On Friday, the Dutch minister for development cooperation, Agnes van Ardenne, visited Rumbek, one of the first foreign officials to visit the region since the peace accord was signed. Van Ardenne promised more than $150 million for development in the south but said the money would be withheld until the conflict in Darfur was resolved.
Southern Sudan suffered severely during the two decades of warfare. Life expectancy in the region is one of the lowest in the world, at 42 years. Most people live without running water and electricity. Jobs are scarce. Rickety bicycles are the main form of transportation.
John Garang, top left, leader of the Sudan People's Liberation Army, steps behind a cow that was slaughtered as a peace offering at the Rumbek airport. At left, Sudanese celebrate his arrival and the end of 21 years of war.
(Karel Prinsloo -- AP)
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_____Crisis in Sudan_____
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Q&A: Darfur A brief explanation of the issues and current humanitarian situation in Western Sudan.
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Photos: Continuing Crisis
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Photos: Sudan's Rebels
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Annan Urges Action on Darfur at U.N. Commemoration of Holocaust (The Washington Post, Jan 25, 2005)
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U.S., Europe Debate Venue for Darfur Trials (The Washington Post, Jan 21, 2005)
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Sudan, Southern Rebels Sign Accord to End Decades of War (The Washington Post, Jan 10, 2005)
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Powell Sidesteps Question About Sudan Genocide (The Washington Post, Jan 9, 2005)
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Sudanese Leaders, Southern Rebels Finish Peace Deal (The Washington Post, Jan 1, 2005)
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In Rumbek, a dusty town without roads, high expectations are a part of every conversation. During Garang's speech, one soldier broke into spontaneous song, singing: "For the last 20 years we starved. Now people who have gone to hide are back and looking for jobs."
At the airport Saturday, Yusuf Makuac, 18, was one of hundreds in a crowd watching as Garang stepped over a slaughtered longhorn, a traditional peace offering in his Dinka tribe. Makuac, who said his father was killed in 2000 while fighting for the SPLA, said the rebels were "very happy, but we have a few requests."
"We would like to ask for schooling. . . . We could even use a hospital and some training centers for skills. Maybe we could be like America one day," he said.
Later, at the rally in Freedom Square, Gabriel Makur, 22, sat under a tree and watched the festivities somberly. He held a small, handwritten cardboard sign that read, "Peace for the South. Peace for Darfur."
Twenty years ago, some of his Dinka relatives fled the violence in southern Sudan and relocated to camps in Darfur. Now they are stuck in Darfur's war, prevented by the instability from returning to their homes.
"We keep praying," Makur said, perspiring in the thick heat. "I don't want my relatives to be forgotten. We are Darfur, and Darfur is us."
