Isaac Buay

25/05/2026

25/05/2026

A cargo plane circled above Chuil, Jonglei State of South Sudan before food supplies began falling from the sky. Around the same period, helicopters and small planes moved in and out carrying essential supplies as different organisations rushed to position materials before the rains made access even more difficult.

From a distance, children stood watching the aircrafts, pointing toward the drop zone as sacks descended into the open swampy field below. Even from where they stood, you could feel the excitement.

In parts of South Sudan where roads become inaccessible and communities are cut off by conflict and flooding, aid sometimes arrives this way.

21/05/2026

Fangak County, South Sudan.

Education here continues in the simplest spaces possible. Children gather beneath trees for lessons led by community volunteer teachers. No permanent classrooms. No desks. Limited materials. Just shade, heat, dust, voices, and the determination to keep learning despite difficult conditions.

16/05/2026

Happy SPLA Day!
A day that carries memories of sacrifice, resilience, struggle, and the long journey toward self-determination.

For many, it is deeply personal. A reminder of those who gave everything for the dream of a nation. 🇸🇸

13/05/2026

A panoramic moment from the 3rd edition of the Pojulu Cultural Festival in Juba
Music, movement, culture, and community all unfolding in one space.

13/05/2026

Scenes from the 3rd edition of the Pojulu Cultural Festival 2026 in Juba.

The festival brought together music, dance, performance, storytelling, and communities from across South Sudan in a space that felt vibrant, loud, expressive, and deeply alive.

What interested me most was not only the performances, but the atmosphere around them, the movement, the fashion, the energy of the crowd, the expressions between moments, and the way people occupied the space.

If you attended the festival, what stood out for you most?

Here are a few frames I documented from the festival.

11/05/2026

Moments from Chuil, Jonglei State, South Sudan.

What I witnessed there was displacement, uncertainty, tension, exhaustion, but also remarkable resilience.

Families arriving with almost nothing. Communities adapting to repeated cycles of violence and displacement. And despite everything, people still finding ways to continue.

At times, even a palm tree becomes shelter. Not ideal, but enough for people to rest beneath after long journeys. And somehow, in the middle of exhaustion and uncertainty, there were still moments of laughter and smiles.

Access remains difficult in many areas, with movement often depending on boats through swamps and flooded terrain.

As a visual storyteller, being a witness means carrying stories that are not yours and trying to tell them with honesty and care.

Chuil stayed with me.

04/04/2026

Yesterday, on Good Friday, thousands of Catholic faithful filled the streets of Juba in a powerful joint procession.
Through the reenactment of the Way of the Cross, worshippers walked in reflection of the suffering and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, a moment carried in silence, prayer, and shared faith.

But beyond remembrance, the procession became something more. A collective voice. A quiet but urgent call for peace in a country that continues to endure hardship.

Hot in Juba

19/03/2026

In the past weeks I met families living under trees, children being treated for malnutrition, and people who walked for days after fleeing violence in Jonglei and Upper Nile State, South Sudan.

Many had already been displaced before, but they told me this time felt harder, like there was nothing left to return to.

These are difficult stories to tell, but they need to be heard.

Sharing the article and some moments from the field.

https://www.msf.org/displaced-people-northeastern-south-sudan-need-urgent-support

Médecins Sans Frontières/MSF South Sudan Hot in Juba

After escaping violent attacks in Jonglei and Upper Nile states, South Sudan, thousands of people are surviving outdoors with little food, water, or medical care.

02/03/2026

Last year around this time, I was in Zurmi, Zamfara State, about 546km north of Abuja, Nigeria.
Zurmi is largely agricultural. Nearly half of the population depends on farming. But years of insecurity and armed banditry have disrupted livelihoods and forced many families from their land.

I spent time in a boarding school that had become a shelter for Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs). Today, the school is still functioning but differently. It has been converted into a day school due to ongoing insecurity. One part of the compound is alive with students immersed in lessons. Another part, the dormitories house families who fled armed attacks. Classrooms and displacement exist side by side.

Many of the displaced families were farmers. They spoke of cultivating beans, millet, vegetables. When attacks happened, the bandits took the valuable harvest. What was often left behind was corn. Now corn is survival. One meal, prepared in different forms. Eaten repeatedly. Spiced with whatever natural ingredients are available. Molded into cubes, dried in the sun, preserved for later, or sold for small income.

Food reduced to repetition. Space divided between education and emergency and communities adjusting to a “temporary” reality that has lasted far too long.

These images are from Zurmi, where resilience and disruption share the same walls.