Photo   UNHCR/Andrew McConnell

Photo UNHCR/Andrew McConnell

Children in Charge.......fighting in Sudan has
separated families and orphaned children
Written by Mike Pflanz

War. Disease. Psychological trauma. Poor health care. There are many factors that can break apart families in South Sudan, yet the outcome is often the same: siblings left caring for each other because their parents died, or were separated from their children, or abandoned them.
The situation has grown worse since December 2013, as renewed fighting among supporters of rival politicians has morphed into ethnically driven violence, causing massive displacement inside South Sudan and across borders. UNHCR and its partners provide essentials for families who ran from their homes with nothing – including shelter, rain protection, and items like buckets to store drinking and washing water.
Photographer Andrew McConnell, and Mike Pflanz recently spoke with four teenagers who have fled their homes and are now in charge of their siblings. Their dreams and hopes are on hold while they take on responsibilities that should fall to adults.

Lina, 13, is the eldest of five siblings from Toor , a village in the country’s far north. Now living in Pariang, she must look after her three brothers – Thonchol, 11; Juach, six; and Dongwei, three – and her sister, Sunday, eight.
“I wake up when it is still dark and start to prepare breakfast by pounding sorghum. Then I wake up my brothers and sisters and we wash our faces and brush our teeth. Soon I have to walk to the water point about 25 minutes away with a 20-litre jerrican, which is very heavy, but none of my brothers and sisters is big enough to help me. My brother has a problem with his eyes and can’t see well and he cannot help. I do this on my own.
“In a normal day I will go to the water point maybe three times. If there is some water left in the morning from the night before, then I don’t have to go first thing. That is a nice morning. The next thing is I wash clothes. Then after some time I go to collect water again and begin preparing the sorghum for the evening meal.
“Two or three times a week I have to fetch firewood. It is far – you can’t imagine. If I go in the morning I will not return until evening. I use only my bare hands, I have no machete, so I try to pull the wood from the trees or find it fallen on the ground. It’s heavier even than the water and I have to stop a lot on the way back because it is so far. I go with other girls. We chatter about whether we will find wood easily, or whether there will be any men with guns along the way, or whether we need to fetch water when we get home.
If had three wishes, first I would request that we all to go to school. Second, that we get enough food. Third, that my brother’s eyes are fixed.
“Do I play? No, I do not have time. The smaller children play. My mother died for a lack of blood in her body as she was giving birth to my youngest brother three years ago, and there were no health facilities in our village. I don’t know where my father is. That means I am in charge, so I have no time for playing.
“We came here because of the crisis. People came fighting to our village, so we ran away. It was a very hard journey, especially with these young children. I always had to hold onto my brother or he would have been lost. As I told you, he does not see well.
“We are alone here, really. My friends were scattered, and we cannot go home. I have not attended school since my mother died, because since then I have been in charge of these children. If had three wishes, first I would request that we all go to school. Second, that we get enough food. Third, that my brother’s eyes are fixed. No, I don’t make a wish for my own needs, but if you give me one more, maybe I would ask for some new clothes. That would be nice. But bring some for all of the children, not just for me.”  Written by Mike Pflanz