unshackling

When I landed in Kuajok, Warrap State, South Sudan, in March 2015, I had no idea what awaited me. The project I was stepping into, funded by the World Bank, was meant to improve local governance and service delivery. However, instead of having a project ready to launch, I faced many problems. It was months behind schedule, underperforming, and the team I was inheriting seemed just as lost as the project itself.   As a young manager with little field experience in a place like South Sudan, the pressure was intense. To make matters worse, I had no laptop, proper induction, and little information on the work so far. The first quarterly report was fast approaching, and there was nothing to report. The task seemed insurmountable, and I felt the weight of everyone's expectations resting on my shoulders. But panic wasn't an option. I knew I had to find a way to turn things around.   I drew on lessons from my previous job with the Norwegian Refugee Council, where I worked unde...

People always say humanitarian work is full of sacrifices. But let me tell you, you don't get what that means until you're out in the field, deep in a place like South Sudan. I spent over five years working there with World Vision, CARE International, and IOM, and trust me, it's a place where challenges are as constant as the dust in the air. I've seen everything from navigating political tensions with the government to figuring out how to motivate a team under extreme stress. But none of the challenges were as disturbing as the ones I encountered with snakes.   Now, South Sudan is infamous for being a snake country. Every time you step outside, you must keep your eyes on the ground—especially in Upper Nile, Warrap, Jonglei, and Pibor Administrative areas where I worked. Snakes were everywhere. In the bushes, the compounds, and sometimes even inside your room. I'm not talking about some harmless little garden snakes but the big, venomous ones. Imagine walking ba...