Anna Adiyo Sebit conducted interviews on behalf of the XCEPT programme with 134 people in seven villages in South Sudan. Topics she discussed with participants ranged from their family histories and current livelihoods to past conflict and trauma. In this blog post, she describes the reality of speaking to people about such difficult topics – from becoming involved in the challenges of their everyday lives to the emotional toll this work can have on researchers – and the lessons she learned along the way.

This research took place in Eastern Equatoria State with the Toposa community. The region has experienced decades of civil war, and violence continues today, often caused by scarcity of resources. Toposa rely on livestock for income, milk, meat, hides, and to pay bride price. But limited water and grazing land mean that in the dry season, men migrate long distances in search of pasture. Food can be scarce and cattle raiding is common.

Caught up in people’s daily lives: the reality of conducting interviews in communities

On the first day that I visited a village in Kapoeta North County, the very first thing to do, as usual, was to see the chief. He was welcoming, and we discussed the research topic briefly. The chief said they have frequent issues with conflict and raiding, which were creating fear and stress within the community. I was glad when he said that he was interested in being interviewed too.

When we were talking with the chief, an old man was sat next to him. After listening to what I was explaining, he said, “Come and interview me, I have a lot to tell you.” He got up, and I followed him to his hut, where we began the introduction part of the process. But after a few minutes, we heard a voice screaming. It was a girl who had collapsed. I rushed over with the old man. She was having a seizure, which continued for about five minutes, and she had bitten her tongue until it bled.

I stood there, not knowing how to help, as the old man looked at me and said, “This is what I wanted to tell you, and see how you can help me. It has been three years since I found this girl from my farm and took her in. I think her family might have abandoned her in the bush.” He asked me, “Do you know where I can take her to get good treatment? The hospital hasn’t got the right medication for her.” I felt helpless and told him, “I wish I could help but I don’t have the answer.”

After a week, the old man visited me where I was staying. He had no phone; he simply asked around and found me. We talked for hours about losing his relatives in the wars and losing his cattle to raids. He told me he hardly sleeps and sometimes cries at night, wondering what wrong he did. I gave him some words of encouragement, but there was little more I could do.

In that same village, on the second day, many women came requesting interviews. Most of them experienced severe hardships in daily life, and some of them spoke to me about very personal topics like forced marriage, widow inheritance and trauma.

I spent a week returning to that particular community. After the interviews, some of the participants asked if I had finished recording and then they would reveal deeper experiences. We would sit together and talk for several hours before I left. One woman said she felt relieved when she talked about her problems with me.

Emotional responses during the interviews: women’s reactions

There were many moments during the interviews when participants became very emotional, especially women. A person’s mood might shift completely when they talked about very traumatic experiences, like seeing the body of a relative killed by enemies in raiding or acts of revenge. Some interviewees would pause before answering, their voices would become quieter and their speech would slow. Others would have tears in their eyes and would look away before they spoke again.

I was mentally prepared for these conversations by Dr Peter Hughes, a psychiatrist, who trained me in Psychological First Aid. This was very helpful both for supporting the interviewee and looking after our own mental health. I used strategies such as taking breaks during interviews and asking participants if it was okay to continue. I also shared my own personal experiences to show empathy.

One woman shared the story of how her brother died during a raid and that they could not bring his body home. She said she was always dreaming about him – terrible dreams where vultures and wild animals gorged on his corpse. I saw tears forming in her eyes. I gave her time, offered her some water from my bottle, and although she initially refused, she later accepted it. I skipped the difficult questions and moved to a less sensitive discussion.

I helped a woman who was in pain after giving birth five days earlier. She had asked to be interviewed, but when her baby was screaming, she couldn’t pick him up because of the pain. I held the baby, offered words of encouragement and shared some of my own experiences. After I had opened up to her, she felt a little better, and we were able to continue talking normally.

Despite having the knowledge and skills to handle stress during interviews, I still felt vulnerable during some discussions. After the fieldwork, I would go home and think about the most painful stories I had heard that day, asking myself, “How can I help?” when I knew I did not have the ability to do so.

Heroism and humiliation: how men cope with traumatic experiences

Throughout the interviews, men often appeared brave and strong when speaking, but I could see stress hidden in their faces and their voices.

I interviewed a man who had served as a soldier in Khartoum during the civil war. As he spoke, he repeatedly took deep breaths and picked up a small stick to draw on the ground. This seemed to be a way of gathering the courage to talk about the pain he had endured. He described how he had been humiliated by a senior officer who took his wife, causing him severe distress. He recounted how he became mentally unwell and how his family rejected him.

In Toposa society, men are not expected to show weakness or emotions, such as crying. Looking vulnerable or defeated can result in insults and mockery. People sometimes even make up songs to make fun of men who are considered weak.

Men therefore try to hide their pain and maintain a strong, heroic reputation within the community. One young man said to me that it was better to risk dying in a raid, because it is the only opportunity for an orphan like him, who has no family inheritance. Another man added that if he dies on the battlefield, his name will live on as a hero and warrior, and people will sing about him during ceremonies for generations.

Some men told me they often turned to alcohol, saying it helped reduce distress. When they were drunk, they could temporarily forget their problems – but they might not recognise when they are in danger. One chief mentioned that when men and youth consume alcohol, their fear of raiding and battle is reduced. They feel brave and courageous and do not think twice because alcohol affects their judgment.

While waiting for the vehicle that would take me back to the office after interviews, I was able to offer words of counselling to a few participants. I discussed the dangers and consequences of alcohol use. Although they understood the risks, many still insisted that it was their best option for coping with trauma, stress, and difficult life circumstances.

How can communities be better supported?

Generally, most people had limited knowledge about mental health and trauma. After interviews, I tried explaining that mental health issues can be linked to stress, alcohol use, and conflict-related trauma. In a conversation with a traditional healer, who described herself as a witch doctor, she explained that she treats people with mental illness or those believed to be cursed through livestock sacrifices and herbal medicine. She said that while some people recover, others relapse and, in some cases, they eventually lose their lives.

Communities need greater awareness of mental health issues. Despite the efforts to provide training and raise awareness about trauma, there is still much more to be done. The community needs facilities that can support people experiencing mental health problems and provide access to appropriate medical care and attention.

The communities are waiting for feedback from this – and other – research. Many people said they had already spent a lot of time speaking to researchers, who had then disappeared. They never returned, the communities never heard their findings, and nothing changed. It was a privilege to speak with participants and learn from them – and I hope that we can do better follow-up. Even if that is simply by explaining to participants how their information has been used, and disseminating findings to them.

The UK and South Sudan research teams, together with local and regional stakeholders, are discussing ways to approach feedback and dissemination at a workshop in Nairobi next month.

This article is issued by the Cross-Border Conflict Evidence, Policy and Trends (XCEPT) research programme, funded by UK International Development. XCEPT brings together world-leading experts and local researchers to examine conflict-affected borderlands, how conflicts connect across borders, the intersection of climate stresses and conflict, and the drivers of violent and peaceful behaviour, to inform policies and programmes that support peace.

The views and opinions expressed in this document are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily represent those of the UK government.

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