In the complex tapestry of global geopolitics, South Sudan remains a stark reminder of how the intersection of climate change, economic instability, and protracted conflict creates a "perfect storm" that disproportionately devastates the lives of women and girls. Seven years have passed since the signing of the Revitalised Agreement on the Resolution of the Conflict in the Republic of South Sudan (R-ARCSS), yet the promise of a peaceful, inclusive democracy remains frustratingly out of reach. As the international community begins to show signs of donor fatigue and the United Nations faces increasing pressure to justify its mandates and resource allocations, the voices of those on the frontlines—the women of South Sudan—are rising in a desperate plea for continued engagement.
The reality on the ground is a harrowing one. South Sudan currently grapples with some of the highest rates of gender-based violence (GBV) in the region. Recent data indicates that a staggering 2.7 million people are at immediate risk of such violence. In 2024 alone, the United Nations Mission in South Sudan (UNMISS) documented 260 harrowing cases of conflict-related sexual violence. These figures are not merely statistics; they represent individual lives shattered by rape, gang rape, sexual slavery, forced abortions, and forced marriages. The state of Western Equatoria has emerged as a particularly grim epicenter for these atrocities, highlighting the geographical pockets where lawlessness and impunity still reign supreme.
The drivers of this violence are as multifaceted as they are systemic. Forced displacement, which primarily uproots women and children, strips away traditional protection mechanisms and leaves them exposed to predators. Meanwhile, the worsening climate crisis has led to acute resource scarcity. As grazing lands disappear and water sources dry up, livelihood pressures intensify, fueling ethnic tensions and driving intercommunal violence. In border areas, where state presence is often minimal, these pressures manifest as a direct increase in vulnerability to gender-based violence, turning the search for basic survival into a lethal gamble.
For the younger generation, the impacts of this instability are sharply gendered, creating a bifurcated cycle of trauma. Young women and girls are frequently viewed as commodities, often forced into early marriages to secure dowries for their struggling families or falling victim to sexual violence in the chaos of displacement. Conversely, young men and boys face a different kind of coercion; they are often enticed or forcibly conscripted into armed groups, where they are told that violence is the only viable means of survival in a broken economy.
Despite this well-documented fragility, the United Nations finds itself in a precarious position. At a time when the work of UN Women, UNFPA, and UNMISS is more critical than ever, their mandates are being scrutinized, and vital resources are being withdrawn. This disinvestment is occurring just as displaced populations are becoming more dependent on the UN for the most basic of human needs: shelter, potable water, and life-saving food supplies. Beyond these physical necessities, women and girls rely on the "blue helmets" for protection patrols that allow them to gather firewood or water without the constant fear of assault. They look to UN partnerships to provide safe houses and psychological support, and they depend on the UN to amplify their demands for a seat at the negotiating table.
To understand why this presence is non-negotiable, one need only look at a recent incident in Warrap State. Only months ago, a group of armed youth, seeking retribution for a cattle raid, surrounded a girls’ boarding school. One hundred schoolgirls were trapped inside, terrified of the abductions and violence that seemed inevitable. In many parts of the world, such a scenario would end in tragedy. However, UN peacekeepers intervened, utilizing their training to de-escalate the situation and eventually free the girls. For those 100 students, the presence of the UN was not an abstract geopolitical debate; it was the difference between a future and a nightmare. To these girls, the idea that the resources behind their rescuers could be in question is utterly incomprehensible.
In such a volatile environment, the withdrawal of international capacity is, at best, imprudent. At worst, it is catastrophic. History has shown that when the international community retreats, it is the women who shoulder the resulting burdens. They are the first responders on the frontlines of every crisis, the primary caregivers for their families, and the silent sustainers of their communities. They are the ones who must navigate the wreckage of disinvestment while facing a barrage of economic and conflict-related threats.
The political timeline of South Sudan further complicates this picture. The seven years since the peace agreement have been marked by significant delays. National elections have been repeatedly pushed back, and constitutional reforms intended to safeguard the rights of citizens—including essential protections for gender equality—remain behind schedule. The unification of the country’s armed forces is incomplete, and the robust legal frameworks and social protection systems promised years ago have yet to be realized.
Nowhere is this lack of progress more evident than in the realm of women’s leadership. It is deeply regrettable that the second National Action Plan on Women, Peace, and Security, a comprehensive roadmap developed over eighteen months ago, still sits awaiting official approval. The 35 percent gender quota, which was agreed upon to ensure women have a voice in the country’s future, remains a theoretical goal rather than a lived reality.
The current leadership landscape is starkly male-dominated. All ten of South Sudan’s state governors are men. Only 20 percent of deputy governors are women, and women hold a mere 18 percent of judicial positions. In the Nairobi peace talks, a critical forum for the nation’s future, only two of the eighteen delegates were women. Furthermore, the monitors responsible for overseeing ceasefires are overwhelmingly male. While there are signs of hope—such as the fact that two Vice-Presidents are women and 40 percent of the Political Parties Council is female—these must be the foundation for broader change, not the exception. The 35 percent quota must be extended immediately to the Cabinet, the National and State Parliaments, the Council of States, and the National Elections Commission.
The irony of this exclusion is that at the grassroots level, women are already the most effective peacebuilders. Across the country, women are forging local peace agreements between ethnic groups, resolving complex land and grazing disputes between farmers and herders, and intervening to stop the cycle of cattle raiding. They are even working to collect small weapons from the hands of young men. These women are not just victims of conflict; they are the most proven pathway to sustainable peace.
This is why the international community, and the UN Security Council in particular, must maintain its support for gender-focused initiatives in South Sudan. Budgetary negotiations must be viewed through a gendered lens, recognizing that a cut in funding is not just a line item on a spreadsheet—it is the closure of a health clinic, the shuttering of a nutrition site, or the loss of a safe house for a survivor of violence. These cuts have already begun to jeopardize the vital work of local women’s organizations that focus on social cohesion and peacebuilding.
However difficult the political and economic circumstances may be, the commitment to the women of South Sudan must remain unwavering. Organizations like UN Women continue to work alongside the African Union and IGAD because they recognize a fundamental truth: the people of South Sudan, particularly its women and girls, have waited long enough for the security and dignity they were promised.
International humanitarian and human rights laws must be upheld, but beyond legal obligations, there is a moral imperative. Throughout years of conflict, the women of South Sudan have been as resolute as they have been inspirational. They have modeled courage and leadership at the grassroots level, proving that when women lead, communities stabilize. If the ultimate goal for South Sudan is a peaceful and prosperous future, then there can be no higher priority than investing in its women. They are the architects of the peace that the nation so desperately seeks, and they deserve a world that stands with them, rather than one that turns away.
