Dance and dance

when i hit the drum

pick that stick

you pick

that stick

blow the horn

Dance and dance

the old men told you

its your culture

stop the white men things

God created us with

the drum


and horn to dance with

it is your culture



The dead knows


The dead knows


The river of blood

You bath in with your relatives

Ignoring those whose relatives are them died

To get for you and your relatives the happiness

Happiness that earn you all the flights of the world

Will soon go_Far to that land

My son

I tell you

Leave swimming in the happiness

At others expense

History have told us that you have gone longtime

Now called Martyrs though still living

Look at the line of those who did the same like you when on work

Their children are in the jails of Libya

Their generation is Gaddafi’s graves

Their burial will be denied like-Pearl of Africa

Far _the Muslim Land_Saudi Arabia.

Their history _Napoleon’s

Their families exist like Hitler’s

The dead knows   

My son

That this blood one said of mine catches fire

These blood are not red though but looks feral white- sarcophagus

Dead died alive in you if yet was not their time

Ignore the dreams they brought they said

They will take you continues their voices  

For their name liberators is never worthy

The dead knows

And they know


Ferguson: Ten Bloggers Speak Out


The Blog

Many details about the violent death of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri, remain unclear. What is beyond doubt is the intensity of reactions to this story — in the media and in neighborhoods all over the US (and beyond). Here are ten personal perspectives on this event and its aftermath, from writers representing a diverse cross-section of the community.

14938226361_6a7a43dfda_oImage by Shawn Semmler (CC BY 2.0)


Writer and scholar Keguro Macharia reacts with his usual incisiveness to one of the signature chants of post-Ferguson protests :

If “Hands Up, Don’t Shoot” is an expression of “humanity,” as one tweet has it, we must ask for whom that humanity is available. In fact, the insistent repetition of “Hands Up, Don’t Shoot” by black bodies across the U.S. might offer a less promising narrative: it might suggest the banality with which black life forms can never gain access to the vernaculars of the human.

hands up, don’t shoot

View original post 712 more words

Juba looks wanting to rain but nothing yet will soon do so if not blocked by each other’s prayers


If you are on your way coming to Juba the sunshine you know is off air today and what you need to do is to get up some things for you to be not wet though the cloudy mood has taken some time without some drops on the earth and this is either happening due to varying prayers from two unhappy sides. Expectant citizens on the streets are seen rushing home others quitting their jobs in fear of being cut off from their family members mostly those in what we call 107 in Munuki far end. But know it for that not for any other thing. That is how we know it though the people of Jebel have their different way of knowing it_Dust from UN repaired road!

The fear of swimming through to your home compound not only hit them but also the staff of Juba’s well known KCB bank on your way to Yei might be because that bridge and the Banks fence tasted the work of flowing rainy water for two times. Though the UNMISS had worked on the road the small bridge still remain as the dust the road work had brought to the people there. Residents of that area most commonly known as Nyokuron as you head to Jebel Market are highly praying for the rain to come to stop that dust which they think could raise unknown sickness. According to them it would have been better for the pot holes to stay put other than smearing their faces with filth which makes them unable to see and sit by the road side to do business. They blame the current cause of their cough to the dirt.  Juba’s looking wanting to rain but nothing had induced in the residents different feelings on the work of the UN on the road. To them touchdown of rain would heal their feelings of abhorrence to the work that brought to them more harm than the good intended only to the big cars the UN and government drive to raise the grime on them whom are not cared for by any side.  As anyone in South Sudan knows and if you have not been to this new country the system of driving is what the author of this text could call “chase away the poor who do not afford four-wheel drives but persist on using  their God-given rav 2 away from the road”, and really they are seen doing it by raising the dry earth that form mad Mud  able to smear the  floor of our huts on the faces of the sweating peddlers though they the peddlers  with their bikes scare away the toe tipping pedestrians  in fear of their lives far away from the community good _THE  ROAD. I think something more than potholes repair have to be done to help both the rich and the poor so that those residents of 107 who wanted God to hear their prayers by letting nonstop sunshine   would one day prayer for rain likewise those who want the  rain do the same because it seems none of these groups prayers would be heard daily.



Warring Values; Decisions



Jen Mylo, On Hiatus

Say you found an organization or a program that you wanted to get involved in and/or support because it pressed all your buttons around social justice, health care, classism, inclusion, and practicality. Say you got really excited and made plans to commit yourself to this course of action. Say you then found out that the institution’s physical home was going to be in space rented from a Catholic Church, an organization that has some pretty nasty things to say about gay folks, discriminates against women, still bans birth control in this day and age, and in this particular archdiocese, was part of the big sex abuse lawsuits a while back, followed by the archdiocese trying to divest itself of property by giving it to the parishes before declaring bankruptcy so that it wouldn’t lose the properties in the lawsuits, and more recently made protesting against gay marriage a major initiative?

In my case, it…

View original post 234 more words

Agriculture should be taught in our schools please.


This morning as I was walking from home to the town  center in our lovely capital city Juba where majorly agricultural produce are imported from other countries despite the largely abundant land and human resource that is now being killed other than being used in food production, I met school going pupils standing near some growing crops which to them have no name. Arguing in Juba Arabic, the other younger who seem a little clever told their friends that what they are seeing is Dura (Sorghum) the other pupils insisted that this is some grass. The older boy whom I was thinking could correct them all agreed with his views saying this though seem like Dura it is not Dura but rather a grass that grows around the South Sudan TV compound. But as I watch by, what they were seeing was actually maize crop that had not yet started flowering. Then I asked myself if this young school going age could not know simple plants that village uneducated child has planted for several times, what future is there in food production in the new nation?  And what class is this that does not know crops? Is there agriculture being taught in our classes in South Sudan regardless of levels as subject? Or what syllabus are we following?

This brought to my understanding again a topic   one day people were talking about. Here old people more over graduates. As a good listener that time I spared my time to pick up what they were up to-TRADITIONAL FOODS!  In Equatoria as region several of us know what is good for the Azande of Western Equatoria when it comes to foods that come first on table one told the group. Gadiya he stressed while raising his arms as if picking food to mouth. Gadiya means cassava leaves in that side of the country.  Among those arguing out points was one from Western Equatoria though not Azande who agreed saying if added Palm oil then more food will die than the Gadiya itself.  Mentioning to the group in their loud tones were two youth from Central Equatoria Yei county_ LIMA BEANS. I personally do not understand at first what Lima Beans means but they went on by explaining that Lima Beans belongs to a class of Beans called Heirloom Beans.  We leave to those studying agriculture but we move on with why mention Lima here. They said it’s the only Kakuwa food that comes first on table and when spoiled will earn you spear  on your ribs those days unlike today that now the kakuwa Ignore the practice leave alone cooking but planting the Lima Beans.  They said in Kakuwa traditions that when Lima beans are cooked the product is called WELE-WELE. I do not know what it means since they did not want to mention keeping the meaning as copy right protection. So we let it there but I advice that hook a friend from there to tell you.

Out of all the serious mention of all words that took nearly thirty minutes few of the people wondered what these guys should be talking about. They did not wonder in silence but in curiosity of wanting to know these foods that sound to their ears so new and strange to their taste. The more interested guy asked about these so called Lima Beans how they look and grow. Quick enough from the so traditionally sounding Yei guy words came, the some like what you know_FULU MASERI! The Yei boys threw question inquiring how FULU MASERI grow from the seemingly expert though not their traditional food. Off course no answer from him who says it’s their food in the cities they grow in. This Lima Beans eating man said to the FULU man that, that is how they grow and look. Here I did not want to keep silent. I questioned the Lima Man if he knows how these FULU are planted or else how they even look like when growing. Silence came from him to my side. Another man wanted to know that so called Gadiya that we nearly forgot to mention. He was simple. Tell me guys what this thing is because I use to hear from my Habibi  (Juba Arabic sound )meaning Lover but I fear to tell her that I do not understand. It is good today we here men let me know. I was heartbroken but simply said mildly in Juba Arabic too-Rusal Bafura. He is like Yasala, Yasala, and yasala in Juba Arabic showing that he is surprised. Here in town we eat it but do not know how it grows. I have not seen it in my life time. But it is nice when cooked enjoy with Kesira        

     Then I ask myself again, are these grown up the same like the primary going kids?

These kids might be right to not know crops, how about the university aged group?

And if you do not know how cassava grow, how about other crops?

Should South Sudan produce crop videos to play on the national media?

More questions I asked because we cannot eat things that we do not know how they grow leave alone how they are grown.