Above the vast expanse of the East African plains, signs of human life finally come into view. Hardly the congested maelstrom of its neighboring capital cities of Kampala and Nairobi, Juba spreads outwards in moderation, a seemingly sedate outpost along the Nile. As the plane circles, the thatched, pointed roofs of tukuls, mud huts not usually befitting a nation’s capital, appear, dotted among the city’s more robust structures. After touching down, the weary arrivals pile into the stiflingly claustrophobic room that makes up this “international” airport’s baggage terminal and immigration hall. Some are returning home after years away, having left to escape the war and to seek out opportunity in neighboring Uganda and Kenya, or beyond, and anxiously await the reunion beyond these walls with their long-separated families. One man spots a woman outside — most likely his mother — and waves excitedly. She puts her hand to her
