Revised.... ~The ordeal of an unconscious mind~ Knowledge makes a man unfit to be a slave. A slave to-and a victims of, political deceptions. Emancipate your brain from tribal politics. Acquire wisdom and witness the virtue of harmonious coexistence in capacity building. This is an ordeal of a sleeping mind. Away with Nuer and away with Dinka. Wither away Acholi and wither away Mundari, just as you would do away Murle and Shiluk. For, it was not Bari or Lotuho alone that fought for the dear sovereignty of our republic. We all bled to be named South-Sudan/ese. We certainly didnt painstakingly, sacrificed ourselves just so a mere misunderstanding, or should I say, greed over power between two individuals, out of a population of 12 million or so, can result in a blood-bath of the innocent. South Sudan dont belong to politicians alone, their number is below a minority status. But here it is, recited right before your eyes, the ordeal of an unconscious mind. ~Affluence of an Elitist Child~ You, yes you, the one wearing an elegant golden watch and a diamond necklace chain, those are some nice pair of Jordans man. Youve got an incredibly eloquent swag compared to my MUTUKELI and my dirty (mandis/mechanic like) ripped pants from the buttocks. I saw you and your acolyte of girls... you-know... the ones you impressed with three bottles of champagne and multiple cocktails the other night at the club, laughing at me for sipping £6 bottle of unrefrigerated Tusker. You have no idea how expensive that bottle of Tusker was for my feasible set, but Its okay, it did the job anyway. I cant exhibit a pretentious display. I must accept what reality offers. I am not an affluence child. Im the stone that the builder refused, I am the black sheep out of a thousand white sheeps, yes, I am the child the society outcastes. Like tiny fishes dont swim deep, I dont ball big. Allow me to reintegrate my premise. I SAID, I AM NOT AN AFFLUENT CHILD. ~Ballad of a dead soldier~ It might as well be that, when youre finished with you mischievous utterance, I would like to remind you my esteemed brother, that it wasnt your dad alone, who dodged those Arab bullets. My dear uncle died in the struggle to get you that brand new H3 Hummer you balled to the club with. Perhaps he wouldve joined the avalanche of corrupted officials (OR) perhaps he would have been ashamed of a Failed-Vision. Bottom line, he died, cest-la-vie. But allow reality to speak for itself. I know he wouldnt have got the H3 for his kids anyway-had he lived. Because he was ONLY a member of an infantry. A foot soldier who has no connection to the bigger bosses joining a league of elites is impertinent. His contribution and that of many others (dead-or-alive) are largely unacknowledged. Crucified in Calvary with their widows and orphans, along with other victims that the government has become oblivion to, such as war veterans and elders, they now form the narrative in the ballad of a dead soldier. ~Tribulations of a dying warrior~ As of my dad, he lived, thank heavens. But just as he was about to retire due to his old age, he got summoned in by the division commander. Thats right, your uncle Mr X, the nepotistical public figure who employed your inept dad. Yes, I meant he, who is in a senior military echelon (top brass). He charged my dad with a duty! A duty to go fight a tribal war, a war of political polarisation, but my father was dubious about the course. He was rhetorically told that he was going to fight the enemies of peace. The propaganda almost sounded malign to him. Arent they also sons of South Sudan that these people (enemies of peace) lead? He questioned. He wasnt really going to fight that war. In fact, he knew very well that he was deployed there to fight something less profound, something of less lustre. In essence, he was send to go and protect your familys thriving conglomerate and initial wealth accumulating in Juba. Which bought your immediate family the luxurious mansion you owned in Nairobi. This is the lamentation of a proud owner of a (mud house) in Gumbo, a suburb at the outskirts of Juba. Can you picture-perfect his silent tribulations? Tribulations of a dying warrior that is. ~Disparity & Dead Conciliation~ Is your heart aching, is your flesh feeling resentment, is your mind inquisitive about how I figured all these strictly covet affairs out? Well dont be. I may be broke, but at least I am wise. You might be rich, but youre dead in spirit. I know what you dont know and that is what happened here in Juba while you were away, attending one of your counterparts birthday party in Kampala. I know whats going on in Torit, Greater Upper Nile Region and in other parts of the country, which I dont see the need of rectifying to you because you probably never heard of these adversities facing the nation anyways, as caring is often for the weak and poor. You spend almost youre entire life abroad. Its such a damn shame you dont even know the geography of South-Sudan-not even where the oil that accounts to 98% of your familys wealth is lies. Listen here, I have no intentions to single you out, but let us remedy a few thing. All of your family and extended family members are abroad. I know, as of this instant, your sister is comfortably getting her pedicure & manicure done at your prestigious residence in Nairobi. But little did you probably know, that my sister is her servant! Nonetheless, this must explain why your uncle and your father dont show much concern about the civilians in UNMISS compound. Assuming you even know the abbreviation. Moreover, while your father carefully tucked his belly in as he indulged in his hotel-office in Juba, to the comfort of an electronic Mitsubishi air-condition and two sentinels outside his office, and your (musakap) mother, an addict to foreign-made luxury goods, is enjoying her shopping spree in Dubai, with her next flight destined to arrive in Doha in just a few hours, My mother, Tabitha Kenyi (Once a Mahdi pride) whos now married to my father Mayen Atem (a typical Dinka man, in what was once a conventional esprit-de-corps (we are one people), have been driven out of her mud and thatch-roof dwelling, and is now seeking refuge in the bush, hungry and with very little to drink-somewhere in Jonglei because of an ethnic conflict. Can you hear her cry, she condemns disparity and dead conciliation. ~When my role model falls~ Excuse me madam, Excuse me sir, can I please get through? oopps, pardon me...Hello, your honourable, thank you for attending the sermon here at Emmanuel Jieng (Church in Juba). Ive heard stories about you, ever since I were a kid, Ive always aspired to be a revolutionary figure like you. To fight for a justified course and to liberate my people. I feel privileged to have this courtesy of meeting you. Remember back in Kapoeta you said.... ITS NICE TO MEET YOU YA JESH-AMER, COME TO MY OFFICE TOMORROW AT MINISTRIES, I WILL TELL THE WATCHMEN TO LET YOU IN, OKAY... (A phone call interrupted, his honourable answered and spoke briefly, then back to me) OKAY CANCEL YOUR VISIT TOMORROW KID, I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT MEETING TO ATTEND. (He really meant investments to represent) IN AUSTRALIA TOMORROW, OKAY! HERE IS £200 FOR YOUR TRANSPORT, BYE. YALA, YA, DRIVER, LE MAMA ZARAH (ordered the driver to drive to mama an elite restaurant in Juba). Wait! But youre the minister of...... What about the security situation in...... The country.......? The honourable minister of a withheld portfolio just jumped into his V8 and left me, standing there at the mercy of a dusk ball that his car defecated. Like a deer at night, perplexed by a cars headlight. I wondered if the minister is still the mentor I once knew. The one revolutionary praises were sung to, the soldier I aspired to be. I questioned, did his ego swell, has he lost his morals over wealth? Did my role model fall? ~The Cognitive Dissonance~ I dont care if the current insecurity was brought about by a political discordance, I dont give a shit if it were caused by Rieks Political Bureau or Salvas NLC, I dont want to know if the situation is a foiled attempted coup or if it were just a political crisis. It has now turned into a tribal conflict and have caused many peoples lives, people that had nothing to do with politics. I hereby demand that they be resurrected! As per the ones that are still living, give them freedom or give us death. Mothers didnt give their sons to the revolutions, so you politicians can become the impediments of change. You idiots are turning your guns in the wrong direction AGAIN. Leave now and leave at once! You politicians have infringed our liberties and deprived us off opportunities far too long. Enough is enough, I despise all of you. I curse you and wish woe unto you all. People fled their houses fearing massacre. Their safety in the bushes is not guaranteed. Thirst and hunger are not accounted for in the governments agenda. The beginning and end of governments goal starts with power and ends with extortion. People are held captive in various UN compounds and are in great state of despair. These people are used as elements of sabotage, so politicians can make their ends-meet. Do venerable civilians want power from NLC? Do they impede PB (impeached) members from getting into power? Are they a part of presidential guard? Are they coup schemers? Can you fight a just course in areas inhabited by civilians? Can you hurt unarmed civilians that have nothing to do with politics? If youve answered yes to any of these questions, then check yourself. Youre either a supporter of NLCs counter-productive policies or of PBs trivial power struggle and an obstacle to peace and harmony. You must hastily seek medical attention, because youre supporting the very people that have caused tribal warfare and youre directly or indirectly entrenching perils of intolerance and greed to our society. If youre advocating tribal based violence, then you too check yourself. South-Sudan dont belong to you and your tribe. Youre just suffering from cognitive dissonance. ~Promised land of death~ To the detriment of my heart, we live in a realist world. A world where nation fight against nations. To the deepest of my regrets, we live in a continent, a continent where countries instigate proxy wars against their neighbours. To my greatest dismay, we live in a country, a country where one tribe practice scotch-earth tactics against another for the interest of a few tribe members. But why be surprise? We live in a promised land of death. Its sad that it will take the current generation of South Sudanese another century to realise that a true enemy comes from the back not in front of the house. Why focus on a domestic foe when an external enemy is not annihilated? How will we see our greatest enemy advancing towards us, if we take off each others eyes (on an eye-for-an-eye vendetta)? If Cain exterminates Abels life, how then, will he fight an enemy that is walking with his brother? Whos going to watch Cains back? Why find an adversary within, when we are all preys to an imminent socio-economic threat, posted by modernisation? ~And who the hell do I think I am?~ With a tip of an hat, allow me to introduce myself. Well, I am just an ordinary idled youth that South Sudan cannot make better use of. An idling youth that refuses to fight a South Sudan war against South Sudanese. A youth that South Sudan owes so much to and that owes South Sudan so much in return. Far from being a yuppy, I am just a mediocre that belongs to a tribe, a tribe call South Sudan. Have you heard of it? I bet you havent. I suggest you do your research. Find out where it is. If it isnt in your heart, then you havent studied well. Kastro C. Mengistu.
Posted on: Tue, 19 Aug 2014 07:59:07 +0000
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