As in many African countries, in South Sudan, there are no ATMs for international withdrawals. When I was working writing reporters about the country, I decided to stay a few more days in the region to interview more people and improve the material I was preparing.
The problem is that I was counting on the money I would receive periodically from Brazil. But when making the remittance, they did not find South Sudan in the banking system. The country simply didn’t exist in the system. At that moment I was isolated. And with three dollars in my pocket.
I asked Syrian and Lebanese friends, whom I met at a kind of registry office for foreigners, about how they received money from abroad. I thought they should know somehow ingeniously strategically since they invested in business there.
The answer was disappointing. “There is no way to have money at this end of the world unless you bring it yourself,” said one of them.
Another friend was clear. “In this hell? Impossible. Go to another country and get the money there. ”
That was the problem, there was not even money to get to the border of the “hell”.
I left in search of a solution, remembering the beginning of the trip and what a friend in Ethiopia said to me: “Let God be with you”.
There would be a solution. He didn’t exactly talk about religion, but about allowing some situations to get out of hand, trusting that everything will turn out well in the end.
At the end of that day, I met the boys again. They ate, smoked, talked, cursed South Sudan. Two of them called me in a corner. “This is for you. We’ll miss you.” And they handed me two 50-dollar bills. The exact amount for reaching the other side of the border, arriving in Uganda, and finally withdrawing money, but with no water or food.
At night, we said goodbye already missing each other. I would leave the next morning. We went to the car. On the way out, another friend greeted me. “We will miss you,” he said, and let a rolled paper slip into my hand. With no light in the whole city, I couldn’t see what it was. When I got in the car, I turned on the flashlight I had in my backpack. It was a 100 dollar bill.
At the front of the house where I stayed in South Sudan, another friend of the same group took me there and got up from the car as soon as we arrived. He gave me a last hug, we greeted each other and he said: “I think they only gave you dollars, you will need this”, and passed some rolled up papers. It was money papers in the local currency.
They were certainly angels. And God was with me.