Dear young South Sudanese feminist,

Ita rija tani. Nhalic ke yin. I hope you stretched your legs. I know Part One and Part Two were not only long but heavy. I need you fresh for this one.

I have told you about some of the difficult parts of this journey, but I don’t want you to leave this letter thinking only about what you will have to survive. Feminism has also given me some of the most beautiful friendships and communities in my life. I have found sisters, comrades, teachers, and women who have held me through different seasons of my life. I stayed the course because of my feminist community. I also don’t want to romanticize it for you. Women or Feminist spaces are made up of people, and people are complicated. We also disappoint and hurt each other.  Sometimes we need to leave spaces we once loved. Sometimes we need to step back for a while, and sometimes we find our way back.

So, for this last conversation, I want to talk to you about the people we find along the way and finding your feminist home.

Feminist movements are made of people

Sometimes you will also be hurt by other feminists. I wish I could tell you that feminist spaces will always feel safe, but they won’t. You may be dismissed by older feminists, excluded from spaces, and encounter competition and ego. Witness feminist identifying women not live up to feminist values in their leadership, or simply be disappointed by feminists you expected more from. While I have experienced those myself, I have also had to accept that I have disappointed or hurt other women along the way too.

Try not to let those experiences convince you that the movement itself is false or divided. We are people before we are a movement, and we will not always get it right. We will disagree, have different priorities because feminist issues are many, have different strategies for how to create change, and get on each other’s nerves. Sometimes online spaces create a binary view of these dynamics and amplify them. Learn to step away from spaces or conversations that you consistently feel are not good for you, but also leave room for honest conversations, accountability, forgiveness, and people doing better. I think we need all of that if we are going to stay in this work together, because it is truly difficult work.

Stay for the long journey

Pay attention to yourself and know when you need to slow down because these online discourses are endless. This is one area I am still growing in. I have had periods when I could give so much of myself to this work, and others when I simply could not. I experienced different seasons that demanded otherwise of me.  I became a mother, and I experienced grief. Sometimes, I am tired, overwhelmed, or need to focus on other parts of my life. I have stepped back from some spaces and returned when I was ready. Some spaces I never returned to.  None of that made me less committed to my feminism.

You will grow, your life will change, and the way you show up in this work will change with it, including your online presence. Things you were certain about at twenty-five may look different at thirty-five, and that is okay. I have changed my mind about things, learned new things, and let go of others. I hope I continue to. Give yourself room for all of that. This work was never meant to be completed by one generation. Do what you can, rest or check out when you need to, and find your way back when you are ready. That is all part of the process.

Build your feminist home

Not every fight is yours. You do not have to respond to every comment or engage in every online anti-feminist argument. I spent far too much of my early years arguing with people who did not deserve even a second of my time online. Spend that energy building instead. Find your people, nurture friendships, build community within South Sudan and beyond its borders. Read African feminist literature; it is fascinating how much you will realize that what you are feeling has already been named. Their work has consistently reminded me that I am not beginning this work from scratch.

There are many ways to contribute to the movement. If all you have is your voice and access to the internet, use it. If you can organize women and girls and build community, do that. If you are a creative, use that, or if you create spaces where other women can breathe and simply exist in joy with one another, never underestimate what that means. You do not need a title, a degree, an organization, or permission to defend your dignity. Find your feminist home, and when you do, help build one for the girls and young women who will come after you.

Thank you for staying with me through this very long letter. Like I said earlier, please know that I haven’t figured it all out. I am still learning, unlearning, and changing my mind. There are things I wish I had known earlier, battles I wish I had walked away from sooner, and parts of myself I wish I had protected better.

But I am also grateful for so much. I am grateful for the women I found along the way, the communities we built, the work that grew out of some of our hardest moments, and the person I became through it all.

As access to the internet and social media continues to grow in South Sudan, many of you will find your way into these spaces. The platforms might change, and you will probably use them in ways my generation has not even imagined yet. I hope you use them to find one another, to speak, organize, learn, document, and build community. But I also hope you always remember that they are only one part of your life. They do not get to decide your worth, how much of yourself you share, or what kind of feminist you should be.

I hope you find your way, make those mistakes, change your mind, and keep learning. And when you learn something that makes the journey a little easier for you, I hope you will pass it on to another younger feminist.

More than anything, I hope something in this letter makes your journey a little less lonely. If it ever gets so dark that you feel pushed to your breaking point, I hope you find your Rosebell. Perhaps that is how we keep building our feminist homes. Someone makes room for us when we need it. We find our people. We stay, leave, return, grow, find our own way, and when we can, we make room for someone else.

With love and solidarity,
Aluel

Artwork by Bonslow Silas