03/11/2025
Tribute—The Essence of Hon. Bona Malwal Madut Ring
About several hours ago, just before evening vespers on Sunday, November 2, 2025, I received one of the saddest pieces of news to hit South Sudan and the great people of Twic Mayardit this year—the passing of the political legend, the Honorable Bona Malwal Madut Ring.
To many South Sudanese, he was simply Uncle Bona—a man who meant different things to different people. Some saw him as a friend, others as a rival, but one thing united them all: a deep respect for his integrity, intellect, and fortitude.
This is not a eulogy, but a tribute to a man larger than life in the psyche of South Sudan and Twic Mayardit—a champion of the downtrodden and a visionary who dedicated his life to the cause of his people. This reflection centers on two points: his legacy, and what the people of Twic Mayardit must do after his passing.
Since his earliest days in journalism and politics, Uncle Bona Malwal championed one issue above all others: the right of the people of South Sudan to self-determination. His commitment to this cause was evident from his role in founding the Southern Front Party alongside Abel Alier, Clement Mboro, Andrew Wieu, and others, as well as through the newspapers he established and edited with unmatched journalistic fervor.
A democrat to the core, Bona often said that he was raised on the belief that “the strong must protect the weak.” Guided by that principle, he befriended people from all walks of life—rich or poor, Dinka or Nuer, Fertit or Murle, politician or ordinary citizen. He never betrayed those principles.
Equally central to Bona’s legacy was his belief in nonviolence. He always held that “the pen is mightier than the sword,” and true to that creed, he never championed violence of any kind. He believed in persuasion, intellect, and the power of ideas.
When he fell out with Dr. John Garang, and Garang’s loyalists used the SPLM/A Today mouthpiece to falsely accuse him of involvement in the death of Deng Nhial, Bona did not retaliate with anger or force. Instead, he opened numerous libel cases in high courts around the world to clear his name and ensure the truth reached the people of Southern Sudan.
That act shook the SPLM/A to its core—so much so that it required the intervention of one of Africa’s great sons, General Ibrahim Babangida of Nigeria, who used his wisdom and influence to mediate their reconciliation and compel the retraction of the false charges. For the first time, Dr. John Garang met his match—not in war, but in moral courage and intellect.
Again and again, Bona went west to open doors for our liberation. It was through his influence and international connections that Dr. Garang himself was later granted special backdoor access to Western partners when the eastern front became untenable.
I first learned of Uncle Bona in 1998 while studying at the Catholic Seminary of Saint Josephine Bakhita Formation Center in Kitale, Kenya, run by the combined Rumbek, El Obeid, and Wau Dioceses. I came across a note in his Sudan Gazette, published in London, stating that any school could write to request free monthly copies. With permission from our Rector, I wrote to him, and soon our student body began receiving those magazines at no cost.
In those pages, I discovered a new narrative of Sudan—one beyond the SPLM/A’s official communication. Through Bona’s writings, we saw a democratic Sudan, a hopeful future, and a possible end to the brutal civil war. I devoured every issue with passion and admiration.
He was a contemporary of my father, the late SPLA Colonel Joseph Kondok Malith, the sole survivor of the 1965 Wau Massacre. Bona had published figures from the government stating that seventy-six people had been killed in that massacre—my father counted among the dead. But, by a miracle, my father later came back to life after surviving three bullet wounds. He escaped, lived to father me, and went on to become an SPLA fighter. In many ways, my father’s survival and Bona’s unrelenting fight for truth and justice were intertwined—a testament to the resilience of that generation of South Sudanese who refused to die, refused to give up, and refused to be silenced.
Later, I learned that Uncle Bona hailed from Twic Mayardit, our own community. Having joined the SPLM/A in 1987 at a young age, I knew that the movement was co-founded by another of our sons, Kerubino Kuanyin Bol, whose leadership inspired many young men of Twic Mayardit to take up arms. Yet, by the time I reached Ethiopia, Kerubino had been imprisoned, and our people were being mistreated within the very movement they had helped build.
In that context, discovering Bona’s voice—a free, unincarcerated son of Twic Mayardit still fighting for our liberation—was like breathing fresh air. Even today, Twic Mayardit remains marginalized within certain political circles, but I digress. Through Bona’s writings, one message was always clear: self-determination was a right, not a privilege.
Within the SPLM, we were told that fighting for a united Sudan was the best path to eventual independence—that through unity, the North would relent. For years, I believed Dr. John Garang was a separatist in disguise, until I recently read former President Moi’s press secretary, Lee Njiru, who recounted Moi’s frustration with Garang’s refusal to focus on Southern liberation.
Bona, on the other hand, was unwavering. To him, self-determination was non-negotiable. And to achieve it, he “went local.”
He built friendships across divides—befriending Arab leaders, religious figures, and world diplomats alike: the late Bishop Max Gassis, Boutros Boutros-Ghali, Sadiq al-Mahdi, Omar al-Bashir, and many others. He also extended a hand to fellow Southerners, including General Salva Kiir Mayardit, encouraging him to focus on enshrining self-determination in writing.
When the Machakos Protocol was signed in 2002, forming the cornerstone of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA), we knew we were finally on the path to freedom. Even Dr. Garang, the supposed separatist in disguise, was reportedly not amused—but Bona’s mission was accomplished.
True to his strategy, Bona “went local” again. He went to Khartoum, where—guided by the lessons of Abel Alier’s Too Many Agreements Dishonored—he worked tirelessly to ensure that our right to self-determination would not meet the same fate. He walked the corridors of power in Khartoum, often misunderstood by Southerners as a sellout, but in truth, he was working from within to safeguard our birthright.
When I met him in New York, he emphasized one timeless lesson: “All politics are local.” He told us to stand by Salva Kiir Mayardit through thick and thin to see South Sudan’s liberation through.
I remember one incident vividly. After we took his advice and chose to support Salva Kiir, a Mony Awan—whom I shall not name—confronted me. He asked why I was wasting my time supporting Kiir, questioning whether Kiir had ever invited me to meet him in New York. He even boasted that Kiir called him privately for political advice. I never revealed that it was Bona Malwal who had urged us to support Kiir; I simply replied that I supported him because he was a loyal patriot. Yet the sting of that conversation stayed with me, and to this day, I avoid J-1 out of fear of being mistaken for a beggar rather than a believer in the cause.
When John Garang’s hostility toward Bona grew, the Twic Mayardit Youth took it upon themselves to bring Bona home and declare him our Community Leader Worldwide. From that moment, he became not only a national statesman but our own illustrious leader.
After he handed the reins of the new nation to its new leaders and retired from politics, Bona still came back whenever things went wrong. In 2013, when the government of President Salva Kiir Mayardit stood accused of committing genocide against the Nuer ethnic community—a grave falsehood—Uncle Bona acted as he always did: through truth and evidence.
He called his fellow journalists and brought them to the small village of Manangueai, near the border between Gogrial West and Twic counties on the road to Wunrok, where a sizeable number of Nuer civilians displaced by the conflict were sheltered. With their own Nuer interpreter, the international journalists were surprised. If President Salva Kiir was killing the Nuer, why were Nuer civilians freely living within his own home state of Warrap?
The displaced Nuer themselves said, in their own words, that they felt safe and secure in Warrap—the homeland of the man accused of genocide—more than they did in their own territory. The false accusation simply collapsed under the weight of the truth.
Many people think Bona was a journalist who became a politician. In reality, Bona was a politician who understood the power of journalism as a weapon for justice and as a voice for the voiceless.
One thing that quietly pained him, however, was the path South Sudan took after independence. Out of love and respect for his brother, President Kiir, he rarely voiced his disappointment publicly—choosing instead to share his concerns in quiet, reflective speeches.
Today, in Turalei, one can still see the fruits of his labor—St. Augustine School and other Catholic institutions—testaments to his lifelong service and vision. If there was ever a Father of Self-Determination, it was Uncle Bona Malwal Madut Ring.
The best way to mourn a great leader is not with words, but with action—by completing what he left unfinished.
Uncle Bona was our leader, not just in South Sudan but across the world. His passing leaves an enormous void in our community. Now is the time for the people of Twic Mayardit to come together—to stop the bickering, to work in unity, and to rebuild the bonds that have frayed.
Our community is under siege, but we are not powerless. As Bona taught us, united we stand, divided we fall.
We mourn not only a national hero but also our beloved community leader. May his legacy guide us forward. May his soul rest in eternal peace.
By Giovanni Awak Joseph Kondok Malith Awak
Juba, South Sudan
United We Stand, Divided We Fall
November 3, 2025
