01/08/2025
HOW LESS THAN 20 SSPDF TROOPS FOUGHT OFF A WELL PREPARED UPDF AMBUSH IN KAJO KEJI🇸🇸
-- They refused to surrender even when knowing that they were outnumbered with men and artillery
Kajo Keji County, South Sudan — July 2025
In the quiet woodlands of Nyainga-Muda, just along the tense border with Uganda, a story of unparalleled courage unfolded — one that may never be captured in headlines or commemorated in parades, but deserves to be etched into the soul of South Sudan’s national memory.
It was not a defeat, as some in government and media are quick to label it.
It was a stand — deliberate, disciplined, and defiant.
A Sudden Storm
On what began as a routine patrol shift, a small detachment of fewer than 20 South Sudanese border soldiers, armed with nothing more than standard AK-47 rifles and minimal supplies, found themselves in the crosshairs of a massive and unprovoked assault by the Uganda People’s Defence Forces (UPDF). According to field sources, the UPDF rolled in with heavy artillery, armored personnel carriers, and tactical support, launching a coordinated surprise attack under the cover of early morning mist.
Outgunned. Outnumbered. Surrounded.
But not broken.
Duty Over Fear
Rather than retreat or surrender, the SSPDF soldiers did what few expected: they held their ground. With discipline and determination, they returned fire, using knowledge of the terrain, courage, and instinct honed from years of hardship. For hours, they resisted — not to win a battle that was tactically lost from the start, but to send a message:
South Sudan’s soil will not be taken without resistance.
They were not ordered to become martyrs. They simply chose not to be cowards.
Their sacrifice delayed the UPDF’s advance, allowing civilians to flee to safety and alerting military headquarters in Bilpam to mobilize reinforcements. Many of them fell in silence, their names not yet known to the wider public, but their bravery spoken of in hushed reverence by locals and comrades alike.
The Real Enemy: Politics in Uniform
Yet as these heroes lay bloodied in the bush, a new type of battlefield emerged — not one of bullets and maps, but of microphones, hashtags, and hollow outrage.
Suddenly, politicians, many of whom have never shouldered a rifle or stood post in the rain, rushed to make statements. To posture. To blame.
They criticized the army from air-conditioned offices.
They measured military strategy against political gain.
They forgot that sacrifice has no press release.
This Is the Army, Not Parliament
The soldiers in Kajo Keji didn't have talking points. They had rifles.
They didn’t wear suits. They wore scars.
They didn’t seek applause. They gave their lives.
Their oath wasn’t to a political party. It was to South Sudan.
Let this stand as a reminder:
War is not a trending topic.
The army is not your campaign podium.
The border is not for bargaining.
To those in government who now use this tragedy to polish political portfolios:
You dishonor the fallen.
You were not there. You do not get to write the ending.
The Story Isn’t Over
Kajo Keji remains tense. Civilians remain displaced. And Uganda’s intentions, according to insiders, may go beyond mere border scuffles — with land, timber, and resources at stake. But if one thing is clear, it's this:
South Sudanese soldiers may bleed — but they do not break.
Not in the face of artillery. Not in the shadow of betrayal.
And if the government won’t stand behind them, the people surely will.
Written in honor of the brave sons of South Sudan who stood when others would have run.
Their silence echoes louder than any speech.
Agel R. Machar
