In December 2013 South Sudan's capital city, Juba, exploded in violence. Fighting between troops loyal to the ousted vice president Riek Machar and those loyal to President Salva Kiir was followed by a wave of ethnic violence. Members of the Nuer ethnic group, who were seen as sympathizing with the opposition forces, were viciously attacked as neighbors turned against one another. One aid worker living in Juba at the time told RI, "We were looking at a potential genocide."
The village of Pagak lies in Ethiopia’s Gambella region on the western border with South Sudan. Pagak essentially exists on both sides of the border, and in better times, people would move from one country to another primarily to meet friends and relatives, engage in trade, or transport livestock.
From the massive migration of an estimated 70,000 unaccompanied children to the U.S. border this past summer to President Barack Obama’s recent executive action on immigration reform, issues facing Central America have entered the national spotlight here in the US. The underlying internal displacement trends within Central America have not received as much attention, but are perhaps even more important as they reveal a frightening relationship between gang violence and forced migration within Central America.
South Sudan is continuing to reel from internal conflict that ignited in the capital Juba a little more than a year ago and quickly spread throughout the country. On December 15th, 2013, fighting erupted in Juba between soldiers loyal to former Vice President Riek Machar and those loyal to President Salva Kiir. More than one year on the fighting continues, primarily in Jonglei, Unity, and Upper Nile states in the north.
This is the first of two guest posts by journalist Moulid Hujale. To read the second post, click here.
After completing a five days assessment mission to the port city of Kismayo in southern Somalia earlier this year, 19 refugee representatives from the Dadaab camps in Kenya have found that the current security and socioeconomic situation is not fit for returnees despite the local administration’s promise to provide such a conducive environment.
In the beachside village of Jagnayan, I walk along the rows of plywood temporary shelters – known here as bunkhouses – looking for Estralia, a woman I met when I was here last February. The residents of the bunkhouses are typhoon survivors whose homes were destroyed when super-typhoon Haiyan, the strongest ever to make landfall, wrought total destruction across this region a little over a year ago. More than 6,000 people were killed and 4 million left homeless.
This month, the Philippines is marking the one-year anniversary of Typhoon Haiyan – one of the strongest typhoons ever to make landfall. The international response to the typhoon was immediate and robust – essential given the reality that over four million people were displaced by the storm.
But this week, I am in the Philippines to mark the one-year anniversary of another humanitarian crisis – one that is coming without fanfare.
In a recent speech to his governing board, UN High Commissioner for Refugees Antonio Guterres made an intriguing but little-noticed proposal - that the humanitarian response to major emergencies should in future be partly funded by assessed rather than voluntary contributions.
But what exactly did he mean by that?
The country of Sudan has been plagued by war since it was granted independence from Britain in 1955. Conflict originated from the merging of the northern and southern regions of Sudan by the British colonial government, and religious differences and conflict over resources resulted in the outbreak of civil war from 1955 to 1972, and again from 1983 to 2005. During the second civil war, around tens of thousands of boys and girls between the ages of 7 and 17 were forced from their homes.