By Isaac Chol Aguer
“There’s nothing more dangerous than the growth of that parasitic weed called pride…”
Nietzsche said that long before a country called South Sudan existed. But if he were to pass through our streets today, he’d nod in understanding.
Pride? Yes. We are a country of two kinds of pride — the governments and the peoples. And both of them dance.
The government declares 9th July a public holiday… and does nothing else. No announcements. No parades.
Not even a simple apology for not being able to organize a celebration — in a country that passes a national budget every year.
That’s the pride of power: To ignore its people, and still expect them to dance.
But here’s the paradox, my friends: The people do dance. Last night… tonight… every 8th and 9th of July.
Even with hunger, dollar madness, and fading hope. The streets are alive. Old speakers blast music. Fancy cars cruise the dusty roads. The broken, the jobless, the survivor — all dance together.
This isn’t pride. This is stubbornness.
It’s the stubbornness of a people with nothing left but a moment of noise. A moment of cheap joy. A moment to forget tomorrow.
People don’t celebrate because the government told them to. They don’t party because the dollar is down. They celebrate because there’s nothing else to do.
And the tragedy is this: The proud and the broken dance in the same square.
One laughs to hide his failure. The other dances to escape his pain. And when the music stops… nothing changes.
This is the parasitic weed Nietzsche spoke of.
The fake pride that grows in both the rulers and the ruled. A government too proud to admit its weakness. And a people too stubborn to demand better. And the saddest part?
Every single one of us — the minister, the boda-boda rider, the NGO worker, the lawyer who danced last night — knows that tomorrow will be no different. Same hunger.
Same roads. Same broken promises. Same songs.
So yes — it’s not a sin to laugh. It’s not wrong to dance.
But the real shame… Is when we celebrate in the same way every year. Then wake up to the same emptiness. It’s a shame to fool ourselves…
To say “We are still here” without asking:
Why here? And for how long?
The proud need to humble themselves.
The broken need to stand, not just survive. And those dancing need to know why they’re dancing.
This is a country, not a party.
“Happy Independence Anniversary to the stubborn hearts that refuse to disappear.”