In February this year, Kenyan President William Ruto, the chief mediator of the South Sudan peace talks under the Tumaini Initiative, suspended the negotiations, citing a need for delegates to consult on the way forward. The suspension was unsurprising. Talks had all but stalled, with parties hardening their positions or introducing new demands. Though officially "on hold," most observers admit the truth—Tumaini is effectively dead.

This collapse comes at a perilous time for South Sudan. Armed conflict flared in Nasir, a northeastern town predominantly inhabited by the Nuer ethnic group and home to First Vice President Riek Machar. The White Army militia swiftly overran local army barracks, triggering a wave of arrests targeting senior SPLM-IO leaders, including Machar, who remains under house arrest. President Kiir’s faction accuses him of orchestrating the attack—an allegation he denies.

As tensions escalated, President Kiir invited Ugandan troops into Juba to bolster his government’s position. The UPDF’s intervention has been marked by alarming reports of indiscriminate violence, including attacks on civilian infrastructure such as a hospital run by Médecins Sans Frontières. The drums of war are now beating louder across the Greater Upper Nile region, as violent clashes erupt in multiple areas.

Amid the turmoil, the transitional government quietly extended its mandate to 2026, pushing national elections further down the road. For South Sudanese citizens, this extension is yet another delay in a long-promised transition from war to peace, democracy, and stability.

Peace actors know this cycle all too well. South Sudan’s political elite have mastered the art of surviving through perpetual crisis. The country’s governance resembles a car in slow-motion collapse—constantly teetering, never quite hitting rock bottom. And yet, amid the chaos, the greatest suffering continues to fall on ordinary citizens, who remain trapped in a cycle of broken deals, lost hope, and recurring violence.

President Ruto may have been disheartened—understandably so, especially with domestic challenges mounting in Kenya—but this is not the moment to walk away. South Sudan, fragile and volatile, is inching toward a complex, high-risk transition to multiparty elections. This is precisely the time when regional and international support must intensify, not retreat.

Kenya, IGAD, the African Union, and the broader international community must recognize that ending the Tumaini Initiative now would be catastrophic. The peace process must be revived—not just in form, but in substance.

Reviving Tumaini Means Rethinking the Approach

President Ruto must take stock of what went wrong. The initiative was overly reliant on high-level talks and failed to root itself deeply in South Sudanese society. Peace cannot be brokered solely through elite negotiations in hotel conference rooms. Local actors—traditional leaders, community-based organizations, faith groups, and civil society—must be central to the process. These are the people who can keep the peace conversation alive even when formal diplomacy stalls.

Ruto and his mediation team should also adopt a more inclusive, adaptive strategy. This means broader engagement across ethnic and political lines, sustained dialogue even when progress is slow, and a renewed commitment to multilateral coordination with the AU, UN, and key international partners.

Reviving Tumaini requires hope—and action. It demands persistence in the face of resistance, creativity amid stagnation, and moral clarity in a time of political ambiguity. Most of all, it calls for unwavering commitment to the people of South Sudan, who have endured far too much and deserve far better.

Now is not the time to give up.

Revive the Tumaini Talks.

Reignite the hope.