South Sudan is rich in oil and poor in everything else. Still waiting for the country to fulfill its promise of independence, its people find creative ways to cope.
Women sell their goods at an open market in Nzara, South Sudan on 15 February 2025. (AP Photo/Brian Inganga)
This article was produced out of News Decoder’s school partnership program. The author is a student at African Leadership Academy in South Africa, a News Decoder partner institution. Learn more about how News Decoder can work with your school.
I live just a 10-minute walk from Malual Chat Barrack, one of the largest military barracks in South Sudan, a country in East Africa. On paper, it should be full of soldiers protecting civilians and maintaining security. In reality, it is almost empty.
Many soldiers have abandoned their posts to survive through side hustles. Some burn charcoal in the bush, and others, including women, brew local alcohol to feed their families. Schools for their children are inadequate, forcing many families to send children to distant or overcrowded public schools.
In some cases, soldiers confront civilians at gunpoint to demand money or goods. Others sell their weapons, which then enter local communities, fueling inter-communal violence.
Walking past the barracks, one notices not the presence of military order, but the subtle chaos of survival. Women carry buckets of water to make local brew, children follow behind and the faint smoke from charcoal fires curls into the sky.
Elders gather near open-air kiosks, exchanging small amounts of cash for basic goods. Families navigate insecurity daily, improvising to meet basic needs. Many households rely on small-scale trade, selling firewood, charcoal or handmade goods to survive, creating a fragile economy at the edge of collapse.
Oil money slips away.
South Sudan is rich in natural resources yet devastatingly poor in the lives of its people. Civil servants, teachers, doctors and soldiers continue to face hardship despite the country being one of the largest oil producers in Sub-Saharan Africa.
Holding 3.5 billion barrels of proven oil reserves, with oil historically accounting for more than 90% of government revenue, the nation’s wealth has not translated into widespread prosperity. Mismanagement keeps people trapped in hardship while resources flow to a small elite.
Government-run schools are collapsing, and in 2023 and 2024, civil servants went months without salaries. Many well-trained teachers left public schools for private institutions, which remain expensive and largely inaccessible. One university student who also teaches at a government secondary school went seven months without pay, reflecting a broader pattern of frustration and systemic neglect.
According to Radio Tamajuz, the government eventually released small salary payments, including one-month arrears after nearly a year of nonpayment.
A 2024 study on the National Ministries In Juba found that salary delays significantly reduce employee motivation, productivity, job satisfaction and commitment. Many workers take informal jobs to survive, showing how delayed pay directly affects public service performance and community stability.
A system of inequities
The same regime has been in power since independence in 2011, yet progress remains limited. Tribal conflicts, such as those between the Dinka and Murle communities, persist, often exacerbated by unpaid soldiers selling weapons.
The region where we are from experiences significant armed conflict and cattle raiding between different tribes and communities. So in 2017, for his own safety and protection, my brother found it necessary to acquire a firearm. A soldier sold him a PKM machine gun in exchange for seven cows.
Meanwhile, government ministers reportedly live comfortably abroad, sending their children to expensive schools while ordinary families struggle for food, education and safety. Citizens’ lived experiences are shaped by a system that enriches a few while leaving the majority in hardship.
My grandfather was a “liberator,” a fighter in the armed struggle that led to South Sudan’s independence. He first joined the movement in 1955 and later rejoined in 1983 during the Second Sudanese Civil War, a 21-year conflict fought by the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement against the Sudanese government.
He showed us the injuries he sustained in battle and said he fought so that his children and grandchildren could attend school freely, choose their religion and walk the streets safely.
After his death during the 2013 civil war, his children were largely forgotten, and some of his property was looted by individuals connected to the government he once served.
Sacrifices, struggles and student soldiers
Stories like these, along with classmates who dropped out to support siblings after losing parents, reflect the experiences of countless families whose sacrifices remain unacknowledged.
Student-soldiers reveal another dimension of South Sudan’s struggles. A university student I spoke to who also serves in the army described colleagues deployed in Northern Jonglei, Nasir and other remote areas, forced to put education on hold.
Many struggle to balance military duties with coursework. He appealed to the Ministry of Higher Education for flexible registration policies and exemption from penalties, highlighting the intersection of service, education and national responsibility.
Without such support, many risk dropping out, which can perpetuate cycles of poverty and limit opportunities for social mobility. Healthcare, too, reflects the consequences of systemic neglect. Hospitals often lack essential medicines, trained staff and basic infrastructure, leaving ordinary citizens without reliable care.
Children, particularly in rural areas, face malnutrition and preventable illnesses, while families rely on informal solutions, such as traditional medicine or small community clinics, to meet basic health needs. Schools and hospitals, the pillars of development, are undermined by the same financial and administrative failures that affect civil servants’ wages.
Accountability is needed.
South Sudan’s oil wealth could be a foundation for development, yet corruption and poor governance prevent resources from reaching those in need. Revenue mismanagement, opaque budgets and political favoritism exacerbate inequality.
Families who work hard to survive often see their efforts undercut by a system that prioritizes elite comfort over public welfare. Meanwhile, communities find creative ways to cope. Women form cooperatives to sell goods, youth take informal jobs and elders mediate conflicts, but these solutions cannot replace systemic reform.
South Sudan stands at a crossroads. Without accountability, genuine reform and sustained investment in its people, the cycle of suffering will continue. Timely salaries, well-funded schools and support for student-soldiers are essential.
Transparent budget management and stronger anti-corruption measures could ensure that the country’s oil wealth benefits ordinary citizens rather than a small elite.
Only through fair governance, education reform and protection of public servants’ rights can South Sudan begin to fulfill the promise of independence.
Questions to Consider:
1. How can the next generation of leaders ensure South Sudan’s wealth benefits all citizens?
2. What strategies could reduce corruption and improve public service delivery?
3. In what ways do you think any government should provide for its people?
Chol Ayong Chau Ajak is a high school student from South Sudan who fled to Uganda during the 2013 civil war and returned in 2017. Chol is passionate about youth leadership, peacebuilding and storytelling that amplifies voices from conflict-affected communities.