In the heart of Warrap State, a terrifying scene unfolded just a few months ago that serves as a microcosm for the precarious reality of life in South Sudan. A group of armed youth, fueled by the volatile cycle of revenge following a cattle raid, descended upon a girls’ boarding school. Inside, one hundred schoolgirls were trapped, the air thick with the terror of imminent abduction or worse. For these students, the threat was not abstract; it was a looming nightmare consistent with the lived experience of thousands of women and girls across the country. The situation was only diffused when United Nations peacekeepers intervened, employing a blend of de-escalation tactics and physical presence to secure the girls’ safety. To those one hundred students, the presence of those peacekeepers was the difference between a future and a tragedy. Yet, as the international community debates the future of mandates and the allocation of resources, the very mechanisms that saved those girls are being called into question.
The crisis in South Sudan remains one of the most stark examples of how conflict and instability are profoundly gendered. As is the case in nearly every global theatre of war, women and girls are the primary targets of the most brutal forms of violence and the first to suffer the consequences of systemic collapse. Today, South Sudan grapples with some of the highest rates of gender-based violence (GBV) in the region. Recent data from the United Nations Mission in South Sudan (UNMISS) paints a harrowing picture: in 2024 alone, 260 cases of conflict-related sexual violence were documented. These are not merely statistics; they represent individual lives shattered by rape, gang rape, sexual slavery, forced abortions, and forced marriages. The highest concentration of these atrocities has been recorded in Western Equatoria State, though the shadow of violence stretches across the entire nation.
The vulnerability of women is exacerbated by a "perfect storm" of intersecting crises. Forced displacement has uprooted millions, leaving women and children exposed to predators while they navigate the perils of internal migration. Resource scarcity, driven by the relentless pressures of climate change and economic instability, has heightened ethnic tensions. As grazing lands shrink and water becomes scarce, intercommunal violence—often manifesting as cattle raids—surges. In these border areas, the breakdown of social order leads directly to increased vulnerability to GBV. For the youth of South Sudan, the impacts are bifurcated by gender: while young men and boys are often coerced or enticed into joining armed groups as a desperate means of survival, young women and girls are traded like commodities in forced marriages or subjected to sexual violence as a tactic of war.
Despite this documented reality of fragility, the United Nations’ operations in South Sudan are facing an unprecedented period of pressure. At a time when the work of the UN is more critical than ever, mandates are being scrutinized and vital resources are being withdrawn. This disinvestment is not merely a bureaucratic adjustment; it is a retreat that carries a heavy human cost. Displaced women and girls rely on the UN for the most basic of necessities—shelter, clean water, and food. They depend on protection patrols to walk to markets or collect firewood without the fear of assault. They rely on the specialized partnerships between UN Women and the UNFPA to provide medical and psychological support for survivors of violence. Furthermore, they look to the United Nations to amplify their voices, ensuring they have a seat at the table in peace processes that will determine their country’s future.
The political landscape offers little comfort. It has been seven years since the signing of the Revitalized Agreement on the Resolution of the Conflict in South Sudan (R-ARCSS), yet the promises of that accord remain largely unfulfilled. Elections have been repeatedly delayed, and the unification of military forces remains incomplete. Critical constitutional reforms intended to safeguard the rights of citizens—specifically those regarding gender equality—are significantly behind schedule. Legal frameworks, social protection systems, and mechanisms for transitional justice exist more on paper than in practice.
Nowhere is this stagnation more evident than in the realm of women’s leadership. The second National Action Plan on Women, Peace and Security was developed over eighteen months ago, yet it remains stalled, awaiting official approval. The 35 percent gender quota, a transformative tool intended to ensure women’s participation in governance, has yet to be realized. The statistics are a sobering reminder of the patriarchal grip on power: all ten of the country’s governors are male, and only 20 percent of deputy governors are female. In the judiciary, women hold a mere 18 percent of positions. Even in the Nairobi peace talks, a crucial forum for the nation’s future, only two of the eighteen delegates were women. While there are glimpses of progress—such as the fact that two Vice-Presidents are women and 40 percent of the Political Parties Council is female—these must serve as the foundation for a much broader inclusion. The 35 percent quota must be extended immediately to the Cabinet, the National and State Parliaments, the Council of States, the National Elections Commission, and the Constitutional Review Committee.
The irony of this exclusion is that women are often the most effective peacemakers at the grassroots level. Across South Sudan, women are the ones forging local peace agreements between warring ethnic groups. They are the ones resolving land and grazing conflicts between farmers and herders, intervening to halt cattle raids, and working to disarm the youth in their communities. They are the first responders on the frontlines of every crisis, the primary caregivers for their families, and the sustainers of their local economies. Their leadership is not a luxury; it is a prerequisite for sustainable peace. There is no proven pathway to conflict resolution that does not involve the meaningful inclusion of women.
The international community must recognize that withdrawal of support at this juncture is, at best, imprudent and, at worst, catastrophic. Budgetary cuts have already begun to take a devastating toll. Health clinics have been shuttered, nutrition treatment sites have closed their doors, and safe houses for survivors of violence have been forced to limit their services. These cuts jeopardize the essential work of women’s organizations that are the backbone of social cohesion in South Sudan. To withdraw support now is to abandon the very people who are doing the most to hold the country together.
Under-Secretary-General Jean-Pierre Lacroix has consistently highlighted that the UN’s presence is a lifeline. The Security Council must maintain its support for the mission in South Sudan, ensuring that gender equality remains a central pillar of its mandate. Negotiations regarding budgets and resolutions must be viewed through a gendered lens, recognizing that every dollar removed from the field is a direct blow to the safety and agency of women.
UN Women, alongside partners like the African Union, IGAD, and UNMISS, remains committed to the pursuit of peace, justice, and stability. This commitment is fueled by the belief that the people of South Sudan—men and women, boys and girls—have waited long enough for the security they were promised. International humanitarian law and human rights law must be upheld, and the resolute, inspirational leadership of South Sudanese women must be met with equal resolve from the global community.
The women of South Sudan have shown incredible courage and conviction, advancing the Women, Peace and Security agenda in the face of overwhelming odds. They model the resilience that the world so often praises but rarely sufficiently funds. If the ultimate ambition for South Sudan is a future that is both peaceful and prosperous, then supporting its women is not just a moral obligation—it is the only viable strategy. They deserve better than the current cycle of violence and disinvestment. We owe them the resources and the political will to ensure their voices are not just heard, but are leading the way.
