In the eastern reaches of South Sudan, where the breadth of the sky stretches over parched land and the sound of river currents seems to carry the weight of memory, the town of Motot has become a quiet testament to the relentless ebb and flow of conflict. There, on roads dusted by years of unrest, the morning light finds soldiers on patrol and families pausing in the shade of acacia trees, uncertain what the day will bring.
This week, government forces of the South Sudan People’s Defence Forces reclaimed Motot, a strategic town in Jonglei State that had been held by opposition fighters. Army spokespeople described the operation as part of a broader push to restore control to areas that slipped from government hands in recent months, in a conflict that has reawakened the fears of civil war in Africa’s youngest nation.
Soldiers entering Motot reported that several opposition fighters were killed during the clashes, and that weapons including rocket‑propelled grenades, mortars, rifles, and ammunition were taken as they secured the town. Senior commanders have since visited recaptured areas, seeking to bolster morale in a campaign that military leaders call essential to national stability.
For residents, though, these reports arrive amid a larger rhythm of disturbance and displacement. Renewed fighting in Jonglei since late December of last year has driven hundreds of thousands of civilians from their homes. Families now shelter under the bare canopy of trees or in improvised structures, their routines upended, their fields untended, and their children’s futures tied to the fragile promise of security.
The echoes of armed conflict reach beyond Motot. Across the state, airstrikes and skirmishes have become part of daily life for many, straining an already dire humanitarian situation. Aid groups that once tried to sustain remote communities now struggle to maintain deliveries as insecurity grows and access becomes perilous. In some places, hospitals and clinics have been damaged, and medical supplies lost to the violence, leaving the young and old alike vulnerable to wounds both seen and unseen.
South Sudan’s government describes its actions as necessary to counter a coalition of opposition forces that has seized outposts and threatened advances toward the capital. Yet the toll on civilians blurs the neat lines of military success. In the marketplace where children once played, there are now whispers of where to find clean water and what route might be safer at sunset. These are the concerns that outlive the proclamations of battlefield gains.
And still, beneath the vastness of the South Sudanese sky, people continue to hope for a morning when horizons are defined not by the threat of conflict but by fields of sorghum and laughter in shaded courtyards. For now, however, the reprise of battle in Jonglei is a chapter written in pauses — between breath and understanding, between loss and return, between what was home and what might someday be again.
AI Image Disclaimer Illustrations were created using AI tools and are not real photographs.
Sources African News Agency Xinhua Reuters Associated Press United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs

