries - have returned to the compound with sticks, in an extremely irate and almost crazy state, in order to beat the accountant (and often Ollie herself).

There is just such a fighting mentality amongst people here. The crazy nepotism amongst people here also means that actually firing people is very difficult, regardless of whether they deserve it. Attempt it and the Ministry of Labor will be on your ass saying 'you didn't follow protocol' - not that they even have a proper one - not to mention the people who will turn up threatening to kill you.

If you don't maintain the right conditions to attract and keep businesses operating in your community, the economic situation just gets worse. It's really getting out of control, and I'm getting more and more concerned about my own and my colleagues' personal safety in this place.

Joys of the rainy season

Access to many parts of the state has been very limited over the last few months due to rain. LOTS of it. Which means there is LOTS of mud. Our team cannot reach any of the villages in Rumbek North where we want to work, nor some in Wulu and Rumbek Centre, except for those that are along the road. Our activities have almost ground to a halt.

It's not just in Lakes State - right across South Sudan, access is a nightmare. People are stranded due to annual flooding that leaves the entire country in gridlock. Currently, Awerial County, the most eastern in Lakes State, is under water and 23,000 people have been displaced. In Upper Nile state, refugees are living in camps under water - but getting a reliable source of drinking water is almost impossible in some areas.

I was sent a map of South Sudan today from OCHA that show states and counties of South Sudan affected by flooding. It's rather grim. 29 of 49 counties are affected. That's 50%.

The yellow counties are those where emergency flood relief is ongoing. Almost all of Jonglei state is receiving flood assistance. Up in the top corner is Upper Nile state, where we are doing emergency WASH response for Sudanese refugees.

The road network all around the country is impassable in many places. Currently road access from Rumbek to Juba is almost impossible - on all three major routes. There is a country-wide fuel shortage which is being exacerbated by this situation; fuel comes in from Uganda and Kenya as South Sudan has no refineries, despite being a major oil producer (and currently the oil rigs are out of order due to ongoing North - South political conflict), but if the roads are not passable, no fuel can be transported anywhere. It also has wider ramifications for the transport of all other goods, particularly food - a majority of which is imported from Uganda. Prices in the market have sky rocketed, adding to the misery of locals already suffering from huge inflation. An apple in the market comes from Uganda (!) and costs 5SSP - which is over $1. Each one. In our case, we can't get WASH items such as parts for installing/repairing bore holes, or drilling rigs up to Lakes.

To illustrate my point, we received this update from UNMISS (United Nations Mission in South Sudan) today about the state of roads in Lakes State:

-->

UNITED NATIONS DEPARTMENT OF 

SAFETY AND SECURITY (UNDSS)

 

LAKES STATE ROADS CONDITION UPDATE

21 SEPTEMBER 2012

S/NO	ROADS	STATUS
O1	Rumbek-Wulu-Mvolo-	The road between RUMBEK-WULU-MVOLO is in a quite good condition but still motorable at reduced speed.
02	Rumbek-Cuebeit -Tonj	The road is passable however with plenty pot holes
03	Rumbek-Yirol Awerial	The road from AWERIAL to YIROL has many road cuts because of strong water current. The government is working to fix the road in some points The road from YIROL to RUMBEK there is many points on the road where the flooded water washed out parts of the road especially between Yirol and Aluak luak.
04	Rumbek-Maper-Bentiu	The road is very bad at the last 10kms to Maper

 

And some actual illustrations ...

Awerial - Yirol road

 Rumbek - Mvolo road

 

Rumbek - Yirol road

 

In Upper Nile, the road between Jamam and Gendrassa refugee camps was breached when I was there in August. This used to be a road ...

 

 

I was rather pleasantly surprised at how quickly UN-OPS got onto fixing this. Probably something to do with UNHCR food drops not being able to reach refugees in Gendrassa camp. They were without food for 6 entire days. Eeesh.

So, we wait. Wait for it to stop raining. Wait for the flood waters to recede. Wait for water to evaporate. Wait for road repairs. And wait for the proverbial shit to hit the fan when the fuel runs out.

A little update on some not-so-little leopards

So, things aren’t looking good for Baxter and Lulu.

They had been in the compound at Safari Style for a few months, growing bigger and stronger every day and were slowly being weaned off their special leopard milk formula. Escape attempts were being made, trees were being climbed and the poor dik-diks and dikers in the compound were getting a workout from the voracious little cubs, who very clearly had lost none of their natural hunting instincts.

The potential home that had been found for them in a private wildlife sanctuary in Kenya, near Tsavo East National Park, had unfortunately fallen through due to a lack of agreement from the Kenyan Wildlife Service to take them. The papers were signed on the South Sudan side, but not on the Kenyan. Plan B was for them to go to South Africa in a similar way, through a wildlife contact Ollie had – the support and offers were coming in thick and fast for various organisations to assist with relocating them. There was even an offer from a woman in Uganda who wanted to set up her own wildlife sanctuary and wanted the leopards. Not likely.

A majority of the groundwork to relocate the leopards had been done by my friend here in Rumbek; unlike WCS, who had agreed to be responsible for the process of getting them out of the country and properly protected, but had failed to actually do anything. You would think that the official partner organisation of the South Sudanese Government, tasked with setting up the network of national parks across the country, building ranger stations and training rangers, would have the interests of very rare and highly endangered African wildlife at the heart of their existence; but they showed nothing more than indifference to the whole situation, even joking that they were better off knocking them on the head because they wouldn’t survive anyway. Nice. Ever thought of actually giving a damn?

Regardless of a complete lack of support from WCS, South Africa was looking promising. South Sudan had agreed to release the leopards; perhaps they knew full well that they didn’t have the capacity to protect them here and were under growing pressure from wildlife organisations to do so – or get them out. A wildlife sanctuary in South Africa with an experienced, passionate owner that already had leopards in his care was prepared to take them, which came with the blessing of their government.

With the adopted mother of the cubs scheduled to go on leave, a new temporary home needed to be found for them. Some friends at WCS agreed to take care of the leopards in their compound in Juba, so they were transferred. And this was where it all started going wrong.

While the carers clearly became very attached to their new charges, they were clearly very happy with their new found popularity once word got out in Juba that there were two leopard cubs in their midst. Every man and his dog was invited to come and play with the leopards, which we were pretty annoyed about considering how careful we had been about limiting human interaction with them, wanting to keep them as wild as possible (even though inevitably they would lose some of their ‘wildness’ given how young they had come into our care and the length of time they were kept in captivity; but this is why we were so keen to get them out ASAP). They did continue to grow however, and their appetites with them; at last report, consuming a goat a week between them. Awesome! I don’t think our friends at WCS were prepared for the out of pocket expenses that came with their babysitting...

But then the South Sudanese Government suddenly back-flipped on their commitment to relocate the leopards and decided to keep them in the country. I’m sure someone had a word in the ear of the big people in the Ministry of Wildlife at just how valuable a couple of highly endangered big cats were. The next thing we knew, Wildlife Officers (essentially army guys with AK47s) turned up at the WCS compound and demanded the leopards be handed over.

To the WCS guys’ bemusement, the soldiers had turned up with a dual cab pick-up, and were planning on putting the leopards in the back seat, while they drove in the front. No cage in which to put the leopards; what would you need that for?! To the bemusement of the soldiers and the WCS guys, one of the leopards then escaped through the back window, which had been left open, and went and hid under the house. The soldiers looked at each other, not knowing what to do, and then told the WCS guys to get it out for them. Not likely. Get it yourself buddy!

I wish I had been a fly on the wall in that vehicle on their drive back to the Juba Ministry of Wildlife compound. I bet those soldiers were swiped a few times, not only by the terrible drunk drivers on the Juba roads (their fellow soldiers and policemen) but also by a couple of big paws – with sharp claws to boot.

From there we lost track of the leopards. Which has been heart breaking.

Various stories were reported about their whereabouts; the first one being that the cubs were transported to an orphaned antelope (!) sanctuary (free daily lunch for some growing cats?) in Kajo Keji, between Juba and the Ugandan border. The other was that they remained in the Wildlife Ministry compound in Juba. Either way, the whole issue had become VERY political, and neither WCS nor anyone else was allowed anywhere near either location. In my efforts to find out, I contacted a South Sudanese-Australian from Kajo Keji whom I knew via a friend at home, and was told in no uncertain terms that I was very unwelcome to visit Kajo Keji and that this issue was highly controversial.

I remain extremely worried that the following thing(s) have either happened, or will happen, to these beautiful leopards.

1. They are illegally trafficked over the border, making some South Sudanese government officials very wealthy men;
2. They are sold either domestically or internationally as pets, or to an illegal sanctuary;
3. They are killed for their skins; or
4. They end up in cages in a South Sudan Wildlife Ministry or private compound somewhere, making money from paying “tourists” for the rest of their lives.

I just wish we could find out where they are.

Sadly, wildlife are not high on the priority list of anyone here in a country still recovering from war, that struggles to feed itself and to deal with major corruption. They’re not excuses though. There are enough organisations working here that can and should prevent things like this happening. Yes, WCS, I’m looking at you.