by Marysia Zapasnik

“What toll free number do you or your parents call if you see a dangerous or suspicious item?” ask the Community Liaison team in a school in Djiri, Republic of Congo.

“9090” the children chant.

How do they all know? MAG has painted a child friendly safety message on the school wall, with the number to call. Seeing the bright painting every day, helps the children to remember; and helps the children to stay safe.

by Angelo Lawrence (National Community Liaison Manager)

Since the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) and later Independence Day in July 2011, hundreds of thousands of returnees have arrived in South Sudan, coming back to their homeland and the homeland of their ancestors, to begin a new life. First they came in extremely large numbers, on buses, boats and planes. They had little or no knowledge of the dangers posed by these deadly items and were at high risk of accidents. MAG Community Liaison (CL) teams were there to greet them and to provide them with potentially life-saving Mine Risk Education. MAG Community Liaison Officers worked at way stations, Internally Displaced Persons camps and returnee camps, teaching them about the dangers from landmines and unexploded ordnance (UXO) South Sudan, and how to stay safe.

Now, the number of returnees has decreased considerably. People are still returning, but their movement is more diluted, spontaneous and sporadic. Whenever possible, MAG CL teams visit the way stations, but they can no longer stay there for long periods of time; they have lots of other work to do all over South Sudan. Teams are currently working from Yei to Yambio, from Maridi to Malakal, and from Bor to Bentiu.

So the problem was: how could these new returnees still learn about the dangers of mines and UXO, when MAG CL teams are spread all the country and can no longer spend long periods of time waiting at the way stations?

As a solution, MAG designed Safe Return Booklets. These very visual publications have photos to illustrate different landmines and UXO that can be found in South Sudan. They provide advice on what to do if an individual comes across these items during their daily activities. They also provide guidance on safe behaviour to limit the risks posed by these dangerous items. Information is available in both English and Arabic, the main languages spoken by many of the returnees.

In September, a MAG handed sixty Safe Return booklets over to UNHCR in Juba. They will be used by staff to provide safety briefings and information to newly arrived returnees when MAG teams are unavailable.

“These items will be used by UNHCR at Way Stations and other locations where returnees and refugees are located in order to promote safer behavior. Thank you to MAG for this useful resource,” said Hester Clark, a Protection Officer at UNHCR who received the items from MAG.

MAG has been working in South Sudan since 2004, carrying out mine action activities and providing crucial mine risk education to returnees, refugees and other at-risk groups.

by Marysia Zapasnik

To mark the International Day of the African Child MAG Community Liaison teams visited the Juba Orphanage for a fun afternoon together. Thirty-seven children live there aged two to 12. We gave them a child friendly Risk Education session which included songs, dances, games and lots of action and energy.

“We want to……..STAY SAFE!” sang the CL teams and children together.

We gave the children pictures to colour with safety messages about not touching dangerous items, looking after each other and playing only in safe places. We helped the children decorate their dormitory walls with these colourful pictures and asked each to tell us a safety message they could pass on to their friends.

“I will tell my friend Sekina to tell an adult if she sees something she does not know what it is,” explained 8 year old Kani.

Face painting, bubble blowing, and balloon volleyball we also part of the fun afternoon, as was a picnic with juice and biscuits, underneath the mango tree. The community liaison teams also had their faces painted. “We are also African children,” said CLM Angelo Lawrence. “It is a day for all of us to have fun together”.

by Marysia Zapasnik

The most vulnerable members of any community are often the children. This is especially true in South Sudan, where children as young as three walk around unaccompanied in bushy areas that can be contaminated with explosive remnants of war. Children as young as six are often given the chore of grazing animals.

Today we met 11 year old Nassir and his two baby goats Leben (milk) and Chorba (soup). He was wandering about the bushy wasteland on the outskirts of an IDP camp near the border with the Sudan. People use that wasteland to bury their dead, graze their animals, defecate and collect grass for their shelters. Unexploded ordnance (UXO) has been reported there.

We explained the dangers to Nassir and asked if he could perhaps find another area to graze his goats. He explained that his family had only just returned to South Sudan from the north. He did not know where else to go with his goats and was worried the local host community would chase him away from another area.

We organised a meeting with the local host authorities and the camp representatives. It was agreed that children could graze their animals on the wasteland the other side of the camp, where there had been no reports of dangers.

Now Nassir, and all the other children in the Abayok camp can carry out their daily chores of grazing animals in a much safer way.

by Marysia Zapasnik

We travelled north seven hours by road and arrived in another camp. After the Risk Education session, twelve year old Susan came up to us.

“Excuse me, I have seen one of those bad things by my grandmother’s shelter,” she said in a quiet voice.

We showed her the pictures of mines and UXO again, and asked her to point to the item that she had seen. Confidently, and without hesitation, she pointed to an anti-tank mine. She took us close to the grass hut in which she was staying with her grandmother and pointed at a metal object only just poking out of the ground. It was about the size of dinner plate. It really did look like an anti-tank mine, so we immediately evacuated the area.

However, after careful inspection from a safe viewing point, we concluded the item was just a piece of scrap metal. We told everyone they could return to their shelters as the area was safe, and we thanked Susan for her excellent observation and reporting skills.

“I reported the item because these people [MAG] told me about all the bad things mines can do to us,” explained Susan. “I wanted to protect my grandmother. She is the only family I have, she looks after me and I look after her.”

We left the area with a very scary thought: if a piece of scrap metal can look almost exactly like a mine, so a mine can look almost exactly like a piece of scrap metal.  In a resource poor country like South Sudan, people often pick up any piece of scrap they can, hoping to make it into something useful. These people truly are at risk.

by Marysia Zapasnik

We woke early this morning, at first light, and made out way to the way station in Malakal, South Sudan. We had heard that a barge was arriving with hundreds of returnees on board. After decades of war, they were finally coming back to their homeland. Excited shouts and cheers filled the air.

Many were wearing their best clothes and had colourful rosaries around their necks. They had survived the war, they had escaped the recent fighting on the border and now they were back home. There were hanging on to mattresses, suitcases, blankets, baskets, buckets, bed frames, hold-alls, and a couple of bicycles - all their worldly possessions.

While they waited to be registered, we began introducing ourselves and organising the crowd into smaller groups.

“Are you doctors?” one of the returnees, Sunday Simon, asked. “Are you here to give us food? To give us building materials?”

“No,” we replied. “We are here to protect you and your family and friends from landmines and other dangerous items.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, then Sunday moved into action: “Hey everyone, come here and listen to these people. South Sudan is still not safe! We must know what the dangers are.”

And so we began our work. We showed pictured of landmines and other explosive remnants of war and helped people to recognise them and not mistake them for other items. We explained what could happen if dangerous items were touched or moved and, using bright posters, we discussed risky and safe behaviour.

Children clambered on top of luggage to get a better view. As I sat with the youngest children and sang our ‘Mine Song’ to them, four-year-old Taban Lino reached out gingerly to touch my ‘white’ arm. He pulled some of my blonde hairs and smiled up at me. I was happy he felt safe and I truly hope that the time we spent with his family today will keep him safe forever.

by Marysia Zapasnik

Deep in the remote Doro refugee camp in South Sudan, among tens of thousands of tents and makeshift shelters, among smoking fires with boiling sorghum and women carrying firewood and water, among the insecurity of people forced by war to flee their homes, there is the distant sound of laughter. Innocent and carefree - the sound of happy children.

In a clearing swept clean of thorns and refuse, hundreds of children of all ages are playing with balls, skipping ropes and frisbees. Under one shady tree in a corner of the clearing a small group of children is sitting on woven mats and looking eagerly at a recently arrived MAG Community Liaison team. MAG is working closely with Save the Children to protect all the refugee children playing in the camp’s Child Friendly Spaces. The team pulls dolls, posters and bags out of their vehicle and approaches the children with smiling faces and friendly waves. With them is a specially trained local translator - skilled in the art of capturing the attention and interest of young children.

The team begins by introducing themselves and then moves straight into a fun song and dance routine. In their hands they wave colourful African rag dolls and the children are captivated.

The Community Liaison team use song, dance, theatre, games and role play to educate children providing them with safety knowledge in a fun and entertaining way. The children, who as young as three walk around unaccompanied, need to know what is dangerous and what is safe, what not to touch and the areas from which to stay away. It is a matter of life and death.

“Of course,” explains Community Liaison Officer William Ton Thor. “When we are working with the youngest children - only three or four years old - our message must be extremely simple. ‘Do not touch strange objects and if you see something tell your Mama, Baba o Ustas’ - that means mum, dad or teacher. With the slightly older children, we ask them to look after their younger brothers and sisters.”

The children learn how to recognise international warning signs and learn that red means danger and white means safe. William holds up a red picket and the children shout: ‘Mushika!’ (Danger!) and run away. Then he holds up a white picket and they all shout: ‘Borga!’ (Safe!) and run towards him. Next it’s time for the theatre show.

The team uses dolls to enact children finding a dangerous item. One of the dolls plays with the item and when it explodes, the doll loses a leg. The children are then asked what the doll did wrong.

“She touched the thing,” explains seven-year-old Adam. “She must not touch any strange thing, like a metal fish, or she will be hurt.” Older children discuss the effects of mine and unexploded ordnance accidents and the team encourages them to think of ways they can best help someone in their community who has a related disability.

When the children are asked if they will touch any strange objects they may find in the refugee camp or anywhere else, they all loudly shout: No! The team smiles: it’s been a job well done.

With waves and smiles, the team bids farewell to the first group of children and moves on to the next. MAG Community Liaison teams have so far provided risk education to more than 8,000 children in the Doro refugee camp, most of them below the age of ten.