Honouring the Fallen Heroes: South Sudan’s Martyrs’ Day and the Legacy of Sacrifice

By Daniel Abuoi Jook Alith, Sydney, Australia

Wednesday, 30th July 2025 (PW) — Martyrs’ Day in South Sudan, observed each year on the 30th of July, represents one of the most sacred and emotionally charged days on the national calendar. It is a solemn occasion marked not only by remembrance and reflection but by the recognition of immense human sacrifice that laid the foundation for South Sudan’s independence. It is a day that forces the nation to confront its past, honour its fallen, and reaffirm its responsibility to live up to the ideals for which so many laid down their lives. At the heart of this commemorative day lies the tragic death of Dr. John Garang De Mabior, the founding leader of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A), who perished in a helicopter crash on July 30, 2005, just months after the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement. Yet, beyond Garang’s towering legacy, Martyrs’ Day is a moment to reflect on the contributions and sacrifices of countless other heroes and heroines many of whom remain uncelebrated in official discourse and public memory.

The struggle for South Sudan’s liberation, spanning over five decades, was not driven by a single man or a small group of elites. It was a collective and multifaceted movement fuelled by the dreams and sacrifices of ordinary men and women, soldiers and civilians, intellectuals and peasants, each determined to end decades of marginalization, oppression, and violence under successive Sudanese regimes. From the 1955 Torit Mutiny through the Anya-Nya resistance and the SPLM/A revolution beginning in 1983, the liberation journey was littered with bloodshed, displacement, loss, and suffering. It is therefore essential that Martyrs’ Day becomes more than a symbolic ritual; it must evolve into a national moment of truth-telling, inclusive remembrance, and moral accountability.

Among those remembered most prominently on Martyrs’ Day is Dr. John Garang himself. A highly educated economist and former Sudanese army officer, Garang became the face of the SPLM/A movement. His vision for a united and restructured Sudan the “New Sudan” inspired many and gave intellectual and ideological direction to what had largely been a military resistance. Garang’s death in 2005 was met with grief and suspicion across the region, and to this day, his name is synonymous with hope, leadership, and visionary resistance. Yet, it is vital to recognize that Garang did not act alone. His leadership was shaped and supported by a constellation of influential figures who also gave their lives in service of freedom.

Justice Martin Majier Gai was one such figure. As a legal scholar and constitutional mind, Justice Majier provided the SPLM with critical political and legal strategies during key phases of the movement. His assassination under still-unclear circumstances remains a dark stain on the liberation story, yet his contributions to the legal and organizational strength of the SPLM remain underappreciated in most national conversations. Another key figure was Commander Gabino Kuanyin Bol, a name etched in history for firing the first shot in the Bor Mutiny in May 1983, an act that catalysed the full-scale uprising against Khartoum. Commander Gabino’s legacy is that of bravery and audacity. His defiance signalled to Sudan’s rulers that southern soldiers would no longer serve a system that viewed them as second-class citizens. Commanders such as Arok Thon Arok and William Nyuon Bany were instrumental in organizing and leading the SPLA’s early military operations, laying the groundwork for the structured resistance movement that would follow.

Despite these acknowledged martyrs, the reality remains that the national memory of South Sudan’s liberation is still disturbingly selective. Thousands of courageous individuals, who fought and died in anonymity, remain unrecognized in state functions, education systems, and public monuments. Their stories, when told, are often passed orally within families and communities’ fragments of memory that risk being forgotten with time. These are the forgotten martyrs, whose blood, sweat, and sacrifice were no less significant than those of the high command.

One such figure is Captain Majier Ayom Alith, who was killed in 1990 in an ambush along the Yei–Lanya Road a notorious route during the liberation war, known for being riddled with landmines and enemy traps. Captain Ayom was part of a unit attempting to establish a forward base in the region, an effort that would ultimately cost him and many others their lives. Yet, his name seldom appears in national programs or memorials. His death is emblematic of the countless officers and foot soldiers who perished in remote and difficult terrains far from media attention and leadership eyes.

Similarly, the story of 1st Lieutenant Chol Wel Alith deserves to be lifted into the nation’s consciousness. In 1986, during a fierce engagement at Goi, Chol and his unit faced off against overwhelming Sudanese government forces, locally dubbed “Achara Alip” a reference to an estimated ten thousand strong battalion. The odds were starkly against them, yet Lieutenant Chol and his comrades held their positions with unwavering courage. He was killed in the line of duty, defending the liberation ideals with no guarantee of survival, no promise of fame. These are the faces of martyrdom the country must strive to remember.

Another brave and often overlooked commander who deserves national recognition is Commander Madut Ring. He was killed in 1997 in Gogrial, a region that witnessed intense conflict during the later years of the liberation struggle. Cdr Madut was known for his operational discipline, strong leadership, and deep connection with the local population. His assassination sent shockwaves through his battalion and the surrounding communities, cutting short the life of a seasoned field commander whose presence on the battlefield inspired loyalty and resolve. His legacy lives on not through state ceremonies or official honours, but in the memories of those who served under him and the civilians who experienced firsthand his dedication to the cause.

Also deserving of tribute is the first Lieutenant Wilson Magot Deng Nyang, who was killed in 1987 at Nyinthar Malual, during a violent confrontation with Sudanese government troops. Lieutenant Wilson was one of the highly educated officers, a graduate of Khartoum university in the faculty of arts in languages, entrusted with commanding frontline troops in a region marked by high military activity and strategic importance. His death was a blow not only to his comrades in the field but also to his home community, which had sent many of its youth to fight in the liberation war. His memory continues to be honoured within his clan and among the remnants of his former unit, but like many others, his name has not received the national recognition it deserves. Lieutenant Wilson represents the generation of promising educated officers whose potential was cut short by war, leaving behind stories of valour that must be safeguarded as part of South Sudan’s national heritage.

These stories of Cdr Madut Ring, Lieutenant Wilson Magot Deng, Capt. Majier Ayom Alith, Lieutenant Chol Wel Alith, and many others remind the nation that martyrdom was not the reserve of the high command alone. Martyrdom was a reality for every commander and foot soldier who fell in the swamps of Malakal, the hills of Eastern Equatoria, and the Palins of Bahr el Ghazal. Their sacrifice formed the bedrock of independence and demands to be honoured with truth and justice.

The battle of Kapoeta in 1994 presents yet another painful memory. In this operation, the SPLA aimed to capture the strategic town of Kapoeta from government control, but the assault failed despite the extraordinary Vallor exhibited by the attacking forces. Among those who fell were Commander Majok Mach Aluong, Commander Anyar Apiu, Captain Luong Deng, and Captains Ayuen Thiong and Ayuen Maluk Kuer. Their deaths in the hills and valleys of Eastern Equatoria remind the nation that liberation was won not through celebratory victory alone, but through bitter losses, failed operations, and the relentless courage of soldiers who died without witnessing independence.

The process of memorialization in South Sudan must therefore become more inclusive and historically accurate. A nation that selectively remembers its martyrs’ risks distorting its history and dividing its future. For Martyrs’ Day to fulfil its true purpose, it must serve not merely as a commemoration of individual figures but as a recognition of collective suffering and sacrifice. The dead deserve dignity in memory. The living especially the families of martyrs deserve recognition, support, and justice.

The failure to properly remember these forgotten fighters has broader implications for nation-building. South Sudan continues to grapple with cycles of violence, political division, and ethnic tension. A shared national memory that includes all communities and regions is essential for reconciliation and unity. This memory must be woven through national education curricula, public media programming, cultural festivals, and governmental policy. Schools across the country should teach not only about the life of Dr. John Garang, but also the experiences of ordinary SPLA soldiers, the women who carried food and water to the front lines, the youth of the Red Army, and the civilians who provided shelter to fighters.

There is also a moral responsibility toward the families of the fallen. Many widows, orphans, and parents of martyrs still live in poverty, with minimal state support and little public acknowledgment of their loved ones’ contributions. Martyrs’ Day must therefore be accompanied by policies that provide for these families. Pension schemes for dependents of fallen soldiers, scholarships for their children, and priority in employment opportunities are not luxuries they are the rightful dividends of liberation. Commemorative rituals are incomplete without socioeconomic justice.

It is also important to acknowledge the psychological legacy of martyrdom. War leaves scars not only on the battlefield but within the hearts and minds of survivors. For many families, Martyrs’ Day is a day of mourning, a painful reminder of the lives cut short, and the futures lost. Providing spaces for storytelling, grief processing, and intergenerational healing must be part of the day’s programming. These could include community storytelling circles, religious services, and memorial walks in local towns and villages.

Furthermore, the role of local communities in preserving the memory of martyrs cannot be overstated. In many cases, the names and stories of fallen fighters have survived only through community oral traditions, local grave markers, and family testimonies. The government and civil society should support community-based history projects that document the contributions of local heroes. Museums, memorial parks, and digital archives could serve as platforms where these stories are preserved and shared with future generations.

The task of remembering must also extend to the role of women in the liberation struggle. While Martyrs’ Day typically centres on male commanders and fighters, countless women served as soldiers, medics, informants, and supporters. Many died in silence, unarmed but defiant in their resistance. Their sacrifice demands equal recognition and respect. An inclusive Martyrs’ Day should highlight stories of heroines who perished during displacement, died delivering supplies to the front lines, or were executed for supporting the SPLA.

As South Sudan continues to rebuild its nationhood, it must do so anchored in historical truth and moral clarity. Martyrs’ Day must not be allowed to become a perfunctory event a mere date marked by speeches and military parades. It should be a day of national introspection, a reckoning with the unfinished promises of the liberation movement, and a recommitment to the founding ideals of justice, freedom, and dignity.

To honour the fallen is to live up to their dream of a peaceful, united, and prosperous South Sudan. That means ending the wars that continue to tear communities apart. It means confronting corruption and political tribalism that dishonour the blood that was shed for liberation. It means giving voice to every citizen, regardless of ethnicity, gender, or status, and ensuring that no family of a martyr goes unnoticed or unsupported.

On this Martyrs’ Day, as flags fly at half-mast and candles are lit in memory of the dead, the people of South Sudan must ask themselves not only who we remember, but how we remember, and why. The nation owes a profound debt to its martyrs both celebrated and forgotten. Let that debt be repaid not just in words, but in action, justice, and remembrance that is honest, inclusive, and enduring.

May the souls of our martyrs’ rest in eternal peace. May their legacy guide us toward a more unified and compassionate South Sudan. May we never forget their names and if we do not yet know them, may we strive to learn, honour, and preserve their stories for generations to come.

The Author, Abuoi Jook Alith, is a Social Scientist and Urban Planner, and can be reached at his email address: dejook025@gmail.com.

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