South Sudan is facing an unprecedented moment of reckoning. The government, already drowning in debt and presiding over a collapsing economy, now finds itself the subject of escalating legal battles in international courts. The most alarming of these is the recent lawsuit filed in London by BB Energy (GULF) DMCC, a long-standing and strategic energy partner, against the Government of the Republic of South Sudan through the Ministry of Petroleum. This case—CL-2025-000296—is not just about a breached contract. It is a referendum on whether South Sudan remains a credible state actor in the international system.
BB Energy’s legal action follows the government’s default on oil deliveries under a prepayment deal. This is not merely a contractual failure; it is a betrayal of trust with one of the few companies that stood by South Sudan during war, instability, and economic collapse. Despite ongoing efforts to find an amicable resolution, the company has now been forced to defend its rights in court—a development that signals the collapse of diplomatic and commercial goodwill.
This is not an isolated warning. In May, Vitol Bahrain EC filed a similar case in the same jurisdiction, and Afreximbank, one of Africa’s key development finance institutions, also sued South Sudan and its central bank over a $657 million defaulted oil-backed loan (CL-2024-000246). These are not hostile actors. They are institutions and companies that extended a hand when no one else would. The repeated betrayal of these partners not only isolates South Sudan financially—it invites reputational destruction from which the country may never recover.
But what the public does not see—and what most international coverage ignores—is the deeper collapse of state systems behind these cases. The oil sector is only the surface. The real crisis lies in the disappearance of institutional coordination, the paralysis of governance, and the silent death of the state’s operating capacity. Ministries no longer act in concert. Policy is not implemented. Decisions are no longer strategic—they are improvised and impulsive. The country is being governed through reaction, not vision. Even the President himself, surrounded by layers of fragmented power centers and conflicting informal networks, is increasingly insulated from the full scope of the breakdown.
This is the crisis no one dares to name. Officials operate in silos. Economic figures are fabricated or hidden. Reports are filtered. Public budgets are irrelevant. The Bank of South Sudan and the Ministry of Finance have diverging mandates. The petroleum sector functions with multiple revenue accounts, foreign obligations, and contract layers that even central institutions cannot trace. This is not simply a case of corruption—it is a case of structural entropy. A state where even the leadership is blindfolded by its own machinery.
Oil production, which once stood at 350,000 barrels per day, has collapsed to a fragile 138,000 bpd. Nearly all of it is locked into repayments, diverted, or mismanaged. More than $550 million is owed to oil traders alone. At least $3.7 billion in public debt now hangs over the nation like a curse, much of it hidden in opaque, unaccounted-for prepayment deals. Our reserves are exhausted. Our credibility is gone. The government’s word is no longer bond.
And while officials speak of reforms, the real decision-makers remain unelected and unaccountable: informal advisors, parallel offices, security operatives managing financial flows, and foreign brokers extracting fees through backdoor deals. These are not exaggerations—they are known facts, whispered within institutions and spoken openly by those who have witnessed the inner circle’s decay. All of it remains hidden behind the language of patriotic unity and sovereign control.
But the real danger is not legal—it is existential. No country can survive under siege from within. The failure to fully implement the peace agreement and the refusal to pursue inclusive national reconciliation are now directly fueling the state’s collapse. What began as a political compromise has been reduced to a ceremonial façade. Institutions remain ethnicized, fragmented, and manipulated. The opposition is marginalized. The military is divided. The national project is bleeding. South Sudan is not in a political transition—it is in a permanent emergency.
This is why the BB Energy case matters. Not because of its size, but because of what it symbolizes. It is the first public confirmation that South Sudan is being judged not by rebels or enemies, but by international law and commercial institutions. It is evidence that our internal mismanagement has reached the global courtroom. If this path continues, the outcome is not difficult to foresee: more lawsuits, more asset seizures, more capital flight, and deeper donor disengagement. Our oil will be auctioned by foreign courts. Our sovereignty will be mocked in commercial litigation. Our future will be bartered for debts we cannot account for. The currency will continue to deteriorate, the people will continue to suffer, and the very foundation of the state will eventually disintegrate under the weight of its own lies.
Yet this disaster is not inevitable. It can still be reversed—if the leadership is willing to face the truth. The President must personally intervene to resolve the BB Energy case and all related disputes—not tomorrow, not next month, but now. Legal teams, financial officials, and diplomatic channels must be activated to repair what remains of our integrity. Public commitments must be made. The government must stop defaulting, stop concealing, and stop deceiving. The oil sector must be audited. The Petroleum Revenue Management Act must be enforced. A new technocratic leadership must replace those who have failed.
But even this is not enough. Without political reform, economic repair is impossible. Without peace, there will be no investment. Without reconciliation, there will be no legitimacy. The peace agreement must be implemented in full—not selectively, not conditionally, but urgently. Inclusive national reconciliation must begin, with all communities, political forces, and regions represented. We must end the era of exclusion and begin rebuilding the nation—not in words, but in structures, policies, and practice.
What is at stake is not a single oil contract. It is the future of the republic. BB Energy’s lawsuit is a mirror. Vitol’s lawsuit is a warning. Afreximbank’s ruling is a judgment. The world is not against us—we have simply exhausted its patience. South Sudan must decide: Will we continue down this road of deception and collapse, or will we rise, reconcile, and reform?
There is no more room for delay. The future of the state depends on what we do next.
The writer, Samuel Peter Oyay, is a South Sudanese political activist, strategist, and commentator with over two decades of experience in governance and management. He can be reached via samualjago@yahoo.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.