When the announcement is first made that the Shilluk king is on his way back to his kingdom in Fashoda, and that a courtesy call is being planned, at first, it’s just “another” story. As the day draws nigh and the excitement levels heighten, suddenly it’s all too real. This is as close as some of us will ever come to royalty.
We hold a couple of meetings to be trained on how to behave and what to expect; on what is acceptable and what could be interpreted as absolutely unbecoming conduct.
“The king decides who speaks and when. He also can express his disenchantment by refusing to speak at all. You do not interrupt the king. You do not take pictures. When he is done, he will permit you to speak – and allow you to take pictures,” says Civil Affairs officer Sarah Joshua Nyilek who, today, is doubling up as our Shilluk royal expert.
For the mixed lot of high-climbing international civil servants, the words “bow” and “no eye contact” elicit facial expressions of different kinds. In the end however, everyone gets into shape, rolls up their formal sleeves and gets ready to meet the king.
Being a first trip to the kingdom, the helicopter drops us off more than five kilometers away. We are soon surrounded by excited locals eager to escort us to our destination. The walk in the sweltering sun kills all the pizzazz and anticipation that we had brought with us.
Eventually a panoramic view of neatly thatched tukuls (traditional huts) is visible up ahead. Adjacent to them stands a huge tree and beneath it, surrounded by his subjects and armed guards, sits King Kongo Dak Padiet, the 35th King of the Shilluk – a Nilotic Luo tribe based in South Sudan.
We approach him, guided by our go-between, the Deputy Governor of Fashoda. At his signal, we remove our shoes, shedding off all our ranks, titles and accolades, and sit on the ground with our heads slightly bowed. He politely protests the gesture and asks us to take seats instead.
After the initial political and humanitarian engagement on both sides, the ice is broken. Discussions become lighter with the jovial king making off-the-cuff remarks and light jokes. He speaks fondly about his 9-year stint as a banker before he took up the throne. His knowledge of people, dates and events is unmatched.
Eventually, protocols no longer apply as the excited group now bring out phones and cameras for pictorial evidence of their brush with royalty.
He would eventually dismiss us with a quick and friendly “Are we done?” and offer us his vehicles for the return trip to the chopper landing site, as he walks off to his residence.
And so, concludes the first of many encounters with the Shilluk king.