Why South Sudan's antics can only be described as Mama Juba hating her neighbour’s children

It’s amazing how some events never leave one’s memory. When we were kids, the practice was that we would pop into each other’s homes for meals, much as our parents resented it.

Back then, we never understood something called ‘budgets’ or that it was not particularly good manners for a bunch of dusty ravenous kids popping in, uninvited, into someone’s house for lunch.

village federation.

But the economics made sense before we could have small bites of this and that, in this home and that, and end up full. Plus it helped us bond into a village federation.

So my cousin discovers himself playing with the neighbour’s kid at lunch hour and the call is made that food has been served. When they troop in, his pal’s mum says, “This is what we have – will you eat?”

My cousin examines the food on offer. Ugali and the darkest, most uninviting mess of poorly cooked mboga he had ever seen. Predictably, he said, “No thanks.”

But moments later, his friend’s mum dug into a pot and unleashed a mouthwatering chunk of meat, broke it into pieces with her hands and served her brood (those days, kids were given a single piece of meat each). My cousin was staggered.

His tummy began rumbling. But seeing as he had said he wasn’t going to eat, it would have been unseemly to change his mind. This mum wasn’t as evil as you think. At least she made an offer.

Real mean mums would specifically call out their own children into the house for a meal and shut the door while his mates played right outside.

South Sudan

It was particularly hurting when the meal in question was chapatti and her son would pop out of the house satiated, but with this pained, shamed look on his face.

This is what is happening in South Sudan. Mother Juba fears that if she allows all the dusty and ravenous kids in the neighbourhood pop in for lunch, her kids will starve.

She is like that short-sighted mother who tells kids, “Nisimpate kwa jirani.”