Documentation alone does not deliver justice.
In Addis Ababa this week, a UN human rights official quietly pressed the African Union to transform South Sudan's newly signed transitional justice laws into living institutions — a reminder that signatures on paper and justice in practice are separated by an enormous human distance. South Sudan's decade of war has left tens of thousands dead and millions displaced, and the country's recent establishment of a Truth Commission and Reparation Authority represents a formal acknowledgment that survivors deserve more than the mere cessation of violence. Yet the most critical mechanism — a Hybrid Court to prosecute those most responsible — remains unbuilt, and the domestic justice system remains unequipped, leaving the gap between law and accountability as wide as ever. This moment asks whether the international community's sustained investment in South Sudan's peace will finally produce institutions capable of answering to the people who suffered most.
- South Sudan's peace process has stalled repeatedly, and a two-year extension of the 2018 agreement has deepened doubts about whether its leadership is genuinely committed to transition or simply managing delay.
- Two landmark laws — creating a Truth, Reconciliation and Healing Commission and a Reparation Authority — were signed just before the UN visit, raising hopes while exposing how much institutional infrastructure still does not exist.
- The Hybrid Court for South Sudan, the mechanism designed to prosecute the gravest crimes, remains entirely unestablished, leaving perpetrators and survivors in the same unresolved limbo.
- The African Union finds itself caught between its role as peace guarantor and its reluctance to press member states too hard on accountability, a tension that quietly shapes every diplomatic conversation this week.
- Survivors — scattered across refugee camps, displacement sites, and cities where their perpetrators live freely — risk being sidelined by the very institutional processes that claim to center their needs.
- The UN official's five days in Addis Ababa amount to a sustained, measured pressure campaign: a reminder that the AU's own credibility is bound to whether South Sudan's justice mechanisms are ever actually built.
Barney Afako arrived in Addis Ababa this week on a focused mission: to persuade the African Union that South Sudan's transitional justice process must move from formal commitment to functioning reality. As a member of the UN Commission on Human Rights in South Sudan, he is spending five days meeting with AU leadership, regional diplomats, and civil society — a coordinated effort to sustain momentum on accountability in a country where it has stalled repeatedly.
The visit follows a significant development: President Salva Kiir recently signed two long-pending laws establishing a Commission for Truth, Reconciliation and Healing and a Reparation Authority. These represent a formal acknowledgment that the victims of South Sudan's conflict — a war that has killed tens of thousands and displaced millions since 2013 — need more than security. They need recognition, explanation, and material support. But the laws alone are not enough, and everyone involved knows it.
The most glaring absence remains the Hybrid Court for South Sudan, designed to prosecute those most responsible for the worst crimes. It does not yet exist. Nor does a domestic criminal justice system capable of handling complex human rights cases. Meanwhile, South Sudan's government extended its 2018 peace agreement by another two years in September — a move that raised immediate questions about whether the transition is progressing or simply being deferred.
The AU's position is paradoxical. It has been indispensable in keeping the peace process alive, providing diplomatic weight and financial resources that smaller actors cannot. Yet its member states remain reluctant to push too hard on accountability, wary of setting precedents that might unsettle their own governments. This tension runs beneath every conversation Afako is having this week.
What distinguishes this moment is the stated commitment to survivor-centered justice — ensuring that those who lived through the violence shape the process meant to address it. In practice, this is enormously difficult. Survivors are dispersed across refugee camps, displacement sites, and cities where perpetrators still move freely. Reaching them and genuinely incorporating their voices requires resources and political will that South Sudan's government has not consistently provided.
Afako's visit is a quiet pressure campaign — not a public shaming, but a firm reminder that the AU's credibility is inseparable from whether these mechanisms are ever actually built. The Hybrid Court must be established. Domestic courts must be strengthened. Victims must be heard. Whether South Sudan's leadership and its international partners can align on that remains the open and urgent question.
Barney Afako arrived in Addis Ababa this week with a specific mission: to convince the African Union that South Sudan's fragile peace process depends on making its transitional justice mechanisms actually work. Afako, who serves on the United Nations Commission on Human Rights in South Sudan, is spending five days meeting with AU leadership, regional diplomats, and civil society groups—a coordinated push to keep momentum on accountability and reconciliation in a country where both have stalled repeatedly.
The timing matters. Just days before Afako's visit, South Sudan's President Salva Kiir signed two laws that had been pending for months: one establishing a Commission for Truth, Reconciliation and Healing, the other creating a Reparation Authority. On paper, these are significant. They represent a formal commitment to address the documented human rights violations that have marked South Sudan's conflict—a war that has killed tens of thousands and displaced millions since 2013. The laws acknowledge that victims and survivors need more than security; they need acknowledgment, explanation, and material support to rebuild.
But the laws alone are not enough, and everyone involved knows it. In September, South Sudan's government extended the 2018 peace agreement by another two years, a move that raised immediate questions about whether the country's leadership is genuinely committed to completing its political transition or simply buying time. The AU and the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) have been the guarantors of that agreement, providing the political cover and diplomatic pressure that keeps the process from collapsing entirely. Without them, South Sudan's peace would have fractured long ago.
During his visit, Afako will present findings from the UN Commission's investigations into South Sudan's human rights record and its progress—or lack thereof—in meeting its obligations to its own people. The Commission has been documenting violations, tracking perpetrators, and building the evidentiary foundation that any future accountability mechanism will need. But documentation alone does not deliver justice. The most glaring gap remains the Hybrid Court for South Sudan, a mechanism designed to prosecute those most responsible for the worst crimes. It does not yet exist. Neither does a functioning domestic criminal justice system capable of handling complex human rights cases. These are not abstract institutional problems; they are the difference between accountability and impunity.
The AU's role in all of this is paradoxical. The organization has been essential in keeping South Sudan's peace process alive, providing both the diplomatic weight and the financial resources that smaller nations cannot muster alone. The AU's Peace and Security Council has repeatedly intervened when the process threatened to collapse. Yet the AU also operates within constraints—member states are reluctant to push too hard on accountability, fearing it might destabilize their own governments or alienate allies. This tension runs through every conversation Afako will have this week.
What makes this moment distinct is the emphasis on survivor-centered approaches. The new laws and the ongoing investigations are supposed to center the voices and needs of those who lived through the violence, not just the institutional machinery of justice. That is harder than it sounds. Survivors are scattered across refugee camps in neighboring countries, internally displaced within South Sudan, or trying to rebuild in cities where their perpetrators still walk free. Reaching them, hearing them, and ensuring their needs shape the transitional justice process requires sustained commitment and resources that South Sudan's government has not consistently provided.
Afako's five days in Addis Ababa are a pressure campaign, but a quiet one. He is not there to shame South Sudan publicly or to demand immediate action on an impossible timeline. He is there to remind the AU that its credibility depends on following through—that the political accompaniment and financial support it has provided will only matter if they lead to actual mechanisms that deliver actual accountability. The Hybrid Court needs to be built. Domestic courts need to be strengthened. Victims need to be heard. These are not competing goals; they are the same goal approached from different angles. Whether South Sudan's leadership and its international partners can align on that remains the open question.
Notable Quotes
The African Union plays a pivotal role in supporting South Sudan's peace process by providing both political accompaniment and mobilizing financial and technical support.— Source material on AU's role
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does the African Union matter so much here? South Sudan has its own government.
The AU is the guarantor of the peace agreement itself. Without AU pressure and presence, the agreement would have collapsed years ago. South Sudan's government alone doesn't have the credibility or the leverage to keep all the parties at the table.
So this is about external pressure keeping a fragile peace from breaking.
Partly. But it's also about resources and legitimacy. The AU can mobilize money, technical expertise, and diplomatic cover that South Sudan needs. And when the AU says something matters, regional governments listen.
The laws Kiir just signed—are those real progress or just theater?
They're real in the sense that they create legal structures that didn't exist before. But structures are only as good as the will to implement them. The Hybrid Court still doesn't exist. Domestic courts still can't handle these cases. The laws are necessary but not sufficient.
What happens if the AU stops showing up?
The peace agreement becomes a piece of paper. The parties go back to fighting, or they settle into a frozen conflict where nothing changes. Victims get no justice, no reparations, no acknowledgment. The cycle repeats.
Is Afako optimistic about this?
He's there because he has to be. The UN Commission has documented the violations. The evidence exists. But documentation without accountability is just a record of failure. He's pushing the AU to make sure that doesn't happen.
What would success look like in five years?
A functioning Hybrid Court prosecuting major cases. Domestic courts handling mid-level perpetrators. Survivors receiving reparations and having their stories heard. A peace that actually holds because people believe justice is possible.