Self-discovery in Sudan

I have found myself in a place called Julud in the Nuba Mountains,
Central Sudan. At present, it is precariously balancing on the terms of
the Central Peace Ceasefire Agreement between the Sudanese People’s
Liberation Army (SPLA) and the Government of Sudan (GOS).

There
is no active war here, yet the ravages of a war that just recently
ended are very apparent in this area. As you drive along, the scores of
abandoned villages are like eerie ghost towns, where the wind blows
through and no signs of life are evident except for a few goats and
sheep chomping on bone-dry shrubs.

During
the war, the people abandoned their homes and their tribes and fled
into the hills to hide from the government forces. They created
makeshift villages between the rocks and kept their livestock safe
amongst the rocky nooks, signs of which can still be seen today. A
people who lived in terror of rockets, mortars and gunfire; who longed
for their homelands and the families they had left behind; a people
living amongst a maze of strategically planted mines to prevent the
soldiers from finding their hiding places in the mountains; living in
fear of the minefields planted by the soldiers to keep them from coming
down from the mountains and returning to their homes.

A woman was
asked what the Peace Agreement meant to her and her answer was, “…no
longer having to duck and dive when planes fly overhead, and finally
getting to see family and friends after some 10 years in hiding”. How
sad is that???

I
witnessed one of the local tribal councils where the tribal leaders
gather the people together and speak about different issues. It was
surreal to see the joy on the faces of a people united after so long;
some of them saw their families for the first time in 10 years. You
could almost touch
the emotion as the tears of joy flowed all
around. The people danced and celebrated till the early hours of the
morning, as if there was no tomorrow….

Slowly
but surely, the people are returning to their villages and we are
seeing new huts being added here and there, as the families are
providing for the return of their loved ones. These people don’t have
much, but they are just happy to be back in their beloved Nuba
Mountains, home to one of the oldest tribes in Africa.

They
are a kind and gentle nation, and as I go for my daily morning walk at
the crack of dawn, I’m amazed at how safe I feel in this land so far
away from my own home. I walk on a deserted path into the bush and
should I happen to meet someone on the road, it’s always with a smile,
a greeting
and then the question, “Where are you going?” I guess
they think I’ve lost my way and are quite amused to hear that I’m just
going for a walk, because “gawajas” (foreigners) never walk around
these parts (they drive, since they are the only ones with vehicles).

When
I get to the “rock”, a prominent landmark that signifies my point of
return, I take a few minutes to catch my breath and marvel at the
wonders of creation. While sitting there, I can’t help but long for
home and wish I could be sitting on a rock, all alone at 6:30 in the
morning, somewhere in Pretoria – and feeling as safe and secure as I do
in this land of the Nuba.

I
will remain here till July and already I’m dreading my departure from
these gentle people and the tranquillity of the Nuba Mountains. This
place where I rediscovered a part of me that I thought was lost forever
– a reason to be eternally grateful for the wonderful opportunity of
working here. I will go to Darfur after my leave and it saddens me to
think that my account of being there will be somewhat different from
this one. There they have curfews, and I can forget about taking walks
in the bush at any time of the day, let alone 6am in the morning. I
guess the one saving grace for me will be the ever-menacing presence of
our SANDF boys and girls (well known throughout Africa for their ‘vat
nie kak nie’ attitude), who will no doubt keep me safe and sound.