The other day, I was chatting with someone I knew back in the day. I tutored him back in the day, but he wasn't a close friend. The man is now large with a lot of wisdom, knows a lot about government from the ground up, and is qualified to be consulted on regional political matters. According to his past nostalgia, he was once a revolutionary respected by his peers in the community. Listening to him, I immediately believe him, his background speaks for itself. As a respect to my tradition, I called him nephew, and he called me uncle in return. In Africa, a nephew is not only someone related to a person, but also someone who meets certain ages. Anyway, we discussed politics, I expressed my concern about the deteriorating security of our homeland, and I wondered how he was handling it. Since I have lived on this beautiful land for so many years, he said this is the most dangerous situation he has ever experienced. I'm sure we'll manage it, uncle. Eventually, we'll find a way out. I am fine, as are all my family members. Amid threats to our homeland security, he understood my concerns and those of others in the diaspora. However, he calmly assured me that it was under control, though not dismissive, but he wasn't frightened. Nevertheless, he urged diaspora Anyuawa to help us raise funds so could buy refiles to protect our land and help the poor who couldn't afford to buy guns. He advised diaspora to do just that, leave the rest for them, believe me you should worry less, if help us our hands with what I have just mentioned for us to deal with security and threats to our land. As an army officer, I am a soldier. I am armed to protect myself, my country, and my people. Currently, I am in the Itang district, en route to enforce the order that was shattered by clashes between Anyuawa and Nuer two days ago. In the automobile he was in for duty, his comrades were making loud noises, interrupting my conversation. Well, I see you're busy, so I'll speak with you again when you're free. Without worrying, I hung up. My conversation with him gave me a better insight into who he is and how he works. In his detailed description of the Nuer tribe with which he was working, he described many of them as egotistical, wanting power, control, notices, appraisals, promotions, rankings, privileges, and mostly they wanted to be called chief that chief that, and even passed on the praise to anyone who respected them. The Nuer are very nepotistic, even among themselves, which is awful. The notion of my village, my boys, my family, my neighbors, my cousins, my nephews, or my nieces dominates their decision-making process. If those demands aren't met, chaos or anarchy will ensue. For all social conflicts in Nuer tribes, war is the first choice to settle them. He claims to have gained a great deal of experience from many years of military service, including several expeditions he had taken to enforce peace and prevent clan fighting in the Nuer country. He told me a peculiar story about a Nuer boy who was a head monitor but was dismissed due to incompetence. The boy became angry and went home brought his father, family, clans carrying spears, and guns with them to school, challenged the teacher and the school authority, and refused to give up his position to another student who had received a lot of votes. As I listened to him tell the story, I remembered many stories I was told when I was young about Anyanya I the first South Sudanese Liberation Movement, its sagas. The story of Captain Nyang Rundiel, who told his disciples to respect him as it was decreed at Bura-Agnaya, that only his peers would speak to him, not those of the lower common, and that anyone not appointed, anointed into rank and file of the liberation army officers at Bura-Agnaya should not dare to challenge him. As one can see from this, other stories, it's understandable that the Nuer stock, not all of them are self-centered, they want attention, control, appraisal, promotion, ranks, on top of that, they are sycophants who admire other people jealously, by copying everything. Currently, their music contains Tigre, Oromo, Amharic, and Anyuawa rhythms. To put it another way, they survive by stealing the culture and property of other people.
Good Day
Writer Namphili Gilo, can be reached at the following email address: amhare14@gmail.com
