Abiemnhom’s women and the weight of survival

During the last two weeks of February, women in Abiemnhom followed a routine drawn along the edges of danger. Each evening, they walked to the compound of the United Nations Mission in South Sudan (UNMISS), seeking safety in numbers and in close proximity to international peacekeepers. At dawn, they returned home - to cook, to care for their children, to hold together what remained of ordinary life. For fourteen days, this routine continued as if life were still ordinary.

On the fifteenth day, word spread that it was no longer necessary to continue sleeping at the UNMISS base. The nights, they were told, were safe again. Women stayed in their homes. Families slept together. For the first time in weeks, there was a sense of relief.

At around four in the morning, gunfire shattered that illusion.

The attack came suddenly. Armed men moved through the town, blocking the roads that led to UNMISS. Those who tried to flee in the darkness, toward what they believed was safety, were shot along the way or killed at the gates. “God alone saved and protected the citizens,” Ayak Deng, a survivor, said in an interview with Geeska.

A month after the attack

On April 1st, exactly one month after the assault on Abiemnhom, the scale of the violence was still coming into focus. The attack, carried out on March 1st by an armed youth group, left at least 213 people dead, according to figures compiled by local media outlet Hot in Juba. Among them were women, children, and the elderly - at least ninety, according to Ruweng’s Information Minister, James Monyluak Mijok. There has been no official public investigation into the attack.

Authorities have suggested that the perpetrators may have come from neighboring Unity State and could be linked to the Sudan People’s Liberation Army in Opposition (SPLA-IO), though the group has denied any involvement. In the absence of confirmed findings, uncertainty continues to shape survivors’ sense of justice.

International and regional organizations condemned the violence. In a statement, UNICEF described the attack as part of a worsening pattern across South Sudan, where civilians - especially women and children - bear the brunt of escalating conflict. The organization warned that ongoing clashes are driving families from their homes and cutting off access to essential services, including health care, education, and protection.

The attack on Abiemnhom is one of many similar cases. Since late 2025, humanitarian conditions across South Sudan have deteriorated. Between January and March alone, conflict in areas such as Jonglei displaced nearly 268,000 people, according to data from the International Organization for Migration (IOM), with women making up the majority of those affected.

Abiemnhom itself sits in the Ruweng Administrative Area, near the contested Abyei region, and is known both as a county headquarters and an oil-producing area. Its location, strategically and economically significant, has long made it vulnerable to instability.

Women in Flight

When the attack began, women fled in the dark, often with children in their arms and little else. They left behind husbands, brothers, and fathers - many of whom would not survive.

Sarah Mayen, a mother who escaped and is now living in Abyei, recalls the hours of violence that unfolded before dawn. The attack, she said, lasted about five hours. People hid wherever they could: inside homes, behind courtyard walls, pressed against structures that offered only the illusion of protection.

“Most people were targeted while inside their homes,” she said. “When they tried to escape, they were shot in their courtyards or in the streets.”

Some died where they had lived. Others collapsed along the paths they had hoped would lead to safety. For many, the courtyard walls of their homes, or their faith, were the only protection they had. Those who managed to escape ran into the surrounding forests, scattering in all directions.

“Even children were separated from their families,” Sarah said. “Some only found each other later on the roads or in the forest. Only a few managed to hold hands as they left.”

Displacement and Trauma

In the weeks since the attack, thousands have gathered in Abyei, seeking refuge wherever space could be found. Many women from Abiemnhom are now living in open areas or in makeshift shelters, including a youth center that hosts roughly two thousand families, far beyond its intended capacity.

Rose Dau, secretary of a civil society organization, described the condition of the displaced in an interview with Geeska.

“Most of the women who fled are severely affected,” she said. “Many have lost husbands or family members. Some witnessed the killings themselves. From their expressions, you can see the trauma they carry.” The psychological toll is visible but largely untreated.

With so many men killed, women have assumed the primary responsibility for their households. They are providers, caregivers, and survivors - roles they must navigate simultaneously under conditions of displacement and uncertainty.

Their experience reflects a broader pattern across conflict-affected areas in South Sudan, where women often carry the long-term burden of violence. Beyond immediate survival, they face ongoing challenges: securing food, accessing healthcare, and protecting children in overcrowded and unstable environments. For pregnant women, breastfeeding mothers, and those caring for young children, these challenges are even more acute.

Humanitarian Gaps

More than four thousand displaced people are currently sheltering across Abyei, including in the youth center and in areas such as Goljok in Rumamir district. Conditions are crowded, and access to basic services remains limited. Shelter is one of the most urgent concerns.

As the rainy season approaches, many families remain in temporary structures that offer little protection from rain or cold. Overcrowding has increased the risk of disease, particularly among children, who are already among the most vulnerable.

Food insecurity is also growing. Many families rely on shared cooking arrangements, with women preparing meals collectively through local support systems. While survivors express gratitude for the assistance provided by host communities, they say it is not enough. Some have called for expanded food distribution and additional communal kitchens to meet rising demand.

Health services are similarly strained. While organizations such as Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) have provided emergency medical care, coverage remains limited. The Danish Refugee Council (DRC) has offered small-scale assistance, such as milk for vulnerable children, but resources are insufficient compared to the scale of need. Basic supplies are lacking.

“Tents were provided,” Rose Dau said, referring to support from the United Nations Interim Security Force for Abyei (UNISFA). “But they do not meet the needs, especially for women.”

Civil society groups have attempted to fill the gaps by collecting and distributing clothing, but essential items such as sanitary pads, soap, and hygiene products remain scarce. “No organization has provided these supplies so far,” she said.

Compounding the situation are recent cuts to humanitarian funding, including from the United States Agency for International Development (USAID). These reductions are already visible on the ground. Much of the available aid in Abyei is allocated to local residents, as the region itself has long been affected by conflict. The arrival of displaced populations has stretched resources even further.

Searching for Stability

Local leaders and humanitarian actors have proposed temporary solutions to address the crisis. One plan involves allocating land on the outskirts of Abyei to establish more permanent shelter sites, where tents can be erected to protect families from the elements. Another focuses on education - with the school year beginning, there is an urgent need to create additional learning spaces and provide supplies for displaced children, as existing schools are already overcrowded. But long-term stability depends on more than infrastructure.

Rose Dau stressed the importance of security, particularly as the farming season approaches. Without safety, displaced families cannot return home, cultivate land, or rebuild their livelihoods. “The suspension of humanitarian aid is not just a problem for South Sudan, it is a global crisis,” she said. “We must find alternatives and support people to become self-reliant. But that begins with ensuring security.”

The Burden of Survival

For Ayak, Sarah, and thousands of other women from Abiemnhom, survival has become a continuous, exhausting task. They are raising children in displacement. They are grieving family members. They are rebuilding lives without protection, without clear accountability, and without certainty about what comes next.

Their memories of the attack remain vivid: the sound of gunfire before dawn, the rush into darkness, the hours spent running through forests, unsure who had survived. Their voices carry a shared demand - for justice, for safety, for recognition. What happened in Abiemnhom is not an anomaly. Across South Sudan - in Jonglei, Upper Nile, and beyond - communities continue to experience cycles of violence and displacement. In each of these places, women bear a disproportionate share of the burden. Without investigation or accountability, the weight of survival falls on them.

They live in a state of constant vigilance, navigating grief and responsibility at once. Rest is rare. Stability is uncertain. The possibility of returning to a life without fear remains distant. Until the underlying drivers of conflict and impunity are addressed, the cycle will continue - leaving communities fractured, and women, once again, carrying the heaviest cost.

Editorial Note: The names of survivors and witnesses have been changed to protect their safety.