Both a mother and a father: South Sudan teen raising younger siblings

A young boy in purple shorts and a washed out t-shirt sits under a tree in South Sudan’s Upper Nile State, watching bats as they swoop in and out of his mud hut.

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The then 11-year-old doesn’t yet know that he’s spending his last evening in peace. The sun has already set when he heads to bed, and the night is covering his village in a dark shadow. John doesn’t have electricity, but he loves his country’s clear sky full of stars, and that’s his last thought before falling asleep that night. 

"...a neighbor told me that my parents had been brutally murdered. My life fell apart when I heard these news.” 

It was a different reality to wake up to and one that would alter his life forever: The air filled with gunshots and screams; bright flashlights piercing through the pitch black dark of the night, and rebels everywhere. When John started running, some huts had already been set on fire and black smoke filled his lungs. Although he didn’t know where he was going, he had never sprinted that fast. There was no time to even grab a jacket or some food and in the chaos, John wasn’t able to see his parents and siblings.

“I ran several miles until I arrived at the river and I spent the rest of the night there alone. In the morning I found my siblings, but a neighbor told me that my parents had been brutally murdered. My life fell apart when I heard these news.” 

John is 14 years old today and lives in a refugee community in Northern Uganda. Like thousands of others, he made the long journey across his country by foot with his three siblings, only occasionally catching a ride in a truck. “It has benn treacherous,” he says. “I didn’t have shoes and we barely had any food or water. I had suddenly become responsible to bring my three younger siblings to safely.” 

"Today, I am raising my two brothers and sister. I am their mother and their father and take care of them every day. Life is very hard.”

Three years after his village had been attacked, South Sudan still hasn’t reached enough peace and stability, and fighting continues to break out across the country. It’s an almost forgotten war that has taken the lives of over 10,000 people since 2013, has displaced over 1.6 million and made more than 720,000 flee to neighboring countries. John is one of those who left. “I loved my home village and my parents. Life was good. Today, I am raising my two brothers and sister. I am their mother and their father and take care of them every day. Life is very hard.” 

Up to 800 South Sudanese refugees still arrive daily in Uganda during a busy week. John is having a slightly easier life here than he would have in his home country, where more than 4.8 million people live on the brink of starvation and the government’s reconciliation efforts are moving along slowly. 

John and his siblings now live in a square-shaped hut and have kind neighbors who help them with their daily chores. Life is Northern Uganda is safer and all four children – including John – have the chance to attend school here. The trauma of the rebel attack sits deep, however. “I remember the shooting and the fire. One of the bullets hit my mother, another one hit my father. I think of my dad a lot, because I am now in his position. I’m 14, but I’m the head of the household.” 

John and thousands of other refugees in the settlement continue to depend on help. Living in Ugandan host communities, they receive food rations, clean water, as well as psychological support. John’s siblings attend a child-friendly space every afternoon, where they forget about their pasts by learning native dances and chasing each other up and down the slides. 

“One day, I hope there will be peace,”

Watching the children play, their resilience stands out and continues to trump their daily struggles. The South Sudanese are a strong nation that will rise up and build up their country if they receive the necessary help and a long-term peace deal can be secured. 

Thinking of his home village, there is one thing that John felt like he was able to bring: the star-filled sky. “It’s the same here as it is in my village and when I look up, I wonder what it might look like over there right now,” he says, while playing with his necklace. John almost looks like a grown-up now in his peach-coloured button down shirt. He seems older for his age, but he’s lived a long life already.

“One day, I hope there will be peace,” he says quietly as the sun sets and the last light of the day fades away.