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Friday, August 2, 2013

Warni – Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere


By: John Jefferson
Warni – Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere
We first heard about this obscure village in the middle of the southern mountains of South Kordofan over a year ago when the End Nuba Genocide group was asked to reroute a planned mission to the area north of Yida refugee camp.  Given the time, logistics and resources available to our small and nimble, but very constrained team, it was impossible to pivot.  The idea of helping these people in one of the most remote portions of the Nuba Mountains never left my mind and with the concurrence of the team, we decided the next trip would be focused on these neediest of victims of Bashir’s plan of eradication and removal.



As we drove to Warni from Kau, two things became very apparent.  The first was that no one was living on the rich fertile plains between the two mountainous areas, at least not recently.   There were abandoned villages along the road, but the fields lay fallow and except for the rare troop movement, there was no traffic.  We didn’t even see herds of goats or cattle.  The land was desolate.  I was quickly informed that this was due to the triple threat of bombing raids, militias and marauding cattle and goat herders that had terrorized the people before the war and intensified their activities since its inception.  Despite the fact that the SPLA-N had been able to rid the area of enemies, the people were now sequestered in the garrison towns for their own protection.  Thus, when we arrived at the “small” village, we were greeted by throngs of people anticipating the first food distribution.

After meeting with the local commander, we went out to observe the food distribution.  Several sacks of sorghum that were purchased in Malakal were on hand and as the people started queuing up, it was evident that demand far exceeded the supply we had.  There were hundreds of kids and women coming out of seemingly nowhere (many of the homes are in the rocks and trees, not too many compounds lie outside the foothills of the mountains for security reasons).  Hundreds of scoops of grain were put in every kind of bag, dish, and receptacle one could imagine until about 1,000 lbs were distributed.  I realized how important it was to have exceeded our own expectations of what we could make available by joining with the Nuba relief organization, NRRDO.  Together we were able to procure 46 tons of food, which will be sorely needed in Warni and Kau-Niaro in the weeks to come.

One thing was apparent about these people that have been subsisting on weeds, roots, and insects for I don’t know how many months:  They are incredibly strong and resilient.  No one was close to over weight (except me), but everyone except the oldest and youngest appeared remarkably strong.  Even those frighteningly thin.  I realized that weakness is not an option in a place where the sun mercilessly beats down all day, the threat of death from opportunistic disease or hunger looms constantly, and at any time planes could fly overhead and deliver a lethal dose of cluster bombs without concern for the fact that they are being aimed at civilian targets.  Beyond that, I saw a will to survive and overcome these adversities in each and every one of the Nuba people.  I could see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices as I interviewed one after another about what was happening to them and asked what they would like to tell the world.  Stories about the bombings, lack of food, desire for peace, and questions as to why the outside world seems to have forgotten them, were shared with me over and over.   All I could do was nod in sympathy and tell them there were many who cared and were praying for them.  I also let them know that we were going to try and be their voice when we returned with the pictures and videos depicting their plight.  I saw disappointment and even despair in some of them, but I never saw what I’d call a broken people. 

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