Back to Nairobi: Why Your Workplace Matters More Than You Think

On the morning of August 4, 2026, at exactly 6:30 AM, I left Juba for Nairobi. I finally reached my room at around 8:30 PM on August 5. That was a journey of about 38 hours by road.

It was long, tiring, and full of reminders about how much our environment shapes the work we do.

One reason I left was simple: I needed a better place to think and write. Juba is home in many ways, but the heat can be overwhelming. When you're trying to plan, take notes, or write on a computer, constant sweating becomes more than an inconvenience. Sweat drips onto notebooks, keyboards, and other devices. It interrupts concentration. For a writer, the workplace is not just where work happens. It is part of the work itself.

The journey also reminded me how little many people know about South Sudan. I would say that 99% of the people I meet outside the country still confuse South Sudan with Sudan. They ask me, "How is Sudan?" Some even ask about the Janjaweed.

I honestly don't know what to tell them because I don't live in Sudan.

Yes, South Sudan is geographically south of Sudan, but we are an independent country. We gained our independence on July 9, 2011. Fifteen years later, many people still speak as though we are one country.

There is another narrative I keep hearing. Many people believe South Sudan is simply hell on earth. When they hear that I have arrived safely in Kenya or Uganda, they thank God as though I have escaped from another planet. While South Sudan certainly has serious challenges, reducing an entire nation to one story does not help anyone understand it.

While I was travelling, I also received unexpected news about my academic documents. I was informed that I need to obtain an affidavit because my theology degree bears the name "John Monyjok Maluth," while my passport reads "John Monyjok Maluth Abiel." This is for my degree to be certified so I might use it to apply for further studies outside South Sudan or Africa. I missed most of what we now call formal education as if ours was informal. I mean nursery, pre-school, primary school, and secondary school. But I do have a bachelor's degree in theology from South African Theological Seminary (2010-2012).

That surprised me.

Among the Nuer and the Dinka, we traditionally do not organize names into first names, middle names, and surnames the way many Western systems do. We identify ourselves through genealogy. A person's names often reflect generations of family history. Unfortunately, four names do not always fit neatly into forms, certificates, or academic records that were designed with different naming traditions in mind.

Arriving in Nairobi brought another set of surprises.

Since I had been away for five months, my room had not been occupied. Electricity was still connected, but the water I had left behind had gone bad. Two jerrycans and a large bucket were full of rotten water. Moisture had allowed mold to grow on parts of the ceiling. My bed and bedsheets were damp, stained with white patches, and carried the smell that comes from months of being locked away.

I had already paid for my Wi-Fi service, but the connection still needed a technician. Based on previous experience, that could take a few hours, a few days, or even a few weeks. For now, I am relying on mobile data to stay connected and continue working.

There is still plenty to clean, repair, and organize before life returns to normal. Even so, I am grateful to be back. Every new beginning comes with a little disorder before things settle again.

Now it's time to unpack, restore my workspace, and get back to writing.

The work continues.