By Deng Chol
When the gun was fired in the long and bitter struggle for our liberation, there was no promise of comfort, no assurance of survival, and no guarantee that freedom would ever come.
Yet men and women from every corner of this land stood up and walked into the unknown.
They carried no wealth, no power, and no protection only faith in the words of one man: the late Dr. John Garang de Mabior.
Garang told them that the war was not about him.
It was about the people.
It was about dignity, equality, and a country where all could live free from oppression.
His message burned in their hearts like a flame that could not be put out.
Through hunger, through wounds, through endless nights in the bush, they fought on because they believed in what he told them.
Independence came at a cost that words can barely describe.
Blood soaked the soil of our homeland. Thousands were buried far from home, their graves unmarked, their families never told where they fell.
Limbs were lost.
Eyes were blinded.
Hearts were broken.
And yet, even in the darkest days, there was hope.
They believed that when the war ended, their country would remember them that the suffering they endured would not be in vain.
When the flag finally rose and the people shouted for freedom, the veterans smiled through their pain, knowing they had done their part.
But years after independence, their smiles have faded.
Their strength has turned into sorrow.
Many of those who once carried the dream of freedom now carry only the burden of neglect.
Walk through the markets, through the villages, and you will see them.
Old men with walking sticks.
Women whose faces still show the scars of war.
Young men who returned home as shadows of themselves.
They sit quietly, watching the country they built move forward without them.
Most of them say nothing now.
They speak only when they must.
And when they do, it is not about themselves, not about what they endured, but about what Dr. John Garang told them. His words are their only treasure.
They repeat his messages because they were the only truth they ever had.
They remember how he spoke of equality, of justice, of a united people.
They remember how he said that no South Sudanese should ever be a second-class citizen in their own country.
Those words gave them courage when death surrounded them.
Those words made them believe that one day their children would live in peace and dignity.
But today, their children sit hungry.
Their families live in poverty.
Their bodies, broken by years of war, receive no care, no recognition, and no gratitude from the nation they freed.
After independence, the noise of politics drowned the cries of the veterans.
The focus turned to power, to wealth, to positions not to the people who paid the highest price for freedom.
Those who fought for the liberation of this land were left behind, forgotten by the very leaders who once stood beside them in the struggle.
The veterans have no hospitals.
Their pensions are delayed or stolen.
Their stories are untold, their names missing from the pages of history.
Some die quietly, without medicine, without family, without honor.
Others live in despair, asking themselves whether their sacrifice was worth it.
The nation that once promised them dignity now watches silently as they fade away.
The Legacy of Garang Lives in Their Hearts
And yet, even in their pain, they still remember.
They still believe in the voice of Garang. They remember how he spoke of a “New Sudan,” a place of equality and unity a nation that would not be built on tribalism, greed, or corruption, but on fairness and shared humanity.
To them, Garang’s vision was not politics it was life itself.
They may have nothing left, but they still hold on to his dream.
They speak of him as though he is still alive, still walking beside them, still reminding them that their struggle had meaning.
It is tragic and beautiful at the same time: that those who have been abandoned by their own country still believe in the promise of the man who led them.
True independence is not achieved by raising a flag or declaring a new nation.
True independence lives in how we treat the people who built it.
A free country must care for its heroes.
It must remember its wounded, honor its dead, and protect those who protected it.
If our veterans live in hunger, if our wounded heroes are left to beg, then our freedom is not yet complete.
A nation that forgets its heroes has not yet learned the meaning of freedom.
The wounds of our veterans are not only theirs they are our nation’s open wounds. Every time a veteran sleeps hungry, every time a wounded soldier is ignored, every time the story of a fighter dies with him, our independence loses a piece of its soul.
We must remember them not in words alone, but in action.
They need care, not sympathy.
They need homes, not promises.
They need recognition, not ceremonies once a year.
Their names must be written in our history, their stories taught in our schools, their sacrifices honored in our laws.
The freedom they fought for should not be a memory; it should be a living truth.
Dr. John Garang’s dream cannot die in speeches or slogans.
It must live in how we treat those who carried his dream into the battlefield.
His words still echo, not in parliaments or offices, but in the hearts of those who followed him the men and women who know nothing but what he told them, because that was all they needed to know.
Theirs was not a war for power; it was a war for purpose.
And that purpose must not be forgotten.
Let us not wait until the last of them is gone to build monuments and write songs.
Let us honor them now, while they still live among us tired, wounded, but still proud.
For they are the living memory of our freedom, the pillars that hold this nation upright.
If we lose them without recognition, then we will have lost ourselves.
The writer is a concerned citizen and can be reached at:
dengolesmo5@gmail.com