Our fathers’ fathers cried in Juba
Published 8:21 am Thursday, July 7, 2011
Column: Nya Lony, Staff Notes
The fourth of July weekend is one of the holidays I look forward to the most. The barbecues, parades and fireworks are all nice, but it’s the sense of unity that I prefer. The parade on July 3 and the fireworks on July 4 brought out what seemed to be all of Albert Lea. Family, friends, neighbors and people who probably have never met each other were able to come together and enjoy freedom in unison. As I participated in the fourth of July festivities, I couldn’t help but wonder, what’s it going to be like celebrating two independence days?
The Republic of South Sudan, where I am originally from, will officially recognize its independence on July 9. It has been a long, bloody road to freedom. In fact, the conflict in Sudan has been Africa’s longest running civil war.
In January 2011, the people from South Sudan voted in a referendum on whether they should break away from the North and declare independence. The push to vote was coming from everywhere; famous Sudanese musicians wrote songs like “Time to Vote,” forums rallied adults to register and the Facebook movement motivated the youth.
My parents and I traveled to Omaha, Neb., one of the voting centers, on Jan. 9 along with thousands of other people. There were coach buses bringing in people from all over. I remember there was a severe snow storm that day and the line to get inside to vote stretched around the building, but that didn’t stop the determined voters.
It was a tense couple of weeks after the referendum while everyone awaited the results. Everyone said they would vote for independence, but that didn’t mean they would actually do it. Parents phoned all of their friends to inquire if they voted and for what. The results came on on Jan. 30. The South Sudanese overwhelmingly voted for secession with a 98 percent majority.
Naturally, it was a time to celebrate. Concerts and parties were held in cities with a Sudanese community. The struggle for independence affected the youth differently than their parents or their grandparents. For me, the conflict was always in the back of my mind but I hardly considered it an issue I could help solve. For parents, the conflict is what they’ve been fighting their whole lives and now their efforts are finally paying off. For grandparents, it was a chance to see a free South Sudan, the South Sudan of their youth. I specifically remember one of my uncles talking about how he called his father in Juba, South Sudan, to share the news and how they cried in the face of freedom. It had been a long time coming.
Earning our independence is one thing, but building a country from the ground up is a whole other struggle in itself. One of the things that often comes up among my friends and I is what the future of South Sudan is going to be like. I had a chance to listen to plans for the young republic on June 11 at the Mid-America Center in Council Bluffs, Iowa. The Vice President of South Sudan, Riek Machar, came to speak about the future of South Sudan.
Security held up the line at the entrance as everyone entering the building had to be checked with a metal detector wand. I didn’t mind, it gave me an opportunity to people watch. I noticed just how passionate these people were and how eager they were to get inside.
As I was being checked, I saw a young man escorting who I assumed to be his grandmother into the building. She was blind and could barely walk, but regardless of that, she exuded this aura of determination. I watched her and her grandson walk all the way up to the front, they sat directly in front of the vice president. Clearly, she had waited a long time for an opportunity like this. Throughout the speech, I would look at her periodically and catch her nodding in approval of what was being said.
Machar sat panel-style at the front of the room flanked by South Sudanese delegates.
One of the topics that the panel touched on was the South Sudanese youth living in the U.S. There is a shocking number of South Sudanese youth in correctional facilities instead of school. We were brought to the U.S. to get an education and to have a brighter future both here and back in South Sudan. The Republic of South Sudan is facing a shortage of skilled professionals. How do you motivate the youth to stay in school when they would much rather focus on other recreational activities?
The other important topic mentioned was the constitution and how it was being written by the government and council of ministers. Machar emphasized the participation of the people by sending in their ideas of what they think is important, what they want to see in their constitution. I thought it was a great idea to have the people involved in laying down the groundwork for the constitution. We all fought together to get independence, it’s only fair that we all get a hand in building the republic.
At the end there was a question and answer session. The old woman from before was one of the last in line to ask a question. Supported by her grandson, she slowly made her way to the microphone. She captured the attention of the whole room when she started singing a song in Nuer, the language spoken in South Sudan, about freedom; she cried. She went on to express how much independence meant to her and how important it is that in building a new country, and that we must not lose sight of what we have been working toward: freedom and equality. As she walked away from the microphone a thunderous applause erupted from the audience.
I am proud to be South Sudanese, I’m proud of everyone who fought for independence and on July 9, I plan to proudly wave a new flag. The first South Sudanese independence day celebration is going to be one to remember and as Riek Machar said, “we have invited the whole world.” This July marks the beginning of a tradition of lighting up the sparklers twice in one week.
Nya Lony is a staff intern at the Albert Lea Tribune.