South Sudanese Community Battles Climate Change Flooding

Standing in waist-deep water, Ayen Deng Duot uses a machete to break up the thick roots of a papyrus plant and throws the pieces onto a spongy mix of plants and clay soil. This human-made shore, once compacted and sun-dried, will expand the island where the South Sudanese mother of six stays with her family.

The Akuak community of about two thousand people has been using this technique of layering plants and mud to build islands for generations in this swampy area along the Nile River, according to their chief.

Increased flooding driven by climate change in recent years has made the islands harder to maintain, with community members spending hours each day dredging up material by hand to keep water from encroaching.

South Sudan is experiencing catastrophic flooding for the sixth year in a row. Over three hundred seventy-five thousand people were displaced by flooding in the East African nation this year, according to the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs.

The country also remains politically unstable after years of conflict. The Norwegian Foreign Policy Institute notes in a March 2025 paper that seasonal flooding has gotten worse and less predictable in South Sudan.

Whereas floodwaters have historically receded during the November to January dry season, years of consecutive and record-breaking flooding have permanently changed the landscape. The Akuak families support themselves through fishing.

They only go to town to sell their fish or in case of medical emergencies. Bor, the state capital, is twenty-five kilometers to the south, a five-hour rowing journey. They have stayed even when many others have moved to cities because of the flooding.

Matuor Mabior Ajith, an Akuak fisherman, states, 'This is the land of our ancestors. We have been living here for thousands of generations, so we have learned how to resist the water and how to stay in this environment.

We will never abandon our land.' The Akuak once kept cattle like other Dinka communities but stopped in the late 1980s due to rising water levels. Chief Makech Kuol Kuany expresses, 'This life has forced all of us to become fishermen.

We are poorer now than before!' Anyeth Manyang, forty-five, works on expanding his island's shore, taking deep breaths as he dives for mud. He learned this work from childhood. Duot believes that it is better for her children to stay on the island, as they may become child laborers or gang members if they move to Bor.

She says, 'It's better for them to stay here, and for us to work hard for them, until we die here.'