In the shadows of Malakal, memories lay bare,
Where laughter once rang, now whispers of despair,
The sunlit days drowned in a tempest of fright,
A cradle of dreams turned to ashes by night.
Echoes of children, their joy lost in haste,
Once vibrant the streets, now a heart-wrenching waste,
With hope as the anchor, we weathered the tide,
But calamity struck, and our spirits divide.
The Nile flows still, though its waters turn grim,
A sob of the past in each wave’s solemn hymn,
Through ruins we wander, where life used to bloom,
Yet shadows consume the once fragrant perfume.
Oh Malakal! Fortress of love turned to dread,
Innocence battled, yet peace lays unfed,
Fear clings like a shroud, in the air thick with strife,
What shattered existence for a town full of life?
But in this catastrophe, a flicker remains,
In hearts that are heavy, resilience still gains,
For every dark night, a dawn will emerge,
And gathered in unity, we’ll rise and converge.
So, hold tight to the memories, let them ignite,
A flame of compassion that pierces the night,
For every lost child, for each elder’s cry,
We will sow seeds of hope—our spirits won’t die.
In shadows where once laughter danced,
The hearts of Malakal lie entranced,
By echoes of rockets, the cry of the night,
A child’s first breath amidst chaos and fright.
Whispers of history cast away in despair,
Nuer, Dinka, Chollo and Bari together once, now bare,
Brothers and sisters, once strong in the fight,
Turned against each other, blinded by plight.
“Why shed the blood of kin on this ground?”
Their voices, once united, now lost, never found.
The cries of the innocent, rising in pain,
A torrent of sorrow, a memory, a stain.
In Juba’s heart, festering grief,
The massacre of the Nuer in 2013 etched in every soul,
Yearning for solace, seeking reprieve,
Yet only find the gaping hole.
Blue helmets present, yet still we fell,
In dreams of justice, we clutched and prayed,
But promised saviors, they could not quell,
The fire of anguish that would not fade.
Brothers and sisters turned to foes,
In blood and betrayal, our history writ,
A tapestry woven with love’s final throes,
Now frayed and tattered, a bleak little bit.
Oh, land of our ancestors, why this divide?
Why unleash the darkness upon our land bright?
The dreams of hopes in IGAD, like whispers, subsided,
The League of Nations our hope but turned to grief,
Rachael, the little dreamer, born under fire,
In the cradle of war, where hope is a liar.
A mother’s embrace in the wilderness lost,
Innocent futures traded at such a high cost.
Oh, who shall tend to these wounds of the soul?
As prayers rise softly, seeking to console.
In Mudiriya’s shadow, the catholic church stands tall,
A beacon of hope in the midst of our fall.
Bishop Daniel Adwok, in silence, hears every plea,
For justice and mercy, for all who would see.
Asosa and Jalaba weeps softly, their walls have withdrawn,
The laughter of children now a distant song.
Bam and Malakiya, their dreams laid to rest,
Where joy once resided, now sorrow attest.
Oh, how my heart aches for Malakal’s plight,
Crippled by shadows that swallow the light.
The school once a haven, now ruins remain,
Echoes of learning entwined with our pain.
In halls where we gathered, the laughter now fades,
As silence enshrouds the forgotten and frayed.
The rivers of grief, they flow deep and wide,
For health and for hope, it’s the spirit we bide.
Yet amidst all the mourning, a glimmer breaks through,
In faith we stand stronger, united and true.
So let the church guide us, through darkness we roam,
In Mudiriya’s heart, together we’ll hope.
For every lost dream, a new one shall rise,
In the arms of compassion, our spirits will fly.
Amongst the ruins, amidst the decay,
Lives flicker softly, still longing for day.
Each corner of Mudiriya, shattered and torn,
Yet in each heart, a glimmer reborn.
Shall the fields bloom again with laughter and light?
Shall the children of Malakal emerge from the night?
Together we’ll rise to rebuild what we share,
As hope in our hearts whisper, “Together, we dare.”
Oh, God! Have mercy, let kindness abound,
Bring peace to this soil, let love be profound.
In the name of tomorrow, let us stand tall,
To heal every wound, to embrace one and all.
For in unity’s warmth, let our spirits ignite,
And Malakal’s children shall shine ever bright.
No longer divided, but stronger as one,
Together we’ll rise again with the warmth of the sun.
The author, Dr.Gak Deng Woul is a South Sudanese researcher and political activist based in Australia. He holds Masters of International Relations, Graduate certificate in Creative Writing from Deakin University and a PhD on Migration and Refugees’ Settlement Policies from Monash University. He can be reached on gakwoul@gmail.com