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the ones that straddled that nemesis of all Nile explorers, the vast Sudd swamp. The Sudd
had been my greatest worry on undertaking this expedition; I had always known that, if
I reached it too late, I risked the rainy season making it impassable. But now there was
another variable to add to the mix: the very impassability of the Sudd made it a perfect
base for rebel militias. When not attacking towns, they were said to disappear and melt in-
to the emptiness of the Sudd where they could hide amongst the papyrus for weeks on end,
waiting for new supplies of ammunition and armaments to be smuggled across the nation's
fluid borders in the north and east. There was so much information and misinformation
flying around that to see a full picture was impossible, but it seemed that northern Sudan
- led by Omar al-Bashir, who had himself come to power in a military coup twenty-five
years before - was covertly supporting the rebels, whilst publicly giving shows of solidar-
ity with Kiir's government. In the east, meanwhile, the Ethiopians had adopted a neutral,
mediatory stance, offering to hold peace talks - while Uganda, and even the USA, were
sending in troops in support of the government. Hundreds of Ugandan soldiers had already
lost their lives patrolling the roads and towns along the border they shared, and the USA
had seen several of its own killed in the fighting when they attempted to extricate Amer-
ican citizens trapped inside the constantly shifting zone. More than a million people had
already fled their homes, either seeking sanctuary across the border or settling in Intern-
ally Displaced Persons' camps. With the country's infrastructure rapidly collapsing, and
the economy barely functioning, famine was being spoken about by the NGOs on the bor-
der. And, though the UN were involved in trying to broker a ceasefire, this was proving
more problematic than it ought to have - the head of its mission, Hilde Johnson, had been
accused of siding with the Nuer rebels instead of taking the UN's mediatory stance when
it transpired she had once been the lover of the rebel 'leader', Riek Machar himself.
'Are you sure you want to do this, Lev?'
I turned to Boston. We were standing on the edge of Adjumani, facing the border -
though there was no road to speak of, only untamed bush. 'I was going to ask you the same
question. You don't have to come with me. It wasn't part of our agreement. You could go
back to Kampala, to Lily and the girls. To Jezu Adonis.'
But Boston only said, 'I would not leave you to it alone!' At first I thought he was
being brotherly and felt almost touched. Then his face broke into one of his wildest grins.
'Without a guide, Levison, you would not even make it to the border.'
We began to walk.
There is no road to Nimule that runs parallel to the Nile so instead we hacked our way
through the bush, following the curve of the river. The Nile widened here, running east for
some miles before tracking north again, and on its banks elephants still roamed. Ordinar-
ily the herds lived in the Nimule National Park on the South Sudanese side of the border,
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