By Isaac Chol Aguer
In my neighborhood, the price of onions changes faster than the price of loyalty. Yesterday, one cost 1,000 SSP. Today it’s 1,500 SSP. Tomorrow? Maybe your grandmother’s savings.
I asked the vendor what happened. “The dollar,” he said. A powerful thing, this dollar. It can raise the dead, topple marriages, and turn a bag of rice into a luxury. I often wonder if the dollar sits somewhere in a bar, laughing as it watches us argue over its latest mischief.
In Juba, people don’t discuss politics anymore. It’s bad for your blood pressure and worse for your career. Instead, we argue about tomatoes, soap, and which Boda boda rider charges the least to get you across a city where traffic lights are mythical creatures we’ve only read about on Social Media platforms.
A friend of mine sold his laptop yesterday to buy cooking oil. Another traded his Chinese smartphone for four sacks of charcoal. If you ever wanted to see capitalism in its raw, prehistoric form — come visit us. Here, we don’t trade stocks. We trade hope.
And the funny thing? No one’s surprised.
The man who once had a degree now hawk airtime. The woman who once taught chemistry now sells boiled eggs. The youth who once believed in elections now believes in foreign visas. The only people doing well are mosquitoes — fat, healthy, and running the most efficient blood collection agency in the country.
We used to talk about peace. Now we talk about fuel. We used to talk about unity. Now we talk about exchange rates. I miss the old days Gorilla-times when our problems were bullets. At least you could see them coming.
Nowadays, it’s the quiet things that kill you. The hunger that pretends to be tiredness. The debt that pretends to be forgetfulness. The friend who changes numbers and forgets to tell you.
But this is South Sudan. We were born into chaos, baptized in suspicion, and raised on rumor. Somehow, we survive. Not because we’re heroes. But because in this land, to live one more day is an act of defiance.
And so, we wake up tomorrow, check the dollar rate before brushing our teeth, and head out into the sun, chasing miracles disguised as onions.
The End for today!
Alright, my friends — same page, same time, another day. Maybe something better to say.