My family’s story is inseparable
from the story of my country, even though I have
never really lived there. We moved around a lot and I
grew up in exile, because of the war. My father founded The Sudan
People's Liberation Movement, the SPLM, in 1983, with
my mother by his side. He led an armed struggle against
an Islamic fundamentalist government based in the north of the
country, for the self-determination of the people in the south
and democratic transformation of the whole
country. It was a civil war, characterized by ethnic
as well as religious differences. Our enemies have always presented the
case between Muslims and Christians, between southerners
and northerners. Our new model says
that Sudan is 100%... People have been saying that Sudan
is an Arab country, others say, no, it is not an African country,
it is an African country. Others say, oh, no, it's neither of
the two, it is an Afro-Arab country. And others say, no, it is not that
way, but it is Arabo-African country. Let us also drop these crazy
ideas that we must all be Arabs. Even God will
not accept this. In his infinite wisdom,
it is this same God that made all the 500 different
ethnic groups in the Sudan. And who is this to
amend Gods creation? In 2005, the SPLM and
the Sudanese government signed an historic
peace agreement. As we end this war today, we
believe that a new Sudan is possible. Instead of the pain of
the last 21 years of war, peace will bless
us once more. My father became
Vice President. It looked as though
he was going to deliver on the promise of
the liberation struggle. People were
elated, full of hope. But it did
not last long. On the morning of July 31st, 2005,
the world woke up to the shocking news of the death of
Dr. John Garang. He had been sworn in as the
first vice-president of Sudan, becoming the second most
powerful person in the country. My father spent 21 years at war and died after 21 days in office. We toured the country
as a family, with my father’s body. I will never forget the sound of
despair that started from a distance, and rumbled like it was
coming from the earth. My mother became a
widow the year she turned 50. I was 16. Through her grief, she didn't
only have a family to hold together; people began to call her
"Mother of the Nation." Soon after we
lost my father, my mother started sharing
her dreams and fears with me. Always in the early
hours of the morning. She stepped into our
country's political arena, with the fear that my father
died in vain, and yearning for us, her children,
to come home. I decided to start filming
our morning conversations, in search of my mother’s
dreams, in search of home. This photo is
1977, this picture. And that baby
is Mabior. Let me see. You want me
to bring it out? No, it’s okay. And this is my
daughter Akuol. When was that? When you were 20. Now I am
growing old. For me you are
still my child. I don't know where I
put Nyankuir's photos. Your mum. My mother! And this picture
is from 1985. Look at your mum. That’s your
iconic photo Yes, it is. I pray hard, my daughter, to see, while I am still alive,
a prosperous nation. That’s what I want, that’s how
I wanted to leave my children. I didn’t want to leave them in a
country where people are divided, into pieces, even
to their own core. Six years after
we lost my father, the people of the south voted to
separate from Sudan in a referendum. And a new country
was born: South Sudan. We flooded the streets with
renewed hope and a new home. A nation is born! The scene in South Sudan
is nothing less than electric. Just 2 years after independence,
we fell back into another civil war. The struggle no
longer for freedom, but a power struggle
within our own government. Tonight we begin with claims of
an attempted coup in South Sudan. It started with our
president, Salva Kiir, accusing his
deputy Riek Machar and others of trying to
overthrow his government. As a victim who has
lost a beloved person, is this really what we fought
for, what we are doing today? If things are not going the way
we were really waging our struggle, I will not
keep quiet. My mother was forced back
into exile, to neighboring Kenya, for speaking out
against a leadership that she had spent
decades in struggle with. Another agreement aimed
at peace in South Sudan. They say this time, the deal that
provides for among other things five vice-presidents and 550
members of parliament, will hold. After a series of failed
attempts to restore peace, an agreement was
reached in 2018. And now, we find
ourselves holding our breath. The new peace agreement
planted the possibility of my mother joining a government of
national unity, with a deadline
for it to be formed in November 2019. After years in exile, we came home. This is home, the land
my father gave his life to. Land to which I feel duty bound. In South Sudan, my
father’s image surrounds us. We imagine and
remember different versions of him. Transform him into
the hero we can't be. The day he died is now Martyrs’ Day. He is our founding father. Our departed father
of the liberation struggle. What about our mother who is here? My family
is my world. I don’t access the
world without them. I even told your dad: You put
Sudan first and we will come second. And he said: Mama Mabior,
this is unfair. I love my family. I said: No, I am the
one who loves our family. I wanted my
husband for myself. But the way our people were
being mistreated, it hurts me. I came out with the decision, that God
has given me, that I had to help him, to help our people,
to liberate our people. Can Emma film
in the car with you? Last time. Ever. Tell M’baraka? when he comes. It cannot be ever. Yeah. Emma will come back
when you are president. My goodness. Do I have to keep
quiet about that? No! I don’t even
dream about it. Why? God says that we should
get content with what we have. That’s true. But I will continue advising, because
my children will come into politics. Which ones? Nyankuir. Nyankuir. For the girls,
Nyankuir Why for the girls? Out of all of
us, Nyankuir But you are
there also. Because what you are
doing here is politics. If I had to vote
for a sibling... I know you will
vote for Nyankuir. ...I would vote for
Nyankuir, yeah. What will you take? I’ll take chai. So, you know... I told you that I applied
to Juba University. And I applied for Peace
and Development Studies. So, I said I would rather
study peace than conflict, right, and how this unhealed constant
trauma upon trauma upon trauma can continue to cause instability
politically and can halt peace. Because the leadership
is also traumatized. It's not just
the people. Following Nyankuir from behind the
camera, she seems so sure-footed. When the civil war broke out,
she quit her job to help our mother. She is giving our new
country her vote of confidence. It's as though she is laying
down the one brick she has, and hoping that
more will follow. I admire her. When I look around
Juba, our capital, I see abandoned
construction, abandoned hope. There aren't many viable
ways to make a living, because our economy
is so dysfunctional, our currency
volatile and inflated. I also see the blue chairs that dot
the streets from these small tea shops, most of them set up and run
by women, some very young. They are trying
to find a way. I admire them too. It’s been a series of delays, and even more frustration,
for the African Union. The formation of the Unity
government is long overdue. It is crucial the new
government works. Only then will South Sudan
emerge from the chaos of war. The deadline for government
formation has come and gone, making the tenuous
peace more fragile. And the
wait heavier. We are all waiting
for things to get better. For a stronger
peace and stability. But waiting, for me,
at my mother’s house, is worlds apart from waiting
elsewhere in the capital and beyond. It seems impossible to reconcile
our experiences, our privilege, compared to the overwhelming
lack that surrounds us, our traditions
and modernity. My mother embodies
this paradox. Like my father, she grew up
poor with few opportunities. She also insisted that my sisters
and I learn how to cook, clean, take care of children, so that someday
we'd make good wives and mothers. There never seemed
to be a contradiction between these
things for her. So now I wanted to ask,
with all these kids on the table, do you feel like the country has the
capacity to hold young people’s dreams? The issue is not the country,
the issue is the leaders. Are the leaders ready to
allow the young people to dream about their
country. I would say, for
the time being, no. Do we have to wait until
that leadership is gone? You know,
nothing is stagnant. Nothing is
stagnant. Those leaders will
come and they will go. This 21st day of the month of
February in the year 2020 AD, signed Salva Kiir, President
Republic of South Sudan, do hereby issue this republican
decree for the appointment of the Vice Presidents of the
Republic of South Sudan as follows: His Excellency Dr. James
Wani Igga, Vice-president His Excellency Taban
Deng Gai, Vice-president Her Excellency Rebecca
Nyandeng Garang, Vice-president You should have been
here to hear with us. Atong is there? Atong is there, Nyankuir is
there... Oh, thank you! Thank you. I need a lot of help
from you people. On the 21st of February 2020,
President Salva Kiir issued a decree appointing five vice-presidents
from opposing parties including
my mother. I remember just days before my
father was sworn in as vice president, gathering the courage to
ask my parents if everything is going
to be okay. It sounds innocent, but I
grew up with a sense of duty that left no
room for doubt. That made it difficult
to ask such questions. I didn't know I was going to be a
politician, because I didn't like it. Because politicians seem
to be liars and don't like lying. When I am facing the
government, it’s not only my face, but John Garang,
and I must be careful. What a very
small mirror. Last time we had
the same thing. You should now
buy a bigger one. We cannot work alone; we need
those ministers to be appointed. But they are still,
because of the selection, I think, it is still
a sticking point. They are fighting over the
ministries and I am far from it. Because they just wanted
to throw me the women, gender, social
welfare, humanitarian. They wanted to see the ministries
where the dollars are flying. But they don't know that human
resources is the primary resource for the nation. And I am
happy with it. Later when they see
that we are popular, they will run and say that I
am making a coup against them! What brought it
about in 2013? When we differed
with the government, the whole government was
sacked except President Salva. I was advisor
to the president. My position was there, but I was
against what we were doing as SPLM, as a ruling party. So when I talked with
the president, many times, and the president was
not giving an ear to this. Instead they were
attacking me as an enemy. So, he was against me, why am
I saying that there was no coup? He said I should have
said that there was a coup, so that people could raise their guns to be killed and
I will not accept that. So, I was against that and
I was against the direction we were taking
as SPLM. But, socially, I don’t have any
grudges against him, but, politically, yes I was not happy with
the way he was taking things. Do you think there are people
who still haven't forgiven him? Yes. These people are
not godly people. If God can forgive us, who
are you not to forgive another? And hold grudges
for how long? It's heavy. Love is lighter. I don't know how this
interview is going to come. Interviewing me while
my hair is being cut. It's going to
be so nice. Oh, really. Is this a wig? No, it's my Afro Puff That’s
how I achieve my look. Gosh, the
secrets are here. This is where I
become undone. Wow! You
look so regal. Really? You look like
Marge Simpson. So when I first came to Juba, I
felt like I would cry almost every.. like, I was
so sensitive. There were all of these things
that I had to come to terms with like moving back here,
not speaking the language, trying to kind of
fit in, trying to... I was so conflicted and I
didn't know what I wanted to... It was tough. There were times when
I didn't want to wake up, because I didn't even have a job,
so I didn't know what I was doing. So I would go to Mama, crying, ‘I
don't know what’s wrong with me’ and, like, I couldn't even talk
to people, like communicating. So I would cry and
Mama would be like, everything is
going to be okay and she'd say
the right things. But this time, I don’t
know why, I just asked her I always come to
you crying like this, but has Baba ever
cried to you like this? And she was
like, yes, one time. I don’t know what happened, but I
think he was under a lot of pressure and she said that he cried
in her arms for like 5 minutes. Just crying. When they were
much younger, older? It was during the movement
days so they must been... 80’s or 90’s. And I told someone that story
and they were like: what!?? Not our leader! Garang Mabior? I remember thinking to myself that
if anything were to happen to him, I could manage, like, I
could survive that, losing him. But if anything were to happen
to Mama I couldn't survive that and then I remember,
like, scolding myself for even thinking
something like that. Sometimes I
forget his face. Sometimes. I mean, it's on
there on the paper, right, on the money, everywhere,
but, like how it animates... I told myself that if anything kicks
off again, I am not going to be away. If shit’s happening, I am
going to be close to Mama. If there’s any
kind of insecure... Because 2013, I remember
sitting by the TV, sleeping every day, cuz I was like, is Mama
going to make it home? I was terrified. I think that trauma
kind of stayed with me, but I think that’s
mainly the decision. Maybe that was the decision
that I took to come to Juba. Because I said I am never going to
let it happen that I am away from Mama and there’s some
shit kicking off in Juba, or wherever it is that it’s kicking
off. I said I am going to be here. What is the
question? I was going to ask, why
you choose not to remarry? Who? Me? It's a question
I wouldn't think to ask, but someone else might think to ask. Marry who? I am still the wife to your
father, why marry? Marry what? Some people
get remarried. Nobody behaved
like my husband. Our last oath of office
will be administered to the third vice president, Her
Excellency Rebecca Nyandeng de Mabior. I, Rebecca
Nyandeng de Mabior, do hereby swear
by the almighty God, that as the
Vice President of the Republic
of South Sudan, I shall be faithful and
bear true allegiance to the Republic
of South Sudan so help me God. Congratulations, Your
Excellency, Rebecca. To the citizens of our great republic,
mainly the internally displaced, I am addressing you today for the first
time as one of the vice presidents. Brought in, in this position by
the revitalized peace agreement, on the resolution to the
conflict in South Sudan. Although these are the most segregated
times in our young country's history, we must, in the
spirit of peace today, unite together and move
forward as one people. How were you feeling
when you were sworn in? Until even now, I am
thinking of how to begin. What are we to do? Because
expectation is immense, it's vast. The expectation
of the people. And we, as leaders, we should
be sitting down and think about it that what we received
that day, it’s not a pride, it’s not a prestige,
but a challenge. People of South
Sudan are watching us. After the swearing-in, new
questions are taking over. What is the vision
beyond the struggle? Look at the short history
of our country A civil war two years after
independence. And no end to the
instability in sight. My mother stepping into
the role that my father died in will not be history
repeating itself. She’s not going to be a
martyr of the liberation struggle. She will more likely be remembered for
what she does in this new position. ongoing national violence and
attacks since February this year. Most of those affected are
said to be also in emergency acute food
insecurity phase. The region in South Sudan
witnessed similar flooding last year that affected one million
persons and destroyed... This is ANN
News Brief. Heavy rains and severe flooding
have hit South Sudan Jangalo region. The water level has reportedly
risen to one and a half meters, destroying
many homes. An assessment by the
United Nations Office for the Coordination
of Humanitarian Affairs says an estimated 157,000
persons have already been displaced. Nyankuir organized a
mission to survey what people are calling the worst floods
in our recorded history. They have intensified
existing problems. Over 100,000 people have
lost their homes and livelihoods, and many more
have been affected. It’s still getting higher —
it’s not going to subside. Even the
aftermath might be We need to document it now and also
after when the waters start to recede. My goodness. Some areas, you can identify
small islands of higher ground, but there are some areas like this
where they were completely flooded, as far as
you can see. And you can see over here, this is a
road. This is what would be the road. These are
our villages. You know that you
walked last time there. Look at this woman, just sitting
in the water, selling her things. People have
to survive. So, life was still going on,
people are still continuing, but... Our request
from the Cabinet, if there would be a time that
this thing could be played. My heart is just... It has taken
everything. Because I was
part of the struggle, I also wanted to be part
of the nation building. I wanted
to do that. So, I took it upon myself,
as I am citizen of this country, I wanted to see how I can contribute
to the people of South Sudan. And at the same
time, I am a woman. I am role model
to the young ladies. So, I wanted to
mentor them in this job and to let them know
that anything is possible. The young ladies, the young
men, the youth in general, the women, we need to
give them an opportunity. Well, now we
are not doing that. What we call for, we are
doing the opposite of that. What has been done unto us we
are doing it unto our people now. Even worse than what
the enemy was doing to us. Yes, we have freedom,
but can people eat freedom? Freedom has to come with
some advantages to the people. It looks like there is no peace
on the other side of freedom. And home is not
a place of rest. I still don't know what it
means to be South Sudanese. I do know that the promise
of liberation and independence is not the reality of
liberation and independence. I look to my mother,
but now also to my sister, and the young women who support their
families by serving tea on the roadside. They are the quiet force keeping
things from entirely falling apart. We've been more
than ten years free, most of our compatriots
are struggling to survive. And we are still
holding our breath.
