News and vignettes
Whilst voting may have quietened down in Juba, humanitarian agencies were still busy trying to help those returning from the north, as their state is on the cusp of independence.
The World Food Programme distributed tons of aid to those whose final destination was the future capital. And the recipients lugged the sacks of sorghum and lentils under the unforgiving midday Sudanese sun.
As the week of voting in South Sudan’s independence referendum drags through to the fifth day, Juba seems to become increasingly ambivalent to the whole affair. The ninth of January was their day, when voting began amid emphatic celebrations.
Whilst a week is needed for voting in many of the rural areas, whose population makes up much of the state, the voting centres of Juba emptied out, with only a trickle of people voting every day.
Scenes from the streets of Juba, capital of what will soon be the world’s 193rd state.
“Every vote counts,” announce billboards around Juba, “if you have registered, make sure you go to vote”. There is no doubt in Southern Sudan that of those that vote, many more than the required 50% + 1 will opt for secession. There was some concern surrounding a clause in the peace agreement stipulating that over 60% of those registered must turn-out, but by mid-week, the ruling party had announced that the turn-out had already been reached.
For members of “My Referendum for Freedom”, an organisation originally started by a member of the south Sudan diaspora in Australia, getting people to vote meant much more than just a clause in an agreement: this was their chance to determine their future.
During the week of voting, these volunteers climbed into the back of pick-up trucks, armed with a microphone and loudspeakers, exclaiming to people that if they are registered, they should exercise their right to vote, and voice their opinion. They organised buses to transport people from remote communities to polling stations, believing that a truly democratic vote should not be influenced by people’s means to pay for long journeys.
“I got here at two o’clock in the morning” said one man, clutching his voter registration card at dawn outside the University of Juba. He had been to vote the previous day, but the queues were too long, full of southern Sudanese voters eager to imprint their finger next to a symbol representing secession. When the doors opened on this second day of voting, lines of people waited to make their mark.
The scene at the end of the day, however, was somewhat different. In Southern Sudan’s capital, the staff at the voting centres sat under the shade of mango trees, attending to a trickle of voters. It seemed as if Juba had voted in the first day and a half.
