There was a trending audio going around TikTok a couple years back where people would ask “Do you have a wristband?” to indicate your sense of belonging. Essentially, those who couldn’t identify themselves didn’t have a place prepared for them. Among our people, we had one of those South Sudanese beaded bracelets that solidified our place. I remember the first one I ever got, a gift from my mother; I refused to take it off until it broke…
One of my favorite things about being South Sudanese is the love we share for culture. We find belonging everywhere, among the variety and across the borders. I’ve followed people for years and can vividly recall the moment I met them in real life. I’ve attended weddings of strangers I only saw on a flier after casually scrolling on Facebook. I’ve grown up with Mama Amira and other internet sensations that carried a sense of home with them. And I’ve circled the block and found South Sudanese hiding in the corners; from England to Germany, California to Maine, we take up space naturally and we find each other intentionally.
Back home, in South Sudan, reality can often look different. We see tribal affiliations and geographical location separate people. Borders and unpaved roads already create divides in government access; some villages remain disconnected from the capital city and flooding adds barriers to sharing resources. But when did tribal markings and affiliations change from being a unique celebration of culture to a means of justifying violence? With as much love as we carry for our people, it is much more disheartening to see our government, and, by extension, our people, only embrace love for some.
Over the years we’ve lost too many of our own to trivial matters. In Australia, we witness harrowing killings at the hands of gang-related violence. When the blade of a knife wields respect over the love of people, the bigger issue is that youth don’t feel like they belong. Sometimes I still think about Chol Achiek and Dau Akueng, just 12 and 15 years old respectively, who lost their lives to a senseless matter late last year. Chol is said to be one of the youngest youth to ever lose his life to street violence, but Australia does not stand alone. In America, gang-related violence has been investigated for over a decade. In Omaha, Nebraska, the American city with the highest South Sudanese population, multiple gangs occupy the streets; city officials have recruited South Sudanese representation by way of gang prevention specialists and even law enforcement.
When we proudly proclaim our nation as one of 64 tribes, we do a disservice to all those who lack equity in belonging. My prayer is that our South Sudanese communities all over the world seek to be a testament to the richness of our country. May we be an embodiment of God’s’ love to our land and our people, and may we bring truth to the words we sing in our national anthem, once created by a people who fought for the reality of today. Southside Sudo will always seek to embody the likeness of South Sudan as a whole; with hope, our diasporic communities will learn to steward the needs of our youth & families with intention.