Leading the Lost Boys: The Untold Journey

By PAULINO MAMIIR CHOL

As a member of the Lost Boys of South Sudan, author Paulino Mamiir Chol offers the gripping account of his transformation from a kidnapping survivor to a leader— Mr. Chol led over 700 boys across three African countries. 

 

Paulino Mamiir Chol was abducted from his family, in the Twic County of Warrap state. Over the course of seventeen harrowing years, he survived Ethiopian and Kenyan refugee camps, and eventually made it to Denver, Colorado, in the United States of America, where he now pursues a PhD. 

 

In detailing the journeys of the Lost Boys, as well as the murderous actions of the Murahalin Militia before and after the Second Sudanese Civil War, Mr. Chol paints a vivid picture of one of modern history's most horrific human rights abuses. In so doing, he also offers hope in the power of the human spirit to overcome trauma and tragedy—especially when we focus on serving others.  

 

Leading The Lost Boys: The Untold Journey is part of Paulino Mamiir Chol's effort to fight the inhuman darkness we are all capable of, and to empower and inspire the hearts of those suffering.  

 

All proceeds will go to the Mamiir Chol Foundation (MACH), which will provide funds to villagers in Twic County for clean drinking wells, clinics, schools, and community centers. Proceeds will also support organizations working for human rights, homeless children, widowed mothers, disabled people, and to protect women and girls from sexual abuse, exploitation, and gender-based violence.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: PAULINO MAMIIR CHOL
• Release date: Mar 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201191160

Book preview

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Copyright @ 2021 by Paulino Mamiir Chol

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted in writing from the author.

www.machfoundation.org

ISBN: 978-0-578-32698-6

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Acknowledgments

Ways to Help

Preface

Introduction

Chapter 1: From South Sudan to America

Origins

War Seeps into the Bloodline

At the Pinyido Refugee Camp

Developing Hearts and Minds

The Civil War Has Followed Us

Arrival at Pochalla

The Hunted Leaves in Pochalla

The Desire for Hope in Kapoeta County

The Final Camp

World Recognition of the Lost Children

Chapter 2: Leading and Survival

Leadership of the Lost Boys

Structure and Leadership within the Lost Boys

My First Experiences of Leadership at Pinyido Refugee Camp

Fighting Disease with Leadership

Faith in God and Benevolence

The Changes in Leadership in the Kakuma Refugee Camp

Transformation into Head Boy

When Heavy Burdens Must Be Carried: The Deng vs. Deng Case

Stopping the Plans of a Thief with Leadership

My Help Stopped the Stealing Habits of a Small Boy

Deng and Ajang vs. Chol: Another Case about Stealing

Ayuolo Is Disgraced by the Scandal

Nyarweng Community Group 36 vs. Minor Group 41: A Violent Case

Joseph Akol Makeer vs. Peter Akoi Jok: A Violent Case

Chapter 3: Conscription, Abuses, Corruption, and Names of the Lost Boys Leaders

Who Faced Conscription into the SPLA?

In Kakuma, the SPLA Leadership Used a High-Rank-Promotion Tactic

Major Gier Chuang Aluong Executed Four Soldiers in Front of Children

The Teachers Who Abused the Lost Boys in the Camps

The Teachers Used More Power than Authority

How I Defended and Helped Four Lost Boys in Pochalla County

The Incident of Two Lost Boys Held at Gunpoint

Camp Chairman Deng Dau Malek Let Thieves Go Unpunished

An Incident of Theft between Two Minor Groups

An Incident of Theft between Minor Group 41 and Community Group 13

The Abraham Panchol Jol Incident

An Incident Involving Members of Minor Group 41

Lost Identities

Friendship of the Lost Boys

The Lost Boys Are a Resilient Generation

Conclusion

Evidence of Shocking and Painful Corruption

Painful Corruption at the UN Level

Former Lost Boys Leaders in the Kakuma Refugee Camp

The Resettlement Program Was Under Cruel Attack

Chapter 4: Conflicts in the Kakuma Refugee Camp

The Father of Refugee Divisions

Isolation of the Nuer Tribe

Negative Effects of the 1993 Attack on the Nuer Tribe

Fight between the Dinka Sections: Bor and Bahr el Ghazal

Who Was to Blame?

Fight between Minor Group 29 and Ajuong Community Group 33

Fight between the Dinka and Nuer Tribes in 1996

Fighting between the Dinka Sections

Fighting between the Dinka Section and the Equatoria Tribes

A Violent Case between Minor Group 41 and Minor Group 43

A Blood Feud between the Bor and the Bahr el Ghazal Communities

Author’s Note

Coming Soon by Paulino Mamiir Chol

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Paulino Mamiir Chol would like to thank the following people for their unquestioning support, encouragement, and guidance.

Leaders and Members of Minor Group 41

Former village/company leader William Wuoi Pach

Late former village/company late leader John Mach Rual

Former village leader Ajak Deng Chol

Former village leader Peter Akoi Jok

Former village leader Abraham Atem Deng

Former village leader Michael Deng Garang

Former village leader Abraham Nhial Alier

Former head boy group 6, David Dut Ayuen in South Sudan

Former company 6 leader David Dut Aboor in South Sudan

Simon Deng Achuek, Simon Deng Ngueny, Samuel Chau Wel, Awuol Atem Awuol, Kuol Mayom Deng, Abraham Lual Diing, John Mayom Kelei, Daniel Deng Mapur, Daniel Nhial Mach, Gabriel Thon Kuol, Gabriel Mamer Akuok, Peter Deng Makuei, Kolnyin Nak Goljok, David Maluak Diyo, David Ngor Reng, Marial Bior Mathiang, Chol Garang (Malimu), Abraham Gai Yel, Joseph Galuak Dau, Door Kuol, Samuel Jol Deng, Angelo Mathuch Achuil, David Malith Ngang, John Reng Tiop, Garang Guot Ngor, Abraham Maluak Nhial, Emmanuel Magok Bol, Samuel Makuach Lul, Telar Manyuon Telar, Mabek Akiel Dau, Maker Akau Yuol, Peter Guot Arok, Mach Deng Machar, Nyiel Dot Duot, James Amet Ajieth, Gabriel Thon Gai, Deng Garang Gak, and late Abraham Kai Bol.

Members of Different Minor Groups and Community Groups

Former Minor Group 1 Head Boy James Tong Mathiang

Former Minor Group 2 Head Boy Angelo Biar Deng

Former Minor Group 3 Head Boy Gabriel Majok Bol

Former Minor Group 4 Head Boy Atak Lual

Former Minor Group 22 Head Boy Mawut Marok Ayom

Former Minor Group 28 Head Boy David Thiong Deng

Former Minor Group 29 Head Boy Samuel Leek Lual

Former Minor Group 42 Head Boy Santino Macuei Malual

Former Minor Group 43 Head Boy Ernest Maluak Manyuot

Former Minor Group 44 Head Boy Makuei Jok

James Garang Dhel, Chuor Lueth Chuor, Jacob Thuom Lueth, Gor Kol Ajak, Daniel Yai Dau, Madut Bol, Mack Awer Riak, Samuel Majok Manyang, Deng Madut Lual, Riing Maper Ayuel, Sarah Amour Mayen Ngor, Ajak Majak Kwai, and Bior Alier Riak Ajak.

Leaders, Caretakers, and Teachers

Former Minor Group 41 Head Caretaker Arkangello Angou Makor

Former Minor Group 41 Deputy Head Caretaker Kueth Mathiang

Former Minor Group 41 Caretaker Achol Jogaak Deng

Former Minor Group 41 Caretaker Adhieu Yak

Former Minor Group 41 Caretaker Majok Kuol Jok

Former Teacher Bol Deng Tach

Late Former Headmaster and Zone Four School Inspector Deng Machel

Late Former Judge Malong Lual Deng

Senior People and Officials

Honorable Mayen Ngor Atem

Ivory Bank Manager Tito Thuch Malueth

Honorable Kuany Mayom Deng

Honorable Goch Makuach Mayol

Honorable Ajang Bior Duot

Sultan and Executive Chief Jacob Madhol Lang Juuk

Honorable Nyayath Manyuat Kuot

Margaret Samuel Aru

Dr. Nadia Arop Dudi

Makur Marol ADuot

Simon Akuei Deng, John Lok Agook, Abuoch Ayuel Abuoch, Mangong Aguek, Mangok Agiir, Madut Ajing in South Sudan, and AnnCoury Mulloy in Kentucky.

Former Professors from Different Universities

Dr. Brent Carter at Colorado Technical University in Colorado Springs, Colorado

Denver Juvenile Court Judge Laurie A. Clark at the University of Denver Sturm College of Law

Assistant Dean Jessica Boynton at the University of Denver Sturm College of Law

Law professor Tonye Oki at the University of Denver Sturm College of Law

Dr. Frank Prochaska, professor emeritus at Colorado Technical University in Colorado Springs

Rodney Walker, senior instructor at the University of Colorado in Colorado Springs

Jeff Kenefsky, social studies teacher from Cheyenne Mountain High School in Colorado Springs

Victoria Angelique Olson, film director

Julie Smith, administrative officer at Cush & Wakefield in Colorado Springs, Colorado

Ways to Help

All proceeds from Leading the Lost Boys will go to the Mamiir Chol Foundation (MACH), which will distribute funds to drill wells for villagers to have clean drinking water; to build clinics, schools, and community centers in Twic County; to organizations working for human rights, protection of women and girls from sexual abuse and exploitation, gender-based violence, which include rape, and forced marriage, homeless children, widowed mothers, and disabled people; and to build a library in Juba, South Sudan.

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Paulino Mamiir Chol with the lost boys at Kakuma refugee camp in 2000.

In the photo, I am with Simon Deng Ngueny in New York, Alith Wel in South Sudan, Joseph Gatluak Dau in Arizona, Samuel Makuach Lul in Kentucky, Samuel Chau Wel in New York, and Deng Magor in Kentucky. We used to cultivate vegetables in our Minor Group 41, Zone 4, Kakuma refugee camp, Kenya. We were in our small garden because we used to grow spinach, okra, beans, and sukuma wiki for our survival. We gained that cultivation experience from our Deputy Camp Chairperson, Mayen Ngor Atem in Pinyido refugee camp, Ethiopia, from 1988 to 1991. Honorable Mayen Ngor Atem is currently an agriculture minister in Jonglei State. Our former leader Mayen Ngor used to tell us that everywhere is food. Our former leader Mayen Ngor trained us to cultivate our crops for survival. Therefore, we adopted his vision and see every soil has food when you are a hard worker to grow your crops for survival.

Preface

This book is the sad and expressive account of my life from when I was kidnapped and separated from my immediate family in the Twic area of South Sudan through the seventeen years I spent in Ethiopian and Kenyan refugee camps to the time I reached Denver, Colorado, in the United States of America.

I wrote this book to reach out to others to help them understand the killings and kidnappings committed by Arab militias in Sudan before and during the Second Sudanese Civil War and to help readers understand the journey of the Lost Boys from refugee camp to refugee camp. This book also discloses the leadership required to shepherd hundreds of the Lost Boys during one of the most horrific periods of human rights abuses of this generation. You will learn about the atrocities committed by the Sudanese government as you read the only published account of a kidnapping survivor and true leader of the Lost Boys of South Sudan and encounter the journey of tragedy and triumph I endured as I traveled barefoot across South Sudan, Ethiopia, and Kenya.

Although I was in a season of darkness and the worst of times, I still believed and hoped that there would be a time I could be educated and share my terrible experiences with the world to prevent the same harrowing things from repeating themselves with others. This book is a form of defense, and I promise to strongly fight against inhumanity and human rights abuses. This fight consolidates my belief, faith, and hope in humanity and human rights.

Thank you so much for reading.

—Paulino Mamiir Chol

Denver, Colorado, USA 2021

Introduction

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, and it was the winter of despair.

—A Tale of Two Cities

Charles Dickens could have easily written these words when Arab militias attacked our village, kidnapped women and children, and killed men; the left-behind children fled to refugee camps; the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM)/Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) officers and teachers abused the Lost Boys; the South Sudanese and Kenyan officials practiced corruption; and the Lost Boys finally arrived in the Western nations. It was the worst of times when the Arab militias dismembered and killed the caught men in front of the children. It was the worst of times when old and disabled people were burned in the huts because they were unable to run. It was the worst of times when our women were forcibly circumcised. It was the worst of times when our women were raped in open places. It was the season of darkness when children walked for over three thousand miles on bare feet to safety. It was the worst of times when the Sudanese army killed children. It was the worst of times when curable ailments (malaria, typhoid, cholera, and diarrhea) killed ten boys every day in the Pinyido refugee camp in Ethiopia. It was the worst of times when lions and crocodiles killed many Lost Boys along the way. It was the worst of times when SPLM/SPLA officers and teachers ate our food while we were starving to death in Pochalla County, South Sudan. It was the worst of times when the SPLM/SPLA officers and teachers physically and psychologically abused the children. It was the worst of times when three thousand Lost Boys remained in the Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya because our leaders had sold the names of Lost Boys so that other boys could relocate to America instead of the Lost Boys. But it was the best of times when some Lost Boys were able to come to the United States and start their new lives. In addition, it has been the best of times, and a glimmer of hope, when some of the Lost Boys have received their higher education in the Western world.

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Chapter 1

From South Sudan to America

Origins

A menacing specter tormented South Sudan from 1983 through 2005, and I met it on many occasions. It rode on horseback at sickening speed and drove trucks with .50-caliber machine guns mounted on the back. It could fly Antonov-manufactured (Russian) bombers, and it left smoking craters filled with blood. It strapped ammunition over its shoulders, running through our villages while its Kalashnikov rifles cracked the air. It created fear as dense and as ominous as a dust storm. It detached parents from children, and widowed wives. At times, the torment crept in as quietly as the hot midday breeze. Yet there were nights when you could hear its brutality moving in from a distance—the horse hooves on baked dirt and the whine of engines racing toward you. By morning, there was nothing left but glowing cinders, hacked limbs, brass shell casings, and a deep sense of loss.

Trauma like this happened to thousands of villages across the country for dozens of years. In the twenty years that made up the Second Sudanese Civil War, more than two million South Sudanese were killed, and over four million were displaced to neighboring countries. We had crops and cattle. We were not soldiers, and during those years, there was no sense of defense or offense—only escape. While Kenya and Ethiopia offered refugees like me a small portion of assistance, the endeavor of traversing a thousand miles to reach the camps through warring territories, barefoot, gnawed our souls raw. And I was not alone. I was a leader of the Lost Boys of South Sudan, and there were hundreds of children who were counting on me. We ran, walked, starved, bled, lived, and died—together. Although our hope was continually parched, still, we walked on, and on, and on.

We received the name lost for being children who had fled their South Sudanese villages during attacks from the Arab Muslim militias that marauded us from their northern bases. By the time the Comprehensive Peace Agreement was signed to end the war, lost children had been entirely displaced and orphaned throughout the region. Dispersed across thousands of miles and multiple African countries, most of us did not know if our parents were alive or dead. Specific to the Lost Boys, we were not old enough to become soldiers. And anyone who was not a soldier became a refugee. When we were not running from the enemy, we were often overworked by the SPLM/SPLA officers and teachers—building their houses and fences as well as digging their latrines in the refugee camps. We washed their clothes as if we were their servants. And each day in the camps, we were tasked to grind maize and sorghum into flour, cook their food, and fetch their water. To our enemy, we were targets, and to the Sudanese army, we were often slaves of convenience.

To this day, we have no records or birth certificates. When most of us were born, there were no hospitals or clinics in South Sudan to document our existence. Just like the centuries of generations before us, our mothers gave birth to us in the sand—only to pick us up and run to avoid the civil wars that ravaged our communities. This was, and in many places still is, the nature of East Africa. Home was never a permanent idea. Our villages were always under threat, and very few of us could stay in one place for long. Most unorganized territories like South Sudan were constantly under changing regimes, with no consistent government to care for the needs of their people. Older boys were plucked from their families for the nearby army or rebel group—which continually changed. There were militias with a variety of sponsors. There were wars from the north and civil wars among the territories—and there were times when we were not sure who was attacking our villages.

Change affected everyone all the time in South Sudan. Young girls were married off to man after man in their teenage years and often found themselves departing their families just as they were getting old enough to contribute to tribal life. Boys who could not become soldiers were refugees. Girls who were not old enough to marry were often abused. Those small girls were on the run with the remainder of their families. With each change of dictatorship, numerous fleeting attempts for a new democracy, and the constant shifting of battle lines, the possibility of moving to a stable civil infrastructure was continually set back. While many countries in Africa and the rest of the world advanced to some degree, we failed to gain any footing to move forward. It was not until the United Nations started an initiative to document our births that something certain was given to each of us. We were all given a birthdate of January 1.

I am Paulino Mamiir Chol and one of the Lost Boys of South Sudan. I was born on January 1, 1981, according to UN official records. But no one is certain when my birthday is or exactly how old I am. I was born in a small rural village called Gok in Akuar section, Twic County, in the north-central South Sudanese state of Warrap. In the Dinka language, my native tongue, Warrap means river of sorghum. I grew up as a member of the Dinka tribe, the largest single group in South Sudan, numbering six to seven million people and consisting of more than twenty-five different subgroups. The Dinka tribe, like most tribes in South Sudan, speaks its own language and has its own culture. We are a proud and friendly people who deeply honor our culture, history, and folklore. We are known for our expertise in pasturing and our knowledge of geography as well. Some communities of the Dinka tribe are also located in the Upper Nile and Southern Kordofan regions (Abyei District) several hundred miles north.

This area is predominately made up of fertile land, lush savannah grassland, and swampy regions defined by the tributaries of the White Nile River. Bahr el Ghazal is rich in its natural resources of oil and diamonds, while the Abyei District in Southern Kordofan is endowed with huge petroleum reserves. And to this day, our resources have been the treasures of many conflicts.

The history of Sudan as a nomadic, tribal, and trade-oriented region dates back thousands of years before Christ. Early influences of Christianity moved south from the Mediterranean in the third century AD and provided what would become the basis for conflict as Islamic and Arabic miners began to harvest the natural resources of the area nearly three hundred years later. It wasn’t until the mid-1800s that the impact of the Ottoman-Egyptian governance failures in Sudan created a vacuum for nationalist Islamic leaders to conquer more and more northern territories.

In 1898, the British and Egyptian governments established a joint administration of the country while segmenting the north and south as provinces, with the eventual intent to make South Sudan a British colony. By the mid-1900s, the northern province of Sudan was being prepared for self-governance. Due to the significant administrative effort to stabilize the province of the north, much of the south’s civic and municipal governments, and their participation in the federalization from the north, were left by the wayside. In a traumatic reversal, Britain changed its policies for the administration of the provinces and deemed that the newly created northern government would now integrate both north and south. The language of the new government would be Arabic, which was not spoken by South Sudanese representatives. Like a giant storm moving southward, the northern Islamic state spread its rule by Sharia law. The disparity between their law and the law of South Sudan became an inferno. Apologies from the north were rare when a South Sudanese was intentionally or accidentally killed. However, when a southerner killed an Arab person, the Khartoum government hanged the person immediately. Justice was always imposed and served on behalf of the Arab people who were settlers in our land, but injustice was the practice against the southerners who were the natives of Sudan.

It was an unimaginable experience to hear the Quran quoted as justification for the atrocities we heard and saw in our land. We were cattle farmers and not much more, so to have our simple lives become a target for such evil was very difficult to bear. We heard Arab rulers from the north cite their scriptures, which proclaimed, Fight against them so that Allah will punish them by your hands and disgrace them and give you victory over them and heal the breasts of a believing people (Al-Tawba 14). The villages of my people knew of these threats and heard what was already happening in the northern territories where other Christian-believing tribes lived. Even so, we were terrified. In 1983, the central government in Khartoum (the northern capital), along with its state-supported militias—we called them Murahalin in South Sudan, and in Darfur, they were called Janjaweed—declared an all-out war against the people of the south.

The term Murahalin refers to groups of young Baggara men who accompanied herds of cattle ahead of the rest of the tribe in the seasonal movements of the herds. The Murahalin traveled on horseback and camels and were armed by the Khartoum government. The militia-planned offensive was mainly targeting the communities, such as Ngok, Malual, Twic, and Awan Dinka, and Nuer tribes on the borders. The forces arrived from many directions to murder villagers, loot food, raid millions of cattle, burn villages to ash, and capture women and children for slavery. It did not matter whether you were a general, a soldier, a mother, or a young boy like me who was caring for grazing animals. We all were targeted for extermination.

As a young boy following my father’s example, I served as a herd boy for cattle, sheep, and goats. The rich soil of our fertile land and its water resources were ideal for our herds, which we relied on for survival. We lived a simple and rural existence. And it is the memories of that youthful time that I carry today like photos in my heart. There were eight of us in my family. My two brothers died at a young age of malnutrition—all due to the constant decimation by the militias of our food and resources. My parents’ lives were later claimed by the Arab militias in different years. Only my three sisters and I have survived.

War Seeps into the Bloodline

At the start of the Second Sudanese Civil War in 1983, the SPLM/SPLA and other commanders from various tribes in South Sudan, led by the late Dr. John Garang, a Dinka tribesman, began the campaign to fight on behalf of the black Christians of the south. Dr. Garang was a well-liked politician in the south. This was mainly because of his consistent message of national unity, where the minority groups would be a majority. He called it the New Sudan, and with the support of other bordering countries, there was the hope that his dream could become our reality. Ultimately, it was clear that the resistance movement was not only for restraining northern forces from gaining more South Sudanese land and natural resources. It was well recognized that the religious beliefs, cultural values, and economic and social stability of the south were at risk of collapse. The war against the north was to protect us from extinction.

From the ground and air, the ruling Khartoum-sponsored militias attacked thousands of South Sudanese villages, sabotaged roads, and infrastructure, and attempted to systematically eradicate civilians who were within reach. It created such a palpable sense of fear that you could taste it in your mouth. Thousands of families with young children fled their villages, leaving everything behind. For all of us who were not in the military, our only option was to run until we could no longer hear the guns.

The Arab militias attacked my family’s village and killed the men; kidnapped the women and children; looted cattle, goats, and sheep; and burned our huts, as well as other nearby communities, to ash. The trauma of hearing the machine guns in the villages caused pregnant women to have miscarriages. This was one of the first times that chaos left its indelible imprint on my soul. And while some of us survived for the moment, life always seemed to be ending for someone else nearby. The constant attacks eventually claimed the lives of my parents in different years. The Muslim Sudanese militias took thousands and thousands of cattle from our village and left the