Jubalicious!

Flying into the world’s newest nation on Wednesday morning, I was greeted with a vast, wide, flat green plain, thatch-roofed village complexes every now and then, rock massifs protruding out of the landscape, trees dotted around, small rivers winding their way like snakes. Unlike the Rift Valley in Kenya, which is heavily farmed, the landscape here is generally untouched. The Sudanese are overwhelmingly cattle farmers, the local economy based almost purely on it, and the landscape reflects it.

Juba from the air is a large, sprawling, low-rise mass, built around the huge rock massif, Jebel Kujour, that emerges out of the flat landscape. The city dwellings are predominantly red and blue corrugated-roof numbers, traditional thatched huts fighting to retain their place amongst their more modern counterparts and becoming the norm on the urban fringe. Flying in you can easily recognise the largest compound – which of course belongs to the UN. 

The airport terminal’s faded sign reads ‘Juba International Airport’; but until its new, glass-facaded terminal is completed, the existing terminal – a glorified shed – is a bit of an impostor. The atmosphere when you arrive is hot, sweaty and crowded, with humanitarian workers crowding around the small desk to 'sign in' and get their passport and work permits stamped, then fighting through the masses to try and locate their luggage which, once identified, is opened, checked and marked 'ok' with chalk before being allowed to disappear with its owner.

South Sudan’s capital is not the most inspiring city. It’s a sprawling, unplanned, dusty, dirty place that is more of a large town than a city. First impressions are great: the road from the airport is smoothed, paved and marked, the kerbs painted in black and white stripes, the medians landscaped. There are even glistening white ‘no parking’ signs on the roadside. But first impressions are just that. Sure, the part of town with the government offices is certainly new and shiny. But the rest of the city is just a ramshackle collection of dirty, faded houses, small shops, the bustling Konya-Konya market, and, winding its way slowly past the city, the River Nile. 

Juba doesn’t really have a centre; its just an organic mess of a place that has expanded with the arrival of the UN and hundreds of NGOs, plus the growth of the new Government. As for 'city sights', all I could really point out are the 'multi-coloured fountain' (lit up at night), the LED sign announcing South Sudan's arrival as new UN nation #193 and the freedom fighter John Garang memorial. Tourists ain't gonna be flocking here anytime soon.