John Asworths personlige inntrykk fra seremonien i Malakal 9. januar 2009.

4th CPA anniversary – a personal impression 9 January 2009

The atmosphere was rather less than electric. The stadium was crowded,
but not jam-packed. It was as if people were enjoying the carnival
atmosphere of a big event, any event, regardless of the specific
content.

The carnival began in Malakal many months ago. Almost before the town
had dried out after the rainy season, graders began work on the roads.
Men dug holes for new electricity poles (this seemed a better option
than replacing the hole-boring machine which was broken), and concrete
was poured into moulds to form the poles. Trenches were dug for new
water mains. Large plastic pipes were delivered to different parts of
the town on an army tank transporter (apparently the only vehicle in
town long enough to accommodate them), where they were joined together
and buried. A brand new hotel sprang up on the site of the former
stables. New generators arrived. Work went on until late at night,
seven days a week. Malakal had never seen such a frenzy of activity.
Joy at this very visible and commendable development was tempered
slightly by a widespread belief that the work is being done by
NCP-owned contractors and the money is all going back to the north.

The stadium perhaps became the symbol of progress. What remained of
the old one was bulldozed, and many shook their heads and opined that
the new one would never be ready in time. When I left Malakal in
mid-December 2008 there was literally nothing except a flat piece of
ground. When I returned three weeks later, to my (and, I think,
everyone else's) astonishment there was a shiny new stadium, complete
with pavilion, floodlights, fence, gates, toilets, water, electricity,
running tracks, goalposts and all the other paraphernalia. A
remarkable achievement.

Everything was ready for the big day, but only just. And the hope in
Malakal is that the momentum will not be lost once the visitors leave
and the excitement dies down. The water and electricity still do not
reach the whole town (including my house!), and the newly graded roads
will be a disaster when the rains come if they are not finished with
murram or, preferably, tarmac.

The big day dawned. Malakal Airport had been busy for some days
previously, and every bit of accommodation was filling up. Athletic
events and football matches were taking place all over the town, the
latter with proper kit rarely seen before in Malakal. New luxury buses
suddenly appeared – they must have come by barge as they were too
low-slung to have braved the road from the north. The Indian Army
crane was seen hoisting huge billboards into place. Everything was
ready.

The day started badly. Groups of traditional dancers had been waiting
outside the stadium since early morning. An argument sprang up between
two groups, shots were fired by the police, tear gas was deployed.
Before anyone really knew what was happening the gas had drifted
throughout the stadium, including the pavilion where the lesser VIPs
were beginning to gather. People ran. The gates became bottle-necks
and I witnessed the beginnings of panic as several people fell and
were in danger of being trampled underfoot by the crowds. I must
commend the security forces for stemming the flow and directing the
mass of people around those who had fallen. But the sense of emergency
soon passed and eventually the loudspeakers were reassuring us that it
was just a minor matter, a "trigger-happy policeman", nothing to worry
about nor mar the day's happiness. However later I heard speculation
that this was not an isolated incident but part of the ongoing tension
between Dinka and Shilluk.

The loudspeaker commentary deserves an essay of its own. Our fluent
friend was more of a cheerleader than a narrator. He was constantly
trying to inject an air of excitement into a rather subdued crowd. He
felt the need to keep reminding us why we were here, to celebrate the
CPA, as if we didn't know. "SPLA oye! SPLM oye! Malakal oye! Peace
oye! GOSS oye! All of us oye!" After a few moments silence he
apparently remembered that there is another partner in the CPA and
rather apologetically asked us to shout, "NCP oye!" The mood was good,
and people were willing to "oye" anything, although none of the oyes
were as resounding as I've heard elsewhere on other occasions. Despite
the formal attempts to observe impartiality, the commentary reflected
the southern cause in many a slip of the tongue. All in all it felt
like a very southern celebration rather than a truly national one.

Our commentator also informed us that we were live via satellite
throughout Africa and the world for anyone who could access DSTV.
Heady stuff. However a phone call to a friend in Juba shortly after we
had left the stadium elicited the news that the system had crashed
half way through. I'm told the fault was in Juba, not Malakal...

While the crowds waited in the stadium, the guests of honour, the
President and First Vice President of Sudan, had another task to
attend to: the official opening of various roads, electricity and
water plants, and the new Bank of Sudan. When they finally arrived, we
received a bit of good news. Because we were running so late, the
speeches by all the foreign representatives had been cancelled. Was I
the only one who breathed a sigh of relief that we wouldn't have to
listen to the Dean of the Diplomatic Corps, representatives of the AU,
UN and EU, and the US Ambassador?

Bishop Vincent Mojwok opened the proceedings with the very appropriate
prayer of St Francis ("Lord, make me a channel of your peace..."),
which was followed by a reading from the Holy Qur'an. We then enjoyed
the march past of military and other uniformed forces, and a much
bigger parade of traditional groups, although in the pavilion few
people behind the front couple of rows could actually see anything.
The Governor of Upper Nile introduced the main speakers. At the same
time, as a gesture from the Reth of the Shilluk, both honoured guests
were clothed in the Shilluk traditional dress, the lau.

Comrade Salva Kiir Mayardiit, First Vice President of Sudan and
President of Southern Sudan, spoke in English. He pulled no punches.
More than once he reminded the President of the need for commitment to
implement the CPA. He highlighted the main obstacles to the CPA, Abyei
and the north-south boundary, and was not afraid to name the NCP as
the party which, by rejecting the Abyei Boundary Commission report,
had breached the CPA. He returned to the census, with a surprisingly
firm critique of it. He also referred more than once to Southern
Kordofan and Blue Nile, mentioning their "popular consultation" in the
same breath as the referendum for the south and Abyei. On the failure
to end the conflict in Darfur, the First Vice President allotted some
blame to the liberation movements for their unwillingness to negotiate
with the GNU. All in all, a fairly blunt speech, much appreciated by
some of those whom I spoke to afterwards.

Sadly my Arabic was not good enough to follow the President's long
speech – no doubt I will be edified by a transcript of it in due
course. The only real sign of enthusiasm from the crowd was when he
mentioned new tarmac roads for Malakal – that drew quite a cheer.

At some point during the proceedings protocols were signed for further
development in the south, including the road from Renk to Malakal and
beyond, the bridge over the Sobat, and a new hospital in Rumbek.
Chinese companies seem to have acquired the bulk of the contracts, and
the Chinese Ambassador was happy to sign.

The celebration broke up with a huge traffic jam, the likes of which
has probably never been seen before in Malakal. Guests and residents
alike went to relax and refresh themselves before the next round of
festivities, including dancing and football matches, in the afternoon
and evening. Rumour has it that the President, Vice President and
their entourage are staying the night and will have meetings tomorrow
before moving on.

The CPA has been celebrated. Or was it just a carnival?