(JUBA) – South Sudanese politics has given us many things. Reshuffles that come faster than boda boda tyres wear out, officials who treat criticism like witchcraft, and now, the latest episode featuring Ambassador Lily Adhieu Martin Manyiel Ayuel vs. broadcaster Ajak Deng Chiengkou.
South Sudanese politics has always been a theatre. Public officials expect applause but never questions.
It began harmlessly enough. Ajak, an award winning South Sudanese Australian journalist, simply noted that during Ateny Wek Ateny’s time as press secretary, the presidency felt closer to the people. Ateny, with his colourful shirts and even more colourful mouth, at least kept the lines open. In contrast, Lily’s short stint had left a communication gap as wide as the potholes on Juba’s airport road.
Ajak even softened his blow with humour, comparing it to realising the bus you complained about yesterday at least moved faster than the one you are on today. This was not an assassination attempt, just a gentle nudge. But in South Sudanese politics, nudges are treated like grenade attacks.
“Correct me if I am wrong,” Ajak wrote, “but I interviewed Ateny more than fifteen times. The openness vanished under Lily’s tenure, just as it did when Aguer Panyang left Bilpam.”
It was an observation, not a witch hunt. But in South Sudan, even polite criticism is treated like treason.
Lily entered with the ferocity of a mother hyena defending her cubs and lashed back.
“Leave my name out of your pseudo-analysis!”
Her point? That Ajak was exaggerating his closeness with Ateny by bragging about fifteen interviews.
But Ajak, calm as a boda rider cruising with no helmet, responded like a teacher lecturing a stubborn pupil. He reminded her that criticism comes with the territory. If President Kiir can take decades of cowboy hat jokes and whispers about UAE hospital trips without exploding, surely an ambassador can survive one Facebook comment.
He also schooled her on journalism and identity, noting proudly that he broadcasts in Dinka. Calling it “just a dialect,” he argued, is like saying Kiswahili is just slang. It misses the cultural weight entirely.
“Trump speaks English, Putin speaks Russian, Xi speaks Mandarin, so why should I be ashamed of Dinka?”
It was a sobering moment, but Lily was not ready to leave the stage.
Instead, she doubled down, declaring that Ajak was “not Jeff Koinange, not Christiane Amanpour, not Anderson Cooper.”
Translation: if you have not made it to CNN or Sky News, you have no right to criticise. That logic, of course, would mean 95% of the world’s journalists should keep quiet and let leaders run wild. It is the classic South Sudanese defence.
“You are not big enough to criticise me.”
Then came the high horse accusations. Lily accused Ajak of being pretentious, bullying and riding his horse too high. Ironically, her own response had more drama than a wedding reception when the bride’s family finds out the dowry cows were borrowed.
Facts on the ground are more entertaining than Lily’s life on Facebook. Salva Kiir had already shuffled her out of the Press Secretary’s chair back in February 2025, making her ambassador to Ethiopia. Two months later, she was ambassador to Qatar.
Her career trajectory has been hopscotch, today Addis Ababa, tomorrow Doha. Hers is what typical South Sudanese public service looks like with Kiir holding the whistle.
At the core of the dispute lies a simple truth. Public service invites public scrutiny. To serve in the presidency is to become part of the nation’s history, open to both praise and criticism. Pretending otherwise is like demanding to sit at the table while forbidding anyone to ask what is on the plate.
Ajak summed it up best: “If you do not want to be mentioned, then avoid public office.”
But Lily’s final word was a threat: “I don’t start it, but I will finish it.” It sounded less like diplomacy and more like a street brawl declaration from Customs Market.
The real tragedy is that this spat was not about personalities at all. Ajak’s original point was that communication matters. During crises like 2013, voices like Ateny, Makuei and Aguer Panyang gave the people information. Today, we are left with silence (on Palestinians in South Sudan for example) or worse, Facebook rants from “ambassadors”.
This is the state of South Sudanese leadership in 2025. Diplomats don’t negotiate peace in conference halls but wage Facebook wars in the comment section. Perhaps the UAE can build us not only hospitals, but also therapy centres for our national allergy to criticism.
This saga is not just about one diplomat’s wounded pride. It reflects South Sudan’s wider allergy to accountability. Many officials often mistake their temporary seats for crowns, treating feedback as insult and criticism as personal sabotage.
Lily Manyiel’s outburst says more about our public officials than Ajak Deng’s revelations. She represents public officials who treat feedback as attacks, and who still believe South Sudanese citizens owe leaders silence in exchange for their service.
When the Ambassador decided to clap back at journalist Ajak Deng, she must have thought she was ending the conversation. Instead, she lit a bonfire, and every villager in the digital square came running with their own log to throw in.
If there is one thing South Sudanese never lack, it is opinions. Suddenly everyone turned into a political analyst:
Atem Deng Atem (Top Fan)
“Ambassador Lily owes YOU an apology, not the other way round. You’re documenting history. Meanwhile, she’s chasing respect like a chicken running after spilled sorghum and never quite catching it.”
Gai Deng Gai:
“I thought Lil Adhieu knew what she was doing. Turns out, she’s like a student who brags about passing exams but hides the report card. Kumbo… hmmmmm 🤦🏽♂️.”
Kingspin Spin:
“She exposed herself yesterday. If she can’t interpret one paragraph, how did she manage J1? These are the very people making Kiir look like a man trying to herd goats with a stick of spaghetti.”
Makuach-Aruony Kuei:
“Let’s be honest. Without her father’s SPLA credentials, she wouldn’t even be the tea girl at the presidency. South Sudan runs on surnames, not CVs.”
Mangok Green:
“Brother Ajak, you roasted her. 🔥 Next time add some salt and pepper so at least it tastes good.”
Anyarroor Anyarcien :
“Public servants come in many animal forms: hyena, goat, fox, pig. Lily just proved she’s not the lioness she thought she was — more like a goat straying into the lion’s den.”
Matoto Lueth:
“And a so called ‘program presenter in a dialect’ just outwitted ‘Her Excellency.’ That’s like a boda-boda overtaking a Land Cruiser stuck in the mud.”
Sultan Bol Mario:
“She doesn’t know you’re sixty times better than her. A bad leader is like a spoiled calabash — no matter how you polish it, the sour taste remains.”
Yol Garang Juowei :
“If she doesn’t want to be mentioned, she should resign. Public office means you belong to the people, not your ego. Simple.”
Achiengkuel Mayom:
“Soon she’ll go live crying on Facebook. She’s not an ambassador by qualification — just an emotional tourist in government. She needs her husband to calm her down, not Kiir to promote her.”
Mangor A. Thiak:
“Anyone in public office must face scrutiny. If you can’t handle criticism, then maybe your zone is a beauty salon, not the presidency.”
Lordbrain Bol:
“This is the best response ever: If you don’t want criticism, avoid public office. Period. Someone should carve it on a signboard and hang it at J1.”
Ajak Diing Deng:
“Where’s Tearz Ayuen? We need him to add chilli powder to this comedy show. This is gold.”
Disclaimer
This is satire. If you find yourself offended, you may already be allergic to criticism. Please seek help before opening Facebook.