Book review: Till The Sun Grows Cold by Maggie McCune

Till the Sun Grows Cold is a memoir by Maggie McCune. Maggie, a British national was born and raised in India. In this book, she blends her story with that of her daughter Emma McCune in what is an epic tale of love and war.

Emma McCune was the second wife of Dr Riek Machar, the South-Sudanese politician, former SPLA commander, former South Sudan VP and the current boss of SPLA-Nasir. Politics aside, Emma and Machar’s love story is truly beautiful, which is what the book is largely about.

Though ultimately a tragedy, one that saw pregnant Emma die in a road accident at the crossroads of Gatanga and James Gichuru roads in Nairobi on November 24th 1993, in what is believed to have been an assassination (by forces loyal to John Garang out of a vendetta against Dr Machar), this is one of the most honest and well-written memoirs by a non-author that I’ve ever read. The sentences are distinctly poetic and lucid.

Emma McCune was an Oxford University graduate and humanitarian. She had been working in the war torn country many years before meeting Dr Machar.

In addition to being smart, she was vibrant, a risk-taker and a young woman with a big heart who fell in love these (mostly) tall, ebony-complexioned people of South Sudan the minute she set foot on their land. She provided relief supplies to Bashir’s war victims. Bashir was targeting and killing the people of the South and its guerilla leaders, John Garang and Dr Riek Machar of the Dinka and Nuer tribes respectively weren’t taking it lying down. His frequent air raids and every-which-way gunshots soon became a lifestyle. In addition to this terrifying Baghdad-style-landscape, Emma had to deal with the hostile weather too! Heh!

During a peace meeting in Nairobi, Emma came face to face with the elusive Dr Machar whom she had been trying to get a hold of for months. After the meeting, she confronted him about the rubble of despair that he and his cronies were leaving in the wake of their quest for power and this would be the beginning of their love story. Like they say, the rest is history.

After dumping her then fiancé (Willy), willy-nilly she moved in with Machar shortly after. (Willy had driven Emma all the way from Nairobi to the middle of this vast, swampy, bullet-scampering, hot jungle deep inside Sudan where Machar lived and let them have some alone time. On the way back to Nairobi, Emma confesses to him that she is in love with the war lord. Poor soul! Stomaching Emma’s words as they drove back to Nairobi! Understandably, the anguished young fellow abandoned her at the Kenya-Sudan border to figure her way back to Nairobi.)

Emma and Machar’s home was a cluster of huts, a typical ancient African village, surrounded by armed soldiers 24/7. Shortly after, the couple sealed their union in a local PCEA church one rainy afternoon. Emma trekked shoeless for kilometres to the church after her car got stuck in the middle of nowhere and in her muddied and body clenching wet white (turned brown) wedding gown, she strode off to marry the love of her life. To me, this is the epitome of true love and if it isn’t, someone better sit me down and explain to me what love really is.

While Machar’s first wife and kids lounged in the safety net of London, Emma was at home by his side, her small suitcase always packed under the bed. 

Back in England, her friends would write to her, “Emma, what is it like being married to a war lord?” her response? “Well, I’ve never been married to a tax accountant or a lawyer. I don’t know anything else.”

 

Her mother is inspired by her daughter’s diary and her own recollection of events to piece together this dashing memoir. She meshes her daughter’s life with the lives of the South Sudanese, most of whom had long despaired from starvation, disease and the loss of their sons to the war as child soldiers. All they waited for death to come take them home. This was especially after Garang and Machar fell out. It was one thing for Al Bashir to attack them, but for their leaders (Garang and Machar) to clash? Unfathomable!

It’s needless to say that Emma’s marriage to Machar cost her her job. She had clearly chosen sides. Having made her bed, she inevitably slept on it (literally and otherwise).

Informally though, she lobbied for education and healthcare aid for that country from other humanitarian organizations till her death, unfortunately, at the tender age of 28.

What I took away from this book besides true love, was her spirit of resilience and the desire to stand for what she believed in. I also learnt that the Pandora’s Box of Africa, has fingerprints of some selfish Western forces all over it; turning factions against each other and leaving hapless citizens excruciated. And for these self-acclaimed black "messiahs" -- whose greed and ambition lead them to play right into the hands of such forces -- it is not always about “our people”. The current civil war in South Sudan is proof that the everyday African has learnt very little or nothing, at all, from the past. And while I don’t necessarily believe that these “messiahs” should be shot by sunrise, I think it’s time that we Africans re-vetted them. And as for the AU, well, their interest in this matter is just as these "messiahs' ".

Even as we grapple with our own set of challenges as a nation, let’s remember that our neighbour South Sudan has barely left the ground. Her wellbeing is ours, just as her misery is.

Till the Sun Grows Cold gives us a coup d’oeil into the journey of this young nation. Besides being an excellent page-turner, the book is thoughtful and entertaining and sometimes funny. Long after you’re done reading, it begs you “read me again”! I highly recommend it to anyone interested in African politics, anthropology, history, or just a feel-good-story.

It will also introduce you to other side of this highly controversial figure at the centre of South Sudanese politics -- Dr Riek Machar.

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