Armed with a Calvin education, two master’s degrees and a passion to make a difference for his people, once Lost Boy Mayom Bol Achuk ’06 returned to South Sudan in July 2012. Employed by the Borlaug Institute for International Agriculture to empower community-based organizations and sponsor peace initiatives, Achuk worked in conjunction with Texas A&M and the John Garang Memorial University in South Sudan, fulfilling a dream of giving back to the country he fled as a boy.
In December 2013 while staying with his brother—a medical professional with the country’s army who lived next to a military warehouse—fighting broke out. The brothers heard gunshots and found themselves in the middle of the fight. Rebels had stormed the military warehouse, killing Achuk’s cousin who worked as warehouse manager, to obtain weapons. Achuk and his brother escaped to a safer location on the other side of the Nile River, but when Achuk communicated with the U.S. Embassy, he discovered that without his U.S. passport, which he had left at his brother’s house, they would not be able to help him.
When the fighting ebbed, Achuk snuck back to the house to retrieve his passport. But violence flared again, and he crouched on the floor to stay safe. Eventually, he managed to board a military car heading toward a United Nations compound. Along the way, the car had to dodge bodies strewn on the street. Five times the car was stopped by soldiers, demanding that each person prove he was a Dinka or face immediate execution. In one interview with a soldier, he was warned “don’t bring your American mentality here.” Time and time again, he knew that one wrong move, one mistaken word, could mean an end to his life. Chaos in Juba had reached catastrophic proportions, with mass killings rampant and no regard for civilian life.
When Achuk finally reached the U.N. compound, it was overflowing with people seeking refuge. After two sleepless days, he communicated with the U.S. Embassy and found that they would be evacuating U.S. citizens at noon. “I had to get to the airport as fast as I could, since it was first come, first served. I didn’t wait for a car to take me; I walked. I called four other Americans I knew and helped them escape, too.”
Achuk was evacuated to Nairobi, and the Terry and Bonnie DeJong family, who had shepherded Achuk through his years at Calvin, served as a lifeline, getting him a ticket from Nairobi to Grand Rapids. Mayom left everything behind in South Sudan, so they also equipped him with the necessities to restart his life in the U.S.
As a young boy in a refugee camp, after fleeing from the previous war, Achuk met John Garang, a Sudanese politician and military figure he saw as visionary. “He encouraged us not to fight, but to go to school, get educated and return to Sudan to improve the country,” said Achuk. But when Achuk arrived back in South Sudan, he found that not everyone welcomed a Western education. “People with an education and leadership potential are seen as a threat—some people worry that their job will be taken away by someone with more education. Others fear the ideas learned abroad.”
While he realizes that not all of his countrymen will welcome him with open arms, Achuk remains committed to help his native country: “I was right to run away from my country when I was young and helpless, but now I am grown and want to do what I can to help. For now, though, I do not plan to return until the country stabilizes, probably in at least five years.”
Achuk is saddened to see how South Sudan has bungled the opportunity to start fresh after so many years of war. “Once on a path to democracy, the president decided to grab absolute power for himself, following in the footsteps of so many African presidents. He decided against term limits, preferring to remain in office for life,” he said. “He cannot stand for dissent and had people with opposing viewpoints arrested or killed. Instead of grooming the next level of leaders, the president is destroying them.”
When he arrived in South Sudan, Achuk was hopeful that the country was ready to put aside fighting and start building: schools, agriculture, peace and prosperity. “Development has completely stopped,” said Achuk, “replaced by a political fight. Politicians have wasted the opportunity to improve the lives of the people of South Sudan.”
His wish for his native country is that God would touch the hearts of the South Sudanese to bring unity and peace. “It’s only through God that the people of South Sudan will reconcile, have peace and see themselves as brothers and sisters again,” he said.
Achuk is piecing together his next steps: He’s moved to Washington, D.C., seeking an opportunity with a nongovernmental organization. His dream of aiding his country has been stymied for now. “I’m open to any opportunity that presents itself,” he said.
