How chiefs restore justice the traditional way, despite absence of courts in Jonglei

By Matik Kueth

In a country where court buildings are few and government judges even fewer, South Sudan’s traditional justice system stands as a living institution of peace.

Long before written laws and state courts appeared, disputes were settled under trees, guided not by written codes but by elders’ wisdom, truth-telling, and the desire to keep families united.

Across villages and counties, from Jonglei State to Unity State, these ancestral courts continue to fill the gaps left by weak state institutions.

The authority of chiefs carries both moral and social weight, maintaining order in communities where formal governance often stops at the county headquarters.

In an interview with King Media on Monday, Garang Agany, Head Chief of Duk County, Jonglei State, explained how they used to solve problems in the area.

He said the people of Duk have long relied on traditional courts for justice, which are based on custom, consensus, and communal trust.

“Our courts were here long before modern government and we have been solving our problems here under trees. When people fight over land, cattle, or marriage, we sit them down, listen to both sides, and reconcile them, so that they don’t harm themselves. That is how we are restoring peace in this area,” he said.

Garang, who has served the Duk paramount court for five years now, noted that his work often begins when formal law ends.

But limited access to government judges, poor roads, and the absence of police in many villages make customary courts the most accessible form of justice for thousands.

“Sometimes the government courts are far from the villages, and people cannot afford to travel. We do our best with fairness and honesty so that people trust us. When a chief loses respect, peace in the community also loses its way,” he stated.

Another respected elder, Malual Gatbel, Uror County’s paramount chief, shed light on how they have been solving disputes in Nyadiet Payam.

He stressed that the traditional courts helped prevent revenge killings that once tore apart clans.

“We have been solving feuds here in Nyadiet because many young men are troublesome and cause problems. A lot of disputes between clans have been solved here. You know, these young people with guns don’t listen. So, that’s why we’ve been advising them to live in peace rather than hating each other,” he emphasized.

“Of course, when a killing happens, our duty as chiefs is to stop retaliation by bringing the disputing clans together. And after that, blood compensation takes place from both sides,” he stated.

According to Gatbel, traditional justice is not just about resolving disputes; it is about reinforcing moral discipline.

He pointed out that customary courts teach respect for elders, integrity, and responsibility, values that are vital for post-conflict recovery.

“When people come before us, they don’t just seek judgment; they seek reconciliation. We make sure that both sides walk away as brothers again. That is the spirit of our justice, fairness, and wisdom,” he noted.

The people’s courts of trust

For many rural citizens, the authority of chiefs is built not on force, but on respect earned through wisdom, impartiality, and deep community ties.

Customary courts, often held in open air under trees or in thatched meeting huts, are accessible, affordable, and community-driven.

Unlike formal courts, which require legal fees or travel to distant towns, customary courts are accessible and familiar.

Every decision carries not just the authority of the chief but the collective moral weight of the community elders who sit beside them.

People’s stories

For the people of Jonglei and Unity, these local systems are not relics; they are lifelines.

Mayol Akon Dau, a farmer from Duk, recalled how a dispute over farmland nearly destroyed the bond between his family and a neighbor.

“We were almost fighting! But when we went to Chief Garang’s court, he listened to both of us without taking any side. He made us share the land in a way that was fair. Today we farm side by side, and our children play together again,” he stated.

Meanwhile, Gatjang Biel, a cattle herder in Uror, described how the local chiefs intervened in a dispute over stolen cattle by a man from their rival clan.

He alleged that the man stole the cattle while grazing on the outskirts of the kraal in the evening and was later spotted by some boys as he chased them towards the Greater Pibor Administrative Area (GPAA).

“Well, the chief of our area has really done good things in preventing conflicts. He actually helped recover our cattle that were stolen by a man from a rival clan after speaking with them. When I first heard that our cattle had been stolen, and some boys who saw the man taking them told us what happened, I wanted to take revenge,” he admitted.

“But the chief called us together with the man’s family and told us there was no need to fight. He asked the man’s family to return the cattle, and they did. That’s why we’re now living peacefully here,” he explained.

For Biel, traditional justice systems embody the moral compass of the community, where peace is not imposed but nurtured through dialogue and forgiveness.

Bridging custom and state

Despite their efforts, customary courts face growing challenges, as chiefs often serve without pay or formal training, and their rulings sometimes conflict with statutory law, especially in cases involving women’s rights or property ownership.

However, some county authorities in Jonglei and Unity now engage with chiefs before implementing verdicts or referring complex cases to them for mediation, crafting an evolving cooperation that blends modern governance with ancestral wisdom.

“This story is reported with a grant from Journalists for Human Rights under the ‘Tackling Mis/Disinformation Project,’ funded by the Peace and Stabilization Program of the Government of Canada.”