Scattered from Kakuma to Kansas, the South Sudanese diaspora forms one of the world’s most far-flung diaspora communities, and one of the most crucial to their homeland’s survival. Years of civil war and displacement drove millions of South Sudan’s people abroad, creating a diverse global diaspora that is, in many ways, more educated and connected than the population back home. By 2023, South Sudan was the origin of Africa’s largest refugee and diaspora population, with over 2.3 million South Sudanese, roughly a fifth of the nation, living as refugees across East Africa and beyond. From the suburbs of Sydney to the cities of North America and Europe, this “nation beyond borders” has shouldered responsibilities that belie its exile status.
Decades of conflict, from the struggle with Sudan to repeated civil wars after independence, forced millions of South Sudanese into exile across continents. Many found refuge and resettlement in Uganda, Kenya, Ethiopia and Sudan, while others built new lives in the United States, Canada, Australia, Europe and beyond. This dispersion has given rise to a vast and varied diaspora population. Crucially, many of those who escaped the chaos often gained access to education and stability overseas. As a result, today’s South Sudanese diaspora includes highly educated professionals, students and entrepreneurs, forming one of the most educated African immigrant communities in countries like Australia and the US. They are doctors and engineers in Calgary and Melbourne, entrepreneurs in Nairobi, and university graduates in London, a far cry from the war-ravaged villages many once called home.
Yet this global scattering is rooted in tragedy. Virtually every South Sudanese family has a tale of flight, whether from the civil wars of the 1970s–2000s or the internecine conflict that has erupted since independence. The pain of displacement and cultural homelessness is woven into the diaspora’s identity. Despite starting anew abroad, they remain bound by kinship and memory to a homeland still in turmoil. This dual existence, between the peace of Toronto or Adelaide and the trauma of Juba, defines the South Sudanese exile experience. It fuels a fierce determination among diaspora members to use their opportunities abroad to aid those left behind.
The nation’s economic lifeline
One of the most immediate and impactful ways the diaspora supports South Sudan is through remittances and community aid. Simply put, without the money sent home by South Sudanese abroad, many families back home would not survive. In 2021, remittances to South Sudan totalled around $ 1.2 billion – nearly 24% of the country’s GDP. That astonishing figure reflects how exiles have become their nation’s economic lifeline. Month after month, diaspora breadwinners in Minnesota or Manchester work long hours, often at multiple jobs, so they can wire cash for a parent’s medicine, a nephew’s school fees or a cousin’s food bill. These funds prop up household economies and make up for government failures in basic services.
With South Sudan’s education and health systems in shambles, it is often diaspora dollars that pay children’s school fees, buy hospital generators or dig wells when the state does not. Diaspora associations have sprung up to organise this aid. For example, in Australia alone, there are over 160 South Sudanese community associations, many ethnically based, raising funds for local projects back home. With remarkable dedication, these groups have built clinics and classrooms in villages whose budget has been stolen by government officials. In effect, the diaspora has become an alternative welfare system for South Sudan, stepping in where the government fails. Every dollar wired for school supplies or every ambulance donated to a hometown is a testament to diaspora solidarity compensating for a collapsed state. This sense of duty runs deep, but it comes at a cost: many abroad sacrifice their own comfort, working overtime or skimping on expenses, to sustain relatives in need.
Defying the “gunclass”
Money is not the only export the South Sudanese diaspora delivers. Over the years, South Sudanese abroad have also emerged as political actors in their homeland’s struggles. During the long war for independence, exiled communities in the U.S. and East Africa were key supporters of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A), lobbying Western lawmakers, raising relief funds, and keeping the dream of freedom alive in international forums. That political engagement only intensified after South Sudan’s 2011 independence curdled into new internal conflicts. As Salva Kiir’s regime turned autocratic and corrupt to the core, and factional violence erupted, diaspora chapters of opposition movements mobilised vigorously.
From Nebraska to Nairobi, diaspora networks bankrolled political and military resistance against the regime in Juba. Expatriate chapters of rebel groups, such as the SPLM-in-Opposition or National Salvation Front, collected contributions to support fighters on the ground, often via informal channels. Some of these funds paid for logistical needs: satellite phones, transport, even arms and ammunition. Indeed, it is no secret that transnational networks of South Sudanese have been an important source of finance for armed groups in the country. South Sudan’s warlords understood the diaspora’s value; they courted overseas supporters and touted themselves as defenders of the people to loosen diaspora purse strings.
Diaspora activism has also meant information warfare and advocacy on behalf of the voiceless at home. In Western capitals, South Sudanese expatriates organised protests, petition drives and media campaigns to raise awareness about atrocities and repression in their country. They have leveraged their education and freedom of speech abroad to become de facto ambassadors of South Sudan’s suffering. Whether lobbying the U.S. Congress for sanctions or rallying outside the U.N. in New York, this community has tried to put international pressure on Juba’s leaders. Diaspora-led NGOs and online forums produce constant commentary on South Sudan’s crisis, keeping it in the global conversation. For many in exile, such activism is a way to fight for change when they cannot be on the frontlines physically.
In some remarkable cases, diaspora members have even returned to South Sudan to take up arms or serve in political roles. The call of homeland can be strong enough that a London accountant or a Minnesota truck driver drops everything and flies to the bush to join a self-defence militia protecting their clan. Others go back as organisers during ceasefires, hoping to help build peace or contest elections. This direct involvement carries huge risks – and speaks to the depth of diaspora commitment to their people’s fate.
The human toll!
Yet alongside these heroic efforts, the South Sudanese diaspora is carrying an immense psychological and social burden. Years of traumatic news, villages torched, relatives massacred, peace deals betrayed, etc, have taken a heavy toll on exiles watching tragedy unfold from afar. Depression, survivor’s guilt, and chronic anxiety are common in the community. Every phone call from Juba carries the risk of new heartbreak, every morning scan of Facebook might reveal another cousin killed or childhood friend displaced. The prolonged conflict, with no clear end in sight, has led to profound despair and exhaustion among many in the diaspora. As one community member described, it feels like “living two highly divergent realities at once” – relative safety abroad, and never-ending grief for what’s happening back home.
This emotional strain is compounded by a sense of betrayal. Many diaspora activists threw their weight behind various South Sudanese leaders or rebel causes over the years, only to see those very figures fall into corruption or infighting. Exiles who donated money and trust to liberation heroes feel bitterly let down by political and military leaders who squandered the country’s promise. The result is a growing cynicism: a belief that no one on the ground is worthy of support. “Why keep sacrificing,” some exiles ask, “when our leaders betray us and our homeland remains broken?”
Another dangerous byproduct of the continuing war is the fragmentation of the diaspora itself. Just as conflict has splintered South Sudan’s society along ethnic and regional lines, those divisions have been mirrored among communities abroad and even reinforced by them. South Sudanese abroad often remain tightly grouped by tribe or region, maintaining the fault-lines of home in foreign lands. The Nuer or Equatorian diaspora group in one city might scarcely interact with the Dinka or other ethnic groups’ association, each side distrustful due to the war’s animosities. Factions aligned with different political leaders trade barbs online, dragging diaspora youth into partisan echo chambers. Social media, while a tool for unity at times, has also become a battleground of ethnic hate speech among South Sudanese abroad. In Facebook groups and WhatsApp chats, and Clubhouse chatrooms, rhetoric formed abroad is inciting ethnic hatred and propagating division back in South Sudan. Baseless rumours and inflammatory propaganda spread faster across diaspora networks than reliable facts. The lack of verifiable information in a conflict setting means falsehoods flourish, further polarising communities.
Some disillusioned exiles have coped by retreating into extreme or insular politics. Frustrated with both the Juba regime and mainstream opposition groups, they set up their own one-man movements or online “political parties” in the diaspora. These outfits are often little more than Facebook pages or YouTube channels blasting out ideological manifestos. With no on-the-ground presence and scant resources, such diaspora micro-factions sometimes lapse into grandiosity or regional radicalism, proposing unrealistic schemes or descend into spewing ethnic vitriol at perceived enemies. In other cases, weary diaspora members simply disengage and disconnect entirely, choosing to shut off the news from home for the sake of their sanity. The community’s cohesion is fraying: fragmentation abroad reinforces fragmentation at home, and vice versa, creating a vicious cycle that makes concerted collective action increasingly difficult.
What can the South Sudanese diaspora learn from others?
Despite these challenges, the South Sudanese diaspora is not alone in its trials, nor in its potential to drive change. History offers examples of diaspora communities that successfully mobilised to influence their homelands, for better or for worse. Examining these cases can provide both inspiration and cautionary lessons for South Sudan’s exiles.
From the triumphant solidarity of East Timor’s diaspora to the Tamil diaspora’s financially potent but ultimately war-prolonging support of the Tigers, to the decisive funding of Eritrea’s independence and the global anti-apartheid movement, history demonstrates that diasporas are powerful agents of political change. These cases reveal a dual lesson: a diaspora’s capacity to alter a homeland’s destiny is immense, but its ultimate impact, whether for liberation or protracted conflict, hinges on its strategic unity and the methods it chooses to employ.
For South Sudan’s diaspora, the takeaway is twofold. First, unity of purpose is paramount; every successful diaspora movement has overcome internal rifts to present a common front. Second, methods matter: channelling diaspora energy into constructive political engagement and institution-building is far more effective than fomenting hate or endlessly funding war. Diaspora groups that worked together across tribes and regions, lobbied democracies and promoted peace, achieved more lasting impact than those that only bought bullets.
South Sudan today stands at a precipice of catastrophic failure. Its people face persistent violence, hunger and state collapse. In such a dire landscape, the diaspora’s role is more critical than ever, not only as a lifeline but as potential leaders and peacemakers. This community of exiles is armed with education, resources, global networks and the freedom to speak and organise, assets that those under Juba’s repression often lack. With many of South Sudan’s ruling clique discredited, the diaspora collectively might be the country’s best remaining asset to spark a turnaround.
But fulfilling that promise requires a hard look in the mirror. The diaspora must overcome the very fragmentation that has mirrored the homeland’s divisions. It is time to transcend ethnic and regional silos and remember the common cause that unites Nuer, Dinka, Equatorian and others: the yearning for a peaceful, dignified South Sudan that belongs to and serves all its people. In practical terms, that could mean forming broader diaspora coalitions that cut across tribe, pooling funds not just for local clan projects but for national peace initiatives and development efforts. It could mean social media influencers tempering their tone, rejecting hate speech, and using their platforms to foster reconciliation and factual awareness instead. It certainly means holding ourselves to a higher standard of discourse and solidarity than the failed politicians back home.
After all, the diaspora owes it to our people to lead where the leaders in Juba have failed. That leadership can take many forms, from investing in community-run schools and clinics, to crafting expert policy proposals for governance reforms, to acting as mediators between warring factions. It means leveraging our positions in freer societies to coordinate extraordinary political action on behalf of South Sudan, whether that is pushing for robust international isolation of the illegitimate Juba regime or organising a global conference of South Sudanese stakeholders to chart a new path. Rather than a thousand diaspora splinters pulling in different directions, imagine the force of a unified diaspora lobby advocating for peace and accountability in South Sudan. Imagine a global South Sudanese caucus that engages constructively with host governments and international bodies to keep the crisis at the top of the agenda. We have seen how powerful diaspora voices can be; now they must sing in unison.
This is no naive call for a magic bullet. South Sudan’s problems are staggering, and diaspora activism alone cannot resolve them. The wounds of war, loss and betrayal are deep, and those who carry them deserve to be heard, not lectured. Yet a diaspora that, without forgetting this pain, rises above old grievances and speaks as one people, valuing its shared identity as South Sudanese first, could help unlock solutions that eluded a fragmented nation. At minimum, it can offer ordinary citizens at home a vision of unity in a time of division, and a home rather than despair in the collective embrace of one people.
The South Sudanese diaspora has already proven its immeasurable dedication, keeping an entire country afloat through war and exodus. That lifeline is fraying under strain, but it need not snap. With renewed purpose and cohesion, this scattered nation can transform its burden into strength. The story of South Sudan is still being written, and its authors include the teachers in Kampala, the nurses in Calgary, the students in Nairobi, the doctor in Gaborone, and the engineers in Adelaide who refuse to give up on the dream of a better homeland. Their next chapter must be one of hope through unity. In the hands of its far-flung sons and daughters, South Sudan can yet find the path out of the wilderness and towards the future its people deserve. The time for diaspora leadership is now.
The writer, Dr. Remember Miamingi, is a South Sudanese expert in governance and human rights, as well as a political commentator. He can be contacted via email at remember.miamingi@gmail.com
The views expressed in ‘opinion’ articles published by Radio Tamazuj are solely those of the writer. The veracity of any claims made is the responsibility of the author, not Radio Tamazuj.