In 1981, Monica shared a classroom with a handsome student named Joseph. Each day they came to school, they could steal glances at one another repeatedly.
One fine day, Joseph approached Monica and asked for her hand in love, which she accepted wholeheartedly. They became inseparable as they looked forward to becoming husband and wife in future.
Despite his inseparability with Monica, Joseph was, on the other hand, involved in extracurricular activities, such as sports and mostly, youth politics at the school. Political parties, such as NCP, SPLM, NIF, to mention a few, were all allowed to conduct political rallies within the school premises. Joseph was a prominent member of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM), the then rebel movement of the then-Southern Sudanese.
When the oppression reached its climax in Khartoum, Sudan, Joseph organized a peaceful strike and ringleader it. Unfortunately, the strike was contained and Joseph, the ring leader, was apprehended and put in prison. Monica wept over Joseph bitterly as if imprisonment was a synonym for death. A few months later, Joseph was released and he immediately fled Khartoum, came to Southern Sudan and joined the SPLA in 1987; a movement he swore by God to dedicate and commit himself to, whatever the consequences.
Monica and Joseph became separated, but she kept to her promise of marrying Joseph as her husband; a promise that came true in 1993 when they officially married. Fortunately, they bore their first child, a baby boy, and they named him “Tarir”. They bore another male child and named him “Kalany”. In 1997 during the massive expulsion of Arabs in all the major towns in Southern Sudan, Joseph fought like a lion. From a direction not known, an RBG was fired and the bullet landed on Joseph. Shortly, Joseph succumbed to the injuries of the RBG.
The sad news was broken to Monica and she wept bitterly, regretting for beginning a happy life they did not see its end, together with Joseph. But Joseph’s colleagues consoled her adequately and kept telling her to be herself. At that time, Monica was pregnant with her third born. She gave birth to a female child and named her “Akec”. Akec is a Dinka name for a child whose father died when he/she was not yet born. Monica was widowed at a younger age, but she gained some courage and promised to raise the children well to carry Joseph’s legacy ahead.
It is a culture that a widow, at a child-bearing age, should be given to someone to bear children with. And such children are for the dead husband. A widow is inherited by the deceased husband’s brother, cousin or anyone related to him by blood; a culture currently on the brink of diminution. Monica refused to be inherited. She said 3 children were enough and that, she would focus on raising them adequately rather than producing more that would complicate their upbringing. But people kept talking to Monica to change her mind and accept inheritance to produce more children; a matter she looked into and found genuine.
She was inherited by her deceased husband’s brother in 2004 and bore twin boys. She began a new life, with twins and with a new breadwinner at home. Though a little bit happy, Monica could not forget her late husband. Any time she recalled her memories with him, she could shed tears unknowingly. Monica did not go far with her new man. She bore her fifthborn with him and bid farewell to child-bearing. She completely refused to produce another child, saying she would struggle hard to raise her five kids in a standard way. Indeed, she raised her children very well.
Her late husband’s brother, the one who inherited her, was a soldier. One sad morning in the month of February 2025, he went to Bilpam HQs to attend a military parade and from there, he was given a gun, picked up and taken to Nasir, where dogfighting was taking place. Two days later, Monica heard the sad news that the man who inherited her had been killed in the Nasir war. Again, Monica cried bitterly, asking God a question, what did I do to deserve this double punishment?
War, whether internal, like what is happening in Nasir, or external, is not good at all. I would want to end by citing Erich Hartmann’s popular quote “In War, young people who don’t know each other and don’t hate each other, kill each other, because of decisions made by old people who know each other and hate each other, but don’t kill each other”.
Thanks for “Sowing The Seed Of Truth”.