Stand still and die.
In 1991 I was a young press photographer working for Associated Press. I was sent into South Sudan to cover the war in the south. At the time conditions were thought to be hard, though no one really knew what was going on in the remote and poorly understood country. After a tiny aid plane left me in Nasir, a remote town in the south east I walked toward Ethiopia - there being no cars, no gas, no money and most of all no food anywhere. I had a hunch that the instability in Ethiopia would have reprocussions in the border area. I walked with two Nuer tribesmen along the Sobat, a branch of the White Nile. The hauntingly empty landscape was remote but beautiful. We would sleep on the ground, under a shade tree and start our walking with the rising sun. As we slowly moved east we woke one day to a sound that was a little like that of a football crowd. That day, instead of the empty flat land with scrub bushes and ant hills the only landmark, we were greeted with the sight of a