South Sudan

My South Sudan travel summary:

Visited: 2025

Duration of visit: 12 days

Capital city: Juba

Population: 15.5 million (2025)

South Sudan travel blog reading time: 16 minutes

• Tribal dances and celebrations during Christmas in Kapoeta.
• Hundreds of kids, teenagers and adults chasing survival in Nakeke gold fields.
• Unsuccessful search for a decent hotel and wrestlers in Bor.
• Chaotic Juba with busy markets and heavy rickshaw – boda-boda
• Detained at National Security Service office for long interrogation in Terekeka.

When I first visited Sudan in 2005, it was still one country and the largest in Africa at the time. After years of conflict and internal disputes, it eventually split in 2011. South Sudan became an independent nation.

While preparing for my South Sudan travel adventure in 2025, I found very limited information, mostly focused on Juba and Mundari tribe day trip. Most travelers basically paid hundreds of dollars for guided tours just to get a stamp in their passports. I didn’t want to experience South Sudan just superficially, but to explore various tribes and travel using local transport.

Therefore, I chose to travel independently overland from Kenya to Juba, and later exit through Uganda, without fixers or tour guides.

Although there are few landmarks or classic places to visit, I expected exciting things to do.

I entered South Sudan from Kenya at the remote Nakodok border post. The paved road ended immediately after Kenyan immigration, clearly marking the change in development between both countries.

The border formalities were simple, since I had arranged an eVisa in advance. I exchanged my last Kenyan shillings for South Sudanese pounds, surprised that the largest note equaled just 0.20 USD.

Our experienced driver skillfully navigated rough gravel roads and bypassed other vehicles stuck in deep mud. After another 2.5 hours, we reached Kapoeta, the regional capital.

He dropped me at a cheap, but clean hotel with basic facilities. I showered and fell asleep soon after the electricity shut off at 10:00pm.

My first day in Kapoeta felt strange, as the market was the only real hub of activity in the town center.

I exchanged 100 USD on the black market and received 550,000 South Sudanese pounds in a Somali shop.

The largest banknote in use was of 1,000 pounds, worth about 0.20 USD. Counting them would have taken forever. I simply trusted the money changer.

I couldn’t pack them in my wallet or pockets. So, I carried bundles of nearly worthless notes in a small backpack, as most of the locals.

Later, I continued to the immigration office, which felt very strange. As I arrived, three policewomen walked out, clearly drunk, saluting me and asking for money for cigarettes.

The buildings were rundown, people wandered around lazily, and many doors had no signs. Someone finally pointed me to the immigration sector, where I encountered two young men playing on their phones.

“Hey, our boss isn’t here, so you can’t do the registration,” they quickly explained.

“He’ll be back next year,” one added laughing.

It was still before Christmas.

“No problem, you go to Torit, where the headquarter is!”

The central market was full of people from nearby villages, busy trade, and constant movement. I noticed that many stalls were owned and run by Kenyan women, so I talked to them for a while. They were very friendly and explained that they could start businesses here with less capital and make higher profits than in Kenya.

Finding a motorbike to visit nearby villages and tribes was much harder, as most drivers wanted to overcharge and lacked knowledge or other details. I believe they haven’t seen many foreigners in town, asking for this kind of services.

After three hours of unsuccessful inquiring, I gave up and had a late lunch at a local Somali restaurant.

Later, an educated man approached me, claiming to be a private business coordinator and the restaurant owner. He took me by motorbike to an unmarked secret service compound to register. The place was without any signs and with infrastructure even worse than at immigration department.

For a moment, I thought it was a scam.

Then a man in a Manchester United T-shirt appeared.

“He is the director of the National Security Service,” my driver introduced him. “He is my friend.”

“Welcome to South Sudan. Show me your permit from the Ministry of Tourism to visit villages and take photos,” he said.

“Here is my passport with an entry stamp and visa, but I don’t have any other permits,” was my simple explanation.

“I haven’t been to Juba yet; I just crossed the border from Kenya.”

We sat for half an hour in the crumbling building, chatting casually, while the largest rat I had ever seen calmly walked by. In the end, we agreed that permits could only be obtained in Juba, which I hadn’t visited yet. I was welcomed to stay in Kapoeta.

“You are free to go anywhere in South Sudan!” an officer assured, when returning my passport.

In the evening, when the heat eased, I went to a bar and again asked around for someone to take me to nearby tribal villages. I eventually met a man who wasn’t a boda driver, but he claimed he could take me the next day. He knew the area well, even mentioning nearby gold mining sites in Nakeke.

Louis picked me up at 8:00am, and we rode a motorbike along a dirt road for about 40 minutes to reach Nakeke. Most bikes on the way were overloaded with goods or carrying four to five passengers.

Reaching the riverbanks was striking, with hundreds of people searching for gold. We first walked through a basic, hectic market filled with passing motorbikes and curious looks at a white visitor.

After descending to the river and surrounding areas, I realized, why Nakeke is a hub for artisanal gold mining.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of people come here with aspiration to survive taking risk and working in hard conditions.

It looked like the whole community tries to search for this precious metal.

Men and young boys use basic traditional tools to dig gravel and bring gold-rich soil to the surface. Some shafts, about 80 centimeters wide, reach depths of up to 25 meters. Young women and girls carry the soil to the Singaita River, where kids and teenagers pan it in muddy water to extract tiny particles of gold.

“Come here and look. Small gold,” some gold diggers were inviting me to approach.

At first, I didn’t know how to behave or what to do. Am I allowed to take photos or not?

“My friend. Take a photo of me and my gold,” a strong adolescent boy called me.

At the beginning I couldn’t spot small particles of gold, but later I noticed them in remains of dark sand and dirty water.

I was shocked to see boys and girls, as young as seven, working there alongside their parents and siblings. It felt especially harsh in a country so rich in minerals, yet with people living in such poverty.

Christmas in South Sudan is not only a religious celebration but also a time for family gatherings, and lively community celebrations. Christmas trees in Kapoeta may be rare, and decorations with lights are not common, since electricity supply is limited.

But traditional dances and colorful attire define the celebration on 25^th of December.

In the morning, I attended church mass. It was actually held twice: first in English and later in the local Toposa language. Each service lasted about two hours, combining preaching, singing, and light dancing.

When the heat eased in the afternoon, celebrations continued on the local football field. Groups from different indigenous tribes (Toposa, Jie, Didinga, and Buya) gathered in circles, dancing, jumping, clapping, and singing without instruments.

Women wore traditional clothing, beautifully adorned with jewelry and decorated bodies or faces. Men are dressed in modern clothes, jeans and T-shirts, with flashy accessories, sunglasses, and stylish shoes. Amid energetic dancing, dust, and a joyful atmosphere, I quickly blended in with the locals. I stood out as the only white person, but many people approached to talk, touch or give a five.

The atmosphere felt intense, unique and deeply authentic.

Christmas celebration in Kapoeta was one of the highlights and the most amazing thing to do in my South Sudan travel adventure.

Due to increased robbery risks on the road from Kapoeta to Juba during the Christmas and New Year holidays, I decided to fly. I reported to the CityLink airline office, a shack-like ruin, at the announced time for boarding – 11:00am.

I waited around for about an hour before three passengers were finally driven to the airstrip. Since no one could find the keys to the airport building, we sat in the shade of a mango, where some kids and old ladies were observing our activities. A group of boys walked along the runway, chasing away goats, cows, and locals to clear it for landing ant take off.

After 30 minutes of playing cards with children, the plane from Juba finally landed.

An hour later, I exchanged the exotic scene at Kapoeta’s airstrip for the larger airport in Juba.

My first impression of Juba was not inspiring. I took a boda straight to the Immigration Office to complete my registration. The wait in a stuffy, humid room lasted almost an hour. I was relieved to finally complete this essential formality, which had been delayed due to the holidays in Kapoeta.

“You are free to go anywhere in South Sudan!” an officer assured, when returning my passport.

“This guy will take you to your hotel. Take care!” was a nice gesture from immigration authorities.

No trace of corruption, so praised for the South Sudanese state institutions.

The capital of South Sudan is a developing city of about one million people, located on the White Nile. It is a colorful mix of tribes, businesspeople, refugees, workers from Uganda and Kenya, and expats.

I didn’t find Juba particularly interesting for sightseeing. There are almost no real places to visit or exciting things to do. The main sights are a sunken ship in the Nile River and the vibrant Konyo Konyo market. I wanted to visit a basketball venue, but because of holidays, only informal training was taking place at the poorly maintained Juba Basketball Stadium.

Trash and plastic bags are everywhere, while constant signaling and shouting in traffic reflects the local culture. Many rickshaws and boda bodas move slowly through the main streets, which are often broken by holes and bumps that reduce traffic speed.

When the drive axle of our vehicle broke in the suburbs of Juba, the three-hour drive on a good paved road turned into a typical five-hour South Sudan travel adventure. We waited two hours in the midday heat for a replacement car, while goats, cows, a drunk policeman, and children entertained us.

I observed many Dinka villages along the road. Mud houses are covered with straw roofs inside a common fence. The driver successfully passed local checkpoints, sometimes paying small bribes to be allowed through.

When we arrived in Bor, finding a hotel became a nightmare. At first, I wanted to stay at Garden Resort Hotel, but it was neglected and the staff showed no interest to host me. A friendly motorbike rider took me around town in search of better options. The next two hotels were full, the third was too far from the center.

I was not willing to pay 100 USD per night for the well-known and very expensive Safari Hotel. Just before dark, we finally reached a small local hotel. For 11 USD, there was no comfort or luxury, but the manager promised that electricity and water would be available soon.

Hungry and tired, I treated myself by grilled tilapia from the Nile at one of the most run-down restaurants on this trip. Despite the poor look, the food was excellent and the owner was very kind. Once again, I realized that sometimes appearances can be misleading.

Bor has become one of the most important fish trading centers in the region. Many small rivers flow into the Nile and provide good fishing grounds for perch and tilapia. Fishermen bring the fish to Bor by canoe and sell them to local dealers.

The main reason for visiting Bor was my hope to see a wrestling competition or at least a training session.

Unfortunately, there was neither during my visit. The best wrestlers had traveled to Uganda, while others were resting during holiday season.

In South Sudan, wrestling is more than a sport, highly respected and valued. It is used to tell stories, keep traditions alive, and strengthen community ties. Wrestling has unique styles and techniques that differ between ethnic groups.

Terekeka is a village on the banks of the Nile River and home to the Mundari tribe. It is certainly the main, and maybe the only real attraction, promoted for mass tourism in South Sudan. Many visitors come to Juba, organize a very expensive two-day trip to Terekeka, visit nearby villages and leave the country.

I went to Terekeka at the end of my South Sudan travel adventure, using local transport from the Custom market in Juba. When I arrived, the minivan driver referred me to a boda rider, who took me to a lodge on the edge of town.

“I want to visit a Mundari village,” I told him.

After a short talk with the lodge owner, George, we agreed that the driver would contact the right people. While I left my luggage and took a shower, the he returned to pick me up.

“Unfortunately, I can’t do anything today because the responsible person is not available. I’ll call you in the evening with more information,” he said before dropping me off in front of a local shop.

A warm soda and a chat with a store owner from Eritrea inspired me to ask others how to visit nearby villages. While walking along the main dusty street of sleepy village, I noticed a group of boys killing time on motorbikes.

“Can you take me to a Mundari village?” I asked them.

“Sure, no problem. What do you want to see?”

I wasn’t sure: “Culture, cattle, village.”

“The cattle are coming back to the village at the sunset. We need to go now. 20,000 SSP to take you there.”

About 4 USD was a fair price.

“Let’s go,” I said, jumped on the back of the motorbike, and we soon followed a dirt road on the edge of Terekeka.

Every kilometer there were fewer houses, fields of maize and millet, and more isolated homes. As we spotted a herd of cows the driver turned off the road, riding through fields and tall grass.

We stopped at a small settlement of four huts, where a woman was grinding maize to prepare dinner. She sent two of her sons to guide us to the place where the cattle would gather and stay for the night.

At the open shelter, there were piles of dried cow dung, slowly smoking to keep annoying flies away. Goats arrived first, and the boys tied them to wooden posts while the young animals fed from their mothers.

Soon after, large cows with long horns began to arrive. They are a well-known symbol of South Sudan and the Mundari people. I watched the skilled boys control the animals, waving my hands to chase away the flies.

A tall woman walked past and was happy to see me. We exchanged a few words, hugged, and took photos. I ended the very genuine and pleasant meeting as darkness fell and it was time to return to Terekeka.

I appreciated this solo meeting with the Mundari and thought about skipping the organized trip planned for the next day.

As I was getting ready to sleep, the hotel manager knocked on my door.

“The National Security Service wants to talk to you. Come outside.”

Very scared, I got dressed and met two young men in civilian clothes.

“We are from the South Sudan National Security Service. Show us permission from the central NSS office in Juba and from the Ministry of Tourism,” they said.

“I don’t have those permits, only an eVisa, an entry stamp, and a six-month temporary permit from Juba immigration,” was my honest explanation.

“I didn’t know I needed other permits. An immigration officer in Juba told me I could travel anywhere in the country.”

After discussing my case, they decided I was in Terekeka to collect security information without permission. They also said I broke the law by not reporting to their office immediately after arrival.

“Give us your passport and come to our office in the morning. If you visited any villages around Terekeka, you will be jailed,” they warned.

I refused to give them my passport.

With help from the hotel owner over the phone, we agreed that I could stay in the hotel overnight and keep my passport. The NSS officer would pick me up the next morning at 7:30am for the interrogation at their office.

The next morning, I was first taken to the County Office and the Ministry of Tourism, where an NSS representative was also waiting.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” the director asked after I waited half an hour for him to finish the breakfast.

I explained that I was a solo backpacker, visiting new places to learn about cultures, with no bad intentions.

“Because South Sudan is special, I was not well informed about the permits needed from different government offices. I am very sorry and kindly ask to be allowed to return to Juba.”

About 20 minutes later, the director gave approval and allowed me to be taken to the National Security Service office for interrogation. Two men put me into a Land Rover and drove me to a remote, abandoned structure near the river. There were no signs or names on the building.

In the neglected office, two middle-aged men explained everything I had done wrong.

“You are a spy, that is why you travel alone. No one comes here without a group or a guide. You are collecting information about our people. We should put you in prison.”

Hoping they didn’t know that I had visited a nearby village the day before, I spent about three hours trying to prove my good intentions.

“I am interested in basketball and followed the South Sudan national team at the Olympic Games. I liked Manute Bol and Luol Deng, who played successfully in the NBA. In Bor, I wanted to see wrestling, but there was no event,” was my final clarification.

After about an hour, the boss arrived, and we repeated the same discussion again. They claimed I was a spy without permission, while I insisted being innocent. The situation became even more complicated, since the boss did not understand English well and needed translation.

The real reason was clear: they wanted a bribe.

I never showed that I would pay anything and kept saying that I wanted to return to Juba. I would leave South Sudan two days later and cross the border into Uganda.

When they realized I would not change my position, the boss finally excused me for the lack of proper permits and said I was free and welcome in Terekeka. I politely thanked him and confirmed that I would return to Juba immediately.

“Maybe I will come back next year, between 16^th and 19^th January, when the Mundari culture celebration takes place. I will arrange all the permits in Juba beforehand.”

I quickly found a car and joined a driver heading to Juba. John was very talkative and entertaining.

“I have 12 wives and 25 children. I want you to find me wife number 13 from your country.”

But that is another story.

South Sudan is one of the most complicated destinations in Africa. Poor infrastructure, instability, lack of exciting places to visit and interesting things to do are just some of the facts. A young nation has been struggling to survive and avoid serious conflicts between numerous tribes, greedy politicians and unstable neighborhood.

As an experienced and stubborn backpacker, I managed to turn my South Sudan travel adventure into a truly authentic experience. Flexibility, improvisation, and going with the flow helped me connect with local people. They looked at me with surprise, curiosity, and sometimes even fear.

Unfortunately, the frightening encounter with the National Security Service slightly spoiled my positive impressions. Nevertheless, it showed me how difficult it is to travel through South Sudan as an independent backpacker.