If You Can’t Fix It, Step Aside
By Atong Kuol Malual, Concerned Student and Citizen
March 9, 2025
Call me a pessimist, a naysayer, or someone who wishes ill on this nation—I no longer care. The truth is undeniable: South Sudan is unraveling. Crisis after crisis, event after event, the evidence mounts with chilling clarity—things are not just bad; they are getting worse.
I am scared. I am heartbroken.
As a student, I feel the crushing weight of this broken system daily. If I—someone without a family to feed or a business to sustain—am this overwhelmed, imagine the burden on the mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters who rise each morning, defying an economic collapse, to hustle for survival. Picture those who scrape together every coin, desperate to put something—anything—on the table for their loved ones.
This isn’t living anymore. It’s surviving.
This year has been unbearable. Market prices have soared beyond reach. The economy is crumbling before our eyes. Families struggle to afford food, let alone school fees or the relentless taxes that pile up day and night.
What are these taxes even for? City councils collect funds for services that never materialize. When disasters strike—like the Konyokonya fire that left families with nothing—where is the aid? Where is the justice for those who’ve lost everything?
How much more can we endure?
Every morning, I wake up haunted by the same question: What will remain of South Sudan? I fear for the future, for what lies ahead, for the direction this country is stumbling toward.
The saddest part? Even as I pour out these frustrations, they’ll likely fall on deaf ears. Worse, I might be hushed—told to stay silent “for my own good.” But why? Isn’t speaking out our right? Did we ever truly have rights to begin with?
We don’t speak because we’re naive. We speak because we’re entitled to be heard.
Countless voices have cried out, time and again, yet nothing changes. To our leaders: What are you waiting for? A newborn to raise its voice in protest?
Some stay silent not for lack of courage, but from the bitter realization that words alone won’t shift the tide. No matter how loudly we plead, the outcome is the same—more heartbreak, more frustration, more chaos.
To those in power: We’re not demanding miracles. We don’t expect you to part the Red Sea. What we want is accountability. Tangible solutions. Stop wrapping empty promises in eloquent speeches—we’re not playthings; we’re human beings.
If this is too much for you—if you’ve given your all and it’s still not enough—then step aside. Let others take the reins.
South Sudan is brimming with capable men and women who love this nation and yearn to see it flourish. If your best efforts have failed, dissolve this government and pave the way for new leadership. Yes, they might falter too, but at least give this country a chance to heal from the wounds your shortcomings have inflicted.
Your best isn’t cutting it. The faint murmurs of discontent have swelled into screams—screams for food, for justice, for change.
It’s time for inclusion, and I don’t mean vague platitudes. Bring us into the fold. Give us a seat at the table where decisions are made, where solutions are forged.
If you can’t fix it, step aside. It’s that simple.
