Poni in pink

Poni invited me to lunch at her compound a short walk away and she made a feast of posho, fish, okra and greens. It nearly didn't happen as she called me early to say a neighbour had died in the night and I might feel uncomfortable with a funeral taking place next door. We went ahead and because it was an old woman who had died, there was calm and gentle ululating rather than the loud mourning and wailing that accompanies funerals for people who have died young.

I waited at our compound gate with Doris the security guard to be collected by Poni's Ugandan friend Irene. Irene filled me in on the old lady as we walked: 'she had reached the end. She was too old'.

I purchased some soft drinks from Robin, a shopkeeper on a dusty side street, who said 'British is the best. Manchester United. And Israel' and 'Arab is all bad, all are terrorists'.

Along we trotted in burning 37 degree heat as Irene told me about her bar job, currently unavailable as a shooting had taken place there between drunks the previous week. Poni had already relayed this neighbourhood news yesterday. And she told me about the persistent bag snatcher who loiters near her home targeting women young and old. His strategy is apparently to be arrested as the prison system is supported by the UN, so being convicted of a crime is a way of getting three square meals.

Here is Poni bright in pink with her youngest daughter Kate. Yesterday Kate was diagnosed with malaria and she's underweight, so she was crotchety. A baby half her age was heavier, being babysat from next door's funeral. He did not know what to do about the scary white man over for lunch.

It's easy in Juba to be frightened of being in public but as Irene escorted me back to our compound we took a detour around the market. Kharwajas are rarely seen there so there was a great deal of staring and I was pleased we didn't attract the attention of any police or military personnel, just in case it had led to any unsavoury moments.