The Olympics where everyone's a winner

AS the Antonov aircraft flies overhead, all eyes are raised to the sky. During recent famines, relief agencies have used planes like this to bring food aid. These days, the Sudanese government uses them to drop bombs.

More than 6,000 people are gathered in the county of Twic, southern Sudan, to take part in a unique sporting event - the ambitiously named Twic Olympics. In a region where people rarely travel for purposes other than conflict, having this many people in one place is a rare and appealing target to a government wanting to inflict civilian casualties.

The aircraft's low drone is barely audible, but it has already been identified and people are looking uneasy. "Don't worry," says a friendly bystander, squinting at the sky. "At the moment it's too high to drop anything, but if you hear a change in the engine noise then it means it's turned round and is coming back, so you'll need to hide."

Hide where? The land is flat, barren and dusty as far as the eye can see. The only immediate options are one of six mud huts or "tukuls" in the compound or under one of the few bushes - even these have thorns. Fortunately, the same noise continues until the plane has shrunk to a dot in the sky. Breathing resumes. This is a good day.

Life here is lived on a day-to-day basis with little free time; fun is not a word in the vocabulary of most young people. This is why Acuil Banggol, director of SUPRAID, a Christian Aid-funded organisation, has organised the Twic Olympics for the second year running. Acuil grins widely as he says: "This is an amazing thing. The games are first and foremost to give young people an opportunity to exercise their right to leisure, a luxury most have not enjoyed since they were born. For the majority, life has been one continuous struggle for survival."

Since independence in 1956, Sudan has only had one decade free from civil war. The country is divided between the central government based in Khartoum and armed opposition movements. Much of the fighting takes place in the south, which is rich in resources. Twic County lies on the border between government-controlled areas and those held by the SPLM/A (Sudan People's Liberation Movement/Army) and is home to thousands of people displaced during the fighting. The area is also ravaged by the slave trade, which has been established for centuries.

Aguek Athie was 11 years old when she was abducted by a government-backed militia during a raid on her village, Mapier. "It was impossible to escape. I hid in some bushes, but they saw me and told me to come out or they would kill me." Aguek inhales deeply at the memory. "I thought I was going to die, but they tied my hands together and made me walk for five days to Fula, a village in the North."

After a moment composing herself, Aguek continues: "I was kept as a slave there. I had to work all day and late into the night for a family. If I didn't do my chores, I was beaten."

Now 15, Aguek was one of the lucky few who managed to escape and return to her family. "I was terrified," she recalls. "I knew if they caught me leaving in the night, they would kill me." She pulls on the red and white beads around her neck at the thought. These surely should not be the childhood memories of a 15-year-old.

Sadly, far too many children in southern Sudan have memories like this. Many have lost family members. Most are unable to go to school. The economy is so devastated that basic services in the south are mostly provided by humanitarian agencies.

But for the Twic Olympics, more than 6,000 people from six districts or "payams" might never have come together, some for the first time, to compete in sport. Aguek has walked for more than two days in the dusty heat to play volleyball. She has never played sport before. "I didn't know how much I would like it, but it takes my mind off our situation," she says as she smiles for the first time.

As the girls walk proudly onto the volleyball court, they are greeted by cheers from their supporters on the sidelines. None of the girls has shoes, but they seem oblivious to the sharp stones that tear their feet as they begin the game. Many of them have wrapped bandages around them to provide some protection. They have made their own strips, although many of them are wearing trousers or shorts underneath their skirts. "It's because we don't have any underwear," explains Riak Bul, one of the players. "The boys will tease us if we fall over unless we wear trousers underneath."

Against tough opposition, Aguek's team loses 3-0. Even as the crowd erupts and lifts the winners into the air, Aguek can be seen shaking hands and congratulating the victors. This kind of good sportsmanship rarely has an opportunity to be shown.

Until recently, fighting was also taking place on a local level. People forced to seek refuge in neighbouring communities when villages, crops and cattle were destroyed, added to local conflict. In a country where resources are few and famines common, the burden of looking after extra people was a pressure some people in communities were not willing to take on. Fertile grazing ground is scarce, leading to rivalry, and people are naturally wary. The result can be farmers living in virtual isolation from one another.

Now children can be seen making friends across communities. "I want to take home new people in my heart," says Aguek. "Each year we need more people to come and get involved so people can get to know each other more," Aguek shouts this over her shoulder as she is carried off by a swarm of people to begin celebrations. It is evident there are no hard feelings.

"It's much more challenging to be defeated in the field of sports than in battle," reasons Deng Akok, another volleyball player. "In sports you all have equal chances and competition is fair."

It is rare enough to see children playing and celebrating together in Sudan. To see them doing this with young people who not so long ago they might have rejected or even killed is a moving sight.

Nyandeng Malek, programme officer for SUPRAID agrees. "For children and youth to focus on something other than war, and to have a chance to play as children is a great thing. They learn how to compete with a person without hating them. They develop a sense of community. Through sports we hope that teamwork and understanding can be developed at a local level, which will give them the strength to address some of the problems of Sudan in a united way."