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Current Series: Voices of Resilience: Unforgettable Days in South Sudan
Step into the shoes of our incredible young women Scholars in South Sudan as they share their personal stories of an unforgettable day. From unfathomable heartbreak to profound joy, these authentic accounts offer a window into their lives and unwavering resilience. Join us on this powerful journey through their unforgettable days.
Note: These accounts are written in response to the essay prompt, “A day in your life you will never forget”.
Author’s Privacy: These stories were originally handwritten by the Scholars, and their names, the names of family members and places have been removed to safeguard the sensitivity of their accounts. The narratives have been transcribed and slightly revised by our staff for enhanced readability and comprehension.
That’s ImPRESSive!
I am the one who allows women to carry their heads high, wearing their freshly-pressed best dress to church on Sunday.
What’s a madfish?
I left South Sudan in the back of a pickup truck, one braid among hundreds of others, headed for the camps across the border, where a quarter-million refugees were hungry for a taste of home.
What Lies Beneath?
We are a collective. We burrow, unseen, in huge colonies as deep as 18 feet below the surface. Each colony houses up to one million of us.
A Sweeping View
I do not merely rid the ground of litter. I clear it, smooth and open, so that nothing can hide there. Snakes and scorpions and poisonous spiders and camel spiders (eek!) prefer underbrush and clutter.
“I Carry the Stuff of Life”: Jerry Can
Almost always, it is women’s work to fill me, hoist me onto their heads and walk the long miles back to their village.
What Do You See When You Look At Me?
Every day he scooped up the ash leftover from a dung fire and rubbed it on my horns and spread it all over my hide to keep away the biting insects.
From Bullets to Bangles
We are no longer instruments of brutality. We are things of beauty! Who could have imagined such a transformation?
“I Would Prefer An Empty Life”
My existence is itself a contradiction. Built by men who waged war for a living. Built to shield children from death by that same war.
“Be Your Own Kind of Beautiful.”
It begins with an incision from a thorn or knife. Then the raw cut is rubbed with ash or plant juices to further irritate the skin. The healed skin forms me, a raised scar.
Packing Cool Metal Heat
No wonder I am the most popular weapon in the whole world: 70 million of us are now being used in over 90 countries. Impressive, right?
“I am the Triangular Window in a Mud Hut”
She made me perfect for welcoming slivers of bright sunshine while keeping out the dangers that lurk. Have you not seen?