Sudan: Caught in the Middle of Armed Militias
By Basil Safi

March 15th started like any other day here in Sudan. I awoke with the sun feeling refreshed and ready to start my program anew after my few days in Loki. As my usual field officer was not in attendance yet, I left in the morning with a trusted supervisor to do some ABATE training about 1 hour's walk from my camp.

I had been hired by the Carter Center, an organization dealing with infectious diseases in developing countries, to serve as a technical advisor to the Sudan Guinea Worm Eradication Program. Guinea worm disease is an ancient parasitic disease that is relatively unknown, but so painful and debilitating that its effects reach far beyond a single person. As Guinea worm has no cure, the eradication efforts are achieved largely through health education and the distribution of water filters for home and personal use.

The morning's training went rather well and we were even able to give some health education to a band of militia we saw. They actually all recognized me from a session I had done with them along the frontier where they were fighting. Operating under the UN umbrella of Operation Lifeline Sudan (OLS), the Carter Center operates in the rebel-controlled south. It was negotiated with the Government of Sudan (GOS) and the Sudan People's Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A) to deliver humanitarian assistance to all civilians in need, regardless of their location.

Because of the war, which came to a peace agreement in 2005, militias are still heavily armed and eager to strengthen their tribe or clan's position within the country. Most of the local battles in the areas I was in were between the farming Dinka tribe and the cattle-herding Nuer tribe. These fights were usually instigated by the theft of prized cows, or because of inter-clanal disputes.

After taking some pictures with the militia, they went off and we slowly followed behind as they were walking in the same general direction. About 15 mins later they were out of sight and I was chatting with my supervisor about plans for the afternoon. Just then, I felt something was wrong.

The family in front of us stopped dead in their tracks and were all looking to the left at something on the other side of the trees blocking my view. Then they started running the opposite way. For some reason, the fact that the dad was leaving his family in the dust really sent chills down my spine. As we walked ahead we saw our militia friends yelling and all sprinting in the same direction. Hmm, never a good sign when the guys with guns are running (they taught us that in security training).

So, we approach ever so slowly toward the airstrip that separates the community we were just in, to Lietnom, where my base is. We arrive and the whole town is moving out with a battalion of the Sudanese People's Liberation Army (SPLA) close on their tails. At this point I'm deciding to either disappear back into the bush for an extended day or Guinea Worm training, or sneak back into my compound. However, sneaking back to the compound meant certain contact with this battalion.

My supervisor stops a man to ask what the hell is going on and he explains that the SPLA is disarming the civilians and lashing all those found with any weapons (spears included). My supervisor is worried about his family and insists that we make our way to his place to be safe and avoid being caught in the open. Knowing that his home is next to the Sudanese Rehabilitation and Reconstruction Commission (SRRC), the humanitarian wing of the SPLA, and "protector" of people like me, I think it's a good call. However, on the wide angle out of town and to his house I see that the World Relief truck is parked at the clinic and within earshot of where we're heading. They are extremely relieved to see me and had driven to the clinic to evacuate all their staff back to the compound. So we all pile in and race back to compound with no incident.

From over our walls we can look inside the center of town to see what is happening. The SPLA are collecting all the guns from the community and transporting them to the Commissioner's complex. As I've mentioned before people love their guns here and aren't too thrilled about giving them away. This only heightens the aggression and there are big arguments breaking out all around the town. I pull out the binoculars that were given to me by my friend and witness to a scene where the army men are beating the daylights out of guy on the ground.

Although there is a mob around him, I can see the wooden sticks being raised over the heads of several men as they bring it down again and again. This continues all around the town for some time and we make a radio call to the UN security office in Loki to inform them of the tense situation. To get a better assessment the watchman, a boy of 18 years old, is sent out to scout for reasons why this is escalating so much. He returns 10 mins later having been beat-up by the soldiers and robbed of his watch and fisherman's hat. He relates how the soldiers have been robbing the people, beating them with no good cause, and looting the houses they've searched.

Again I look through the binoculars and see 2 soldiers arguing with an old man on a bicycle and stealing the goat he has with him. At around 2pm, the SPLA Commissioner sends one of his henchmen to tell us that the situation is normal and that everything is under control. I immediately interrupt him and point to out our injured watchman. I explain that the UN has already raised Lietnom to Level-3 and that they are sending security personnel first thing in the morning to make an assessment. The henchman becomes infuriated with me and tells me that the Commissioner isn't going to be happy. "Not happy" meaning that if the aid agencies have to evacuate, they don't get airdrops of food and none of us can come back for 1 month.

Just to explain a little, South Sudan is on the same scale of danger as a country like Afghanistan, Phase 3 status. Iraq is a 5 and the USA is not even a 1. South Sudan has been rated as a UN-deemed "Hostile Environment", meaning that no UN Peace Keeping Forces are allowed in yet. Through Operation Lifeline Sudan, the umbrella of agencies that fall under UN protection (like the Carter Center) are under constant surveillance and planes sit ready with pilots to evacuate staff if conditions ever surpass "normal" operating conditions. They make a blanket assessment of all parts of South Sudan and call them Level-2, "operate with caution because a hell storm might start at any time". Level-3 is "the hell clouds are overhead". Level-4 is "hell has officially hit the fan". Level-5 is "I'm up hell’s Creek without a paddle".

So again, in the afternoon Lietnom was raised to Level-3 and everyone is on standby with their quick-run kits by the door incase an evacuation is called. The ghost town of Lietnom eventually starts getting repopulated at 5pm and the resounding sound of women crushing grain can be heard once again. The security officer from Loki calls me personally to get my take on things and says that he's bringing in an assessment team first thing in the morning. My supervisors come back and laugh at the fact that I was overreacting and that this is all normal in Sudan. They are full of shit and I know for a fact that there were hiding inside with their families too.

I go out of the gates to see if any soldiers are around and am told that they had all moved on to the next town. The little boys see me standing there and ask if I'm up for a little soccer on the airstrip. The kids all admit to having been scared and running away with their families that afternoon. I politely decline the soccer and stroll back into my hut to undress for a shower.

My shorts are down to my ankles when the crack of an AK-47 blast resounds about 30 ft behind me! I hit the deck and crawl on the ground to begin putting my cloths on again when I hear a mass of screaming men running just outside the walls behind me. Other shots are fired, and I make sure to stay far away from the windows. After a few minutes I peek my head outside my door to see how my friends are fairing and they are all hidden too.

Not two minutes later a noise that sounds like a cannon is heard on the other side of the compound, BOOOOOOM. I have no idea what gun makes that kind of noise, but it obviously hit something because all is suddenly quiet. By this point, I am ready to run and have filled my water bottles, stretched my legs and ready to hit the open road at the drop of a dime.

Through the holes in the fence I can see young men milling all around the fields between us and the river itself. It's not long before they concentrate around a particular place about 50m away from where I am. They are looking at the ground. Again I pull out the binoculars just in time to see a dead body lifted from the grass and carried away. "They killed him," I couldn't help saying.

At this point I'm thinking that the compound is my best option and that my security decreases exponentially the further I get from this "safe-house" I'm in. The sweaty and haggard looking water-boy runs in and tells me that the sound that was heard was a grenade being exploded. The shooting had been a group of militia causing problems with the Commissioner and they fired some rounds at the fleeing men. Moments later, the pursuit had ended up on the other side of us where a drunk SPLM soldier tried to throw a grenade, but dropped it into the tall grass after pulling the pin, but before throwing it properly.

I begin discussing the next move with my supervisors. An emissary of the Commissioner comes back and tells us once again that "everything is normal". I reply "Oh yeah, because I just saw a man get blown up by a damn grenade". He continues to say that the situation is now under control and that we have nothing to worry about. "Normal" to me, means that I'm sitting by the pool drinking a beer (even though it posses a slight risk to my liver). "Normal" is not making love to the mud floor of this hut in hopes that a bullet or grenade doesn't come my way.

So my evacuation orders came in that night and I was asked to sit tight, find some guards, and wait till morning. Eventually we rustle up 2 armed policemen to stand guard at the gate, our 18-yr old radio operator goes home and gets his AK-47, and we set up a perimeter watchman too. After a nice long prayer, I pull my bed in from outside, and hope for a night without any surprises. The morning comes without incident and the UN plane arrives promptly at 8:30am and goes straight to the Commissioner's office to have a meeting. Everyone living there is scared to death of this guy and refuse to say a word at the meeting as to why security was called.

So, again I describe the shooting behind my head and the guy who blew himself to pieces. The Commissioner replies, "Well Basil, I know you're from America where this stuff is not usual, but here in Sudan, it's normal."

The security officer deemed the situation, "not normal," and I grabbed my things and hopped onto his flight out of the area.