Northern Bahr el Ghazal (NBeG) is reported to be the poorest area of South Sudan… and I believe it.
The state has a severe lack of infrastructure. Because of the war, and environmental conditions such as regular flooding and droughts, there has been little progress in terms of development.
We work closely with many partners to implement our program, including Water and Education offices at both state and local levels. Although there is a major dependence on international assistance for the most basic of services, these government agencies are doing their best to alleviate the suffering of their people, who are emerging from decades of trauma.
This week, we stopped by the State Ministry of Education to give them a report on our activities. The Senior Inspector of Schools and the Director of Planning and Budgets warmly greeted us. They wanted very much to discuss the water crisis at the schools. They explained that they were very concerned that schools were scheduled to start back in session in a few weeks and the entire area was still extremely dry. Without available water at the schools, clean or not, they were not sure how the children would be able to endure the average heat of 105°F (which can escalate to 118°F), at their outdoor classes.
The children in most of these schools are studying under trees and in huts, rather than in classrooms, so they are easily distracted. It’s a problem if it’s too dry; it’s a problem if it’s too wet. From our early assessments, I knew that teaching under these extreme conditions is a real challenge.
With conditions like this at the schools, there is little incentive for families to even send their children to school, usually if just some of the children are allowed to attend school it is the boys who are favored. Most schools do not have water or toilets. There is also a cultural tendency to keep children at home, once they reach a certain age, to tend the animals, dig the gardens, fetch water and perform domestic duties.
It is hard to over exaggerate the desperate water situation in this area. And although the need for this crucial resource is very high on everybody’s priority list, the unfortunate reality is, education is not as high, especially in the villages. From our past experiences, we are hopeful this water will serve as an incentive to encourage these families to send their children to school, especially the girls.
Our field team spent the past three months diligently assessing schools, mobilizing the communities and getting MOUs signed to define everyone’s responsibility in relation the construction and management of the wells. The drillers were busy in the field, progressing at about one well a week.
I was eager to get into the field myself and see how things were moving along. I wanted to find out which of our strategies were working and get input from the field crews on where we might want to make adjustments.

When we arrived at the first school, water was flowing! The hand pump was not yet installed, but the drillers were pump testing to determine the hourly yield of the well. Yet, that was no deterrent to the many children who could not stay away from the excitement of fresh water. It was hot and they were very happy. The local women were already filling their containers with water as the head teacher and community members were monitoring everything and assisting with any needs of the drillers. It was a happy day for all and a beautiful sight to behold.
Although dozens of families had left their homes and migrated to the swamps for relief during the December through April dry season, school was scheduled to start soon and they would be returning.
In December, before the villagers left the area, we mobilized each of the communities to explain the project and sign the MOUs. Now, we were just waiting for the families to return so we could form the Water User Committees which consist of men and women from the village; draft By Laws for how the water point would be managed to ensure sustainability; elect a caretaker, and conduct hygiene training.
Engaging the villagers in their ownership, and the decision-making processes surrounding the wells, is essential to enhancing their capacity to help themselves and facilitate change.
We have a big job ahead of us as we try to convince these communities of the importance of education. Thankfully, we are gaining their trust with our first step, providing this much-needed water. There is no denying that safe water and good hygiene practice keep children healthy. And healthy children have healthy minds. This region needs those healthy minds as it strives to pull itself up and move forward.
Sometimes this work seems tough and thankless, the days are long, the weather is oppressively hot and the task seems immense. But just when you are feeling like everything is a struggle, you have a day like this and see just how much of an enormous impact clean water is going to have on the day-to-day lives of this community and school, and it equally inspires us to move forward.

While having lunch in the South Sudan town of Aweil recently, we had the pleasure of meeting the director for a German NGO, GIZ.  He struck up a conversation and when he learned we were helping to provide water in the region, asked if we’d be able to meet with him about something after lunch.
Apparently, their organization, in conjunction with USAID, has a big project of constructing 100 homes for the elderly returnees near one of the settlements.  But, the problem is, there is no water in the area.
Along with the community needing water for drinking and all of their daily needs, they also need water to make their bricks for building, which the communities make and GIZ then buys from them.  They asked if there was any way we could consider working in this area.   I put our field crew in touch with their field guys and we’re now trying to see if we can help.  It’s all about partnerships around here.  It’s the best way of getting anything done.  The task is enormous and you really have to work together.
Many of the people coming back were living in the Northern camps and don’t have jobs or money.  It’s tricky because this is their homeland and they love their people.  But in some ways their lives in the North were easier. There are a lot of challenges in the South.

We met one lady who was running a little tea stand.  It was her first time to ever have a small business.   She had two children who were helping her, a 14-year-old named Deng and an 8-year-old called Mathen Koul.  When we asked her how the kids were adjusting, she said, “not well,” but that she keeps telling them things will get better.   Her biggest concern is getting enough money each day to buy a small amount of food for them to eat.

The children in the villages surrounding Aweil only speak their tribal language, Dinka.   Deng and Koul do not speak Dinka but instead a different version of Arabic than what is spoken in South Sudan.   English is the new national language, but people mostly speak Juba-Arabic (a combination of Arabic and Swahili) and their tribal languages.  It is great that Deng and Koul speak very good English, but I worry about how these children of the returnees are going to adjust to these Southern schools.   The schools in town are much better than the ones in the villages.  In these remote villages there is little motivation for children to attend; studying is conducted under the trees with no chairs or desks and two classes often simultaneously take turns sharing one chalkboard.
But education is definitely the key, and that’s what we’re here to do. There is no way this country will progress if these children are not educated.  We are dedicated to providing the incentives needed to get these kids to school, and keep them there!
This starts with providing water and sanitation.  I know that having water at these schools is going to make a huge difference, not only in terms of healthy bodies and healthy minds.  We’ve seen what it’s done in Uganda and other areas of South Sudan in terms of keeping girls in class.  So far, I’m seeing very few girls in these Aweil schools.   But that just has to change.
As I watch the women struggle to work each day, with babies on their backs, I know there is a need, and desire, for family planning strategies.   I spend a lot of time in the villages and have learned that not all women want 15 children.  They don’t think they have options.  This is another area where education would be invaluable.
We just have to provide some motivation to keep them in school and we’re developing some fantastic initiatives for doing just that.  Building on what we’ve learned from our past projects, we have a five-year plan that we know will make a difference.   Our crews are in the field.  School starts April 1^st and we’re ready to go!
We need to put a dollar amount on what it will cost to get girls in school and make it possible for them to stay in school. Whatever the cost, it will be far more cost effective than allowing the situation to continue the way it is.
The former UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan had this to say on the matter- “Study after study has taught us that there is no tool for development more effective than the empowerment of women. No other policy is as likely to raise economic productivity, or to reduce infant and maternal mortality. No other policy is as sure to improve nutrition and promote health—including the prevention of HIV/AIDS. No other policy is as powerful in increasing the chances of education for the next generation. And I would also venture that no policy is more important in preventing conflict, or in achieving reconciliation after a conflict has ended. But whatever the very real benefits of investing in women, the most important fact remains: Women themselves have the right to live in dignity, in freedom from want and from fear.”
There is no way to say it better.

Drop in the Bucket started off the New Year on a great note.  We received a wonderful Christmas present this year from UNICEF in South Sudan.  They donated two Land Cruisers to assist our field teams in our work.  This is a tremendous upgrade for us from old beat down vehicles we’ve been getting around in.

Over the holidays, our always-reliable logistical director, George and one of our South Sudan consultants, Majodit, were in Juba dealing with everything related to the new trucks.  They finalized our NGO registrations with the new government, got the trucks registered, insured and ready for action.  I felt bad that they were spending time doing this when they should have been celebrating with their families, but they were insisting.  We are all so grateful to now have safe, reliable transportation to navigate the treacherous, unpaved terrain.

George and Majodit’s dedication to our projects is incredible.    These guys have fought their entire lives for the freedom of their country and they are extremely devoted to continuing to help with the struggle. They love being in a position to really help their people, many of whom are desperate for the most basic of services.  Water, food and education are at the top of that list.
When I returned to the US for the holidays, the humanitarian community was preparing for the major influx of returnees that were coming back from the North into South Sudan. Driving through the streets of Aweil this time, it was clear that they had come…. and were still coming.
The UN estimates that since July around 328,000 people have returned to South Sudan. The final destination for 100,000 of them was Northern Bahr el Ghazal State (Aweil) and its two neighboring states.

The streets of Aweil were flooded with people. There were donkeys pulling carts loaded with USAID bags of sorghum, a local grain staple. The street kids were out in droves searching for a piece of bread or small change.
It is clear that the additional people are definitely taking a toll on the region and there is a food shortage that’s reached crisis level. Even the donkeys and horses around Aweil Town looked weak and hungry, with their bones protruding, as they struggled to haul their carts.
People are really guarded so I don’t take many photos. I don’t want to offend them or have them in any way think we are going to exploit the suffering.
We are careful to let people know that we want to hear from them, work WITH them to address their crisis.
Although there was a real sense of desperation in town, I knew things were even much worse in the villages. There are many areas that we can only access during the dry season (December – May). I learned that in August 2011 , at the same time we were doing our preliminary assessments in Aweil, 350 people had died of starvation in a remote returnee camp in the next state over, Warrap.
It’s so hard for me to accept that people are dying of starvation and from drinking contaminated water, when I see people around the world who have so much… and waste so much. But here there is no waste around here.
Food prices have gone through the roof, increasing by almost 50% since last August. Over the summer you could buy a 50-kilo bag of sorghum for 130 South Sudanese pounds. Now it’s 180 SSP. People cannot afford to feed their families.
Looking around at the dry barren landscape, you see a lot of potential farmland. And underground water is easily accessed, with the right equipment. The largest aquifer in all of Africa sits underneath this particular region. It’s rare to drill and not reach water. This is water that could also be used as irrigation for the vast stretches of farmland. It’s hard to believe that this area is so rich with untapped resources and, at the same time, the people are dying of hunger and from drinking contaminated water. But on a positive note, I’m meeting good, smart people out here every single day who are all collaborating to make a difference.

Finding something to eat in Northern Bahr El Ghazal is always very challenging. On our initial trip in July, we pretty much ate beans and rice at every meal. This time we decided to go to the market and select our own food. We then convinced the hotel cooks to prepare the meals for us and paid them separately for the work.
The market had a small selection locally grown food. We got pumpkin, eggplant, different kinds of greens, tomatoes and cucumbers. It was awesome coming back from the field each day to a delicious dinner that was something other than beans and rice.

Everything was working beautifully until one day the cooks had a dispute over who was cooking and how the money was divided. After that, the food started coming out cold and not well prepared. I was nervous about having people who were not happy preparing our food, so we abandoned that plan decided to go back to eating beans and rice in town.
We knew we weren’t staying at a Four Seasons, but as the days progressed our hotel became increasingly taxing. I tried to make the best of things but some days it was hard. We brought our own sheets and towels but it was still a real challenge. The US health department would have shut them down by American standards. The place was unbearably hot; there was no toilet paper half the time, a dirty, leaky bathroom (ironically), and beds with no mosquito nets, just to name a few things. On top of this, it was expensive. But there was nowhere else to stay. Breakfast was included in the price. It consisted of tea and bread, and they were usually out of either one or the other.
One day we met a veterinarian from Vets without Borders. He had lived in Somalia for 30 years and was doing some fieldwork in the area. We became fast friends when I shared an extra tea bag and some bread with him after the hotel told him they had nothing for his breakfast. I enjoyed talking to him about his work and was disappointed when he informed me the hotel was too awful for him to stay and he had contacted a friend from another aid organization and was going to stay in their compound. I realized I would need to make some friends of my own, and quickly.
There was a small fridge in the room with a freezer that worked overnight, when the generator was running. Every night I would freeze bottles of water so we’d have cold water for a couple of hours in the morning. The ones I left in the freezer during he day would remain cold until we got back from the field in the afternoon, even though the power was off during the day. Honestly, that cold water seemed like the best thing in the world when we came in exhausted and dirty at the end of the day.
I also paid a lady to heat me water every night for showering. Otherwise, the water from the tap was pretty dirty and cold, so it was difficult to feel clean.
The hot water for bathing and cold water for drinking are maybe the two things that kept me sane at that hotel. We’re definitely going to need to set up our own small compound there soon.
Each day before heading off to the field, we would fuel up the truck from a roadside stand that sold jugs filled with gas. The attendant would siphon the fuel into a hose with his mouth and then put it into the truck.

Midway through the second week I decided I didn’t trust our truck anymore. We had broken down several times and were traveling deeper and deeper into the villages. I felt we needed a more reliable vehicle and asked George to find someone else in town who would rent us something better. I felt bad firing Dut, since he’d already been driving us for over a week, but this was not personal. We just couldn’t risk breaking down in these remote areas.
Thankfully, George found us an alternate vehicle that day. We were traveling with the Director of Education for all of Aweil East County, which included 128 schools. We had just left a school and were driving on a remote dirt road when our new truck completely quit. Despite cajoling a number of people to help us push it, our efforts were useless. We had one bottle of water left and the heat was excruciating. There were no other vehicles traveling on the road and no cell reception. We were completely stranded.

Although we had airtime in our satellite phone, we couldn’t think of anybody to call. The driver tried his friends but they didn’t have another vehicle available. People around these parts just don’t have personal cars and trucks. If you’re lucky, you have a motorcycle. The education director didn’t even know anybody we could call. After weighing all of our options, we realized our only choice was to call our original driver, Dut. By this point it was around 3PM and he was not happy about the idea of driving several hours to pick us up. But he reluctantly agreed. Then we sat at the side of the road waiting, and waiting, and waiting. We were there for five hours total, with one bottle of water, which seemed ironic.
The five of us moved from truck, to shade tree, back to truck. I fantasized about all of the cold things I would drink when I got back to civilization. But everybody remained calm and just tried to make the best of things. I got the feeling that the situation was not new to any of the others. The Education Director even commented that I was really getting see how people struggle.

We did, however, meet some very interesting people while we were sitting there. We shot interviews about the water crisis with people walking by and did our best to pass the time. Every now and then somebody would get the urge to try to push start the truck again, and we’d all give it a go. But in the end, it was Dut to the rescue, just as it was about to get dark.
We finally got back to Aweil Town, at about 10:00, starving and exhausted. We searched for somewhere to get dinner but everything was closed or else all their food was gone. I had a package of pasta in my bag, so we found someone who agreed to boil it for us. For dinner that night we had plain pasta poured onto a large, shared platter that we ate with our fingers. But it was delicious.
For me some weeks are easier than others, and this one had its fair share of challenges. That said, it’s tough to complain, because for the people who live here this week was not really too different from any other week.

The more time I spend in the field, the more I realize just how fortunate I am and how much I take for granted as a basic human right.   Most of the suffering in this region is the result of decades of war and it’s going to take some time, and international assistance, for these communities to get back on track now that the country has their independence.  The biggest issues are access to water, no roads, poor education and lack of healthcare.  People die from everyday things that should not be fatal.   The maternal mortality rate is outrageous and children under the age of five easily succumb to illnesses and die.
One day when we were in the field we saw this man and wife walking down the road, in the blazing mid-day sun, carrying their lifeless daughter (about 7 years old).   The little girl was delirious with malaria and they were walking several hours away to a clinic, so she could receive treatment.  I’ve never seen anybody with that condition.  She was imagining things that were not happening and crying out.  Her eyes were bulging out.  We gave them a ride.  When we got to the clinic, it was a thatched shack with an intravenous drip and a bed.  There was already somebody being treated, so her family had to wait.   So many kids around here die everyday of malaria and I really hope we were able to get her there in time.

Some days the task seems so enormous that I wonder if we are even making any difference at all.  It’s hard not to get discouraged when you see such suffering everywhere.  At times it feels like we are just a “drop in the ocean.”   But water is a major issue and we ARE helping with that.   We can physically see our impact and although it may seem small by comparison, it’s not small at all to the people who need it.  To them, it’s huge.
Each of the boreholes we’re going to install at the schools in Northern Bahr el Ghazal will provide water to 2500 people, but this number represents the population now. This amount will dramatically increase when the returnees come.  It’s also good that we’re focusing on schools and existing communities since pretty much everybody else is dealing with the returnee emergency.
Because of this, we were really welcomed by the other organizations.   We were given the opportunity introduce ourselves a number of times in large meetings and were asked to make a presentation on our sanitation system three times.
For all the frustration that comes from the enormity of the situation, there are these wonderful people from the international NGOs up here working so hard to help out.  They all collaborate and work well together, sharing information, resources and ideas.  I think it helps to keep everyone from going crazy!
One person helped us convert our budget to reflect the prices in the region.  Materials costs are 200% higher than in other areas we work, if they are even available at all.   We heard stories about people waiting three weeks for cement to arrive.  Most things are imported from Kenya or Uganda.
We’re also partnering with a wonderful community organization who has funding for hygiene training.  They will take on this part of our program until we get our team in place for that.  They are very experienced and know the region well.
By the last few days in Aweil, I was ready to get back to Juba.   We were up super early everyday to get to field and see just one school before they let out at midday.  It was two weeks of hot, hard work and we were dirty and exhausted.   I was literally covered in mosquito bites.
Finally, toward the end of our stay, we found another lady in town to cook for us.  She seated us at a small table outside her dilapidated shack where she served us delicious local food she cooked over an open fire.
Sitting there in the evenings, I began to realize how many homeless street children there are in Aweil Town.  I had seen several of them sleeping on shop verandas during the day but thought they were the exception.  They were not.   As we sat there each night, we met the most charming, witty, smart, dirty, young homeless street kids. They were mostly boys, but there were a few girls.  They seemed to really look out for each other.   Although their situation was super heartbreaking, they entertained us with their humorous interactions, Michael Jackson moves and made up songs. I think some of them may have, unfortunately, been a little bit tipsy from something. But most were trying to make the best of things and were just being kids. We ended up buying dinner for some of them most nights.  We’d start with two or three and then word would get around and others would start coming.  They would share plates of beans and rice and were surprisingly diligent about washing their hands before eating.  Maybe they were happy to have the opportunity to use some soap and wash up.
Although it’s hard living, exhausting work and unsanitary living conditions at times, Northern Bahr el Ghazal is one of the most needy places on the planet — and knowing the situation, we can’t turn away and leave them.  So we are just going to have to figure out a way to make things a little more bearable because we have a lot of work to do there and this is just the beginning.
We returned to Juba just in time to bid on a Land Cruiser that UNICEF was auctioning off.   We also spent the week dealing with NGO business at the ministries.
One day when we were having lunch this crazy older man came into the restaurant ranting.   He was speaking Arabic and I couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying but he seemed like an insane homeless man.  I was surprised when several other men in the restaurant not only showed him a lot of admiration, but at one point they all started engaging him in songs, which they all seemed to know. The spectacle was so interesting and it worked in calming him down.   I later learned that he was a very well respected general who had led one of the original battalions of the South Sudan revolution, in the early 1980s.   Most of the people in the café seemed to overlook him as they checked their Facebook pages and enjoyed their lunch.   Although the years of war had taken their toll on his mind, those former soldiers of the SPLA had definitely not forgotten him.   He told the men that every month when he receives his military salary he buys soda, water and beer that he pours on the grave of the late Dr. John Garang, the leader of their revolution.   It’s clear that he wishes his old friend could be here today to see how people are enjoying the freedom and liberty for which they had fought and sacrificed their entire lives.