Water deliverymen working before dawn pump water from the Nile into the tanks of their waiting trucks. Without any city water supply network, all residences in Juba have their water delivered by such trucks.
An Eritrean water truck driver navigates his vehicle through Juba's dark streets before dawn. The majority of such trucks are owned and driven by young Eritrean men, most of whom have fled military conscription, a stagnant economy, and a repressive dictatorship back home.
Moses, an Eritrean from Asmara, pumps water into an empty oil drum as the owner looks on outside the small hut where he lives.
A young Eritrean man messages family left behind in Asmara as he and his friend lie in bed in their room in Juba. "Our loss is family," says one migrant worker who requested not to be named for fear his family back in Eritrea would be persecuted by the government, "I don't know when I will see them again - Maybe never. Life is small when you have no family so I hope we have not said goodbye."
A water tower rises above Jeremiah as he sleeps in the compound yard. The myriad risks inherent to life in South Sudan are multiplied when there as a political refugee and denied consular services. In the months since South Sudan's conflict erupted, Jeremiah has quit delivering water due to insecurity, and begun working construction in a provincial capital. "I cannot return home [to Eritrea]," he said when reached by phone, "I have one direction forward now."
A waiter serves dinner to a group of migrant workers at a Thai restaurant in Juba. An increasing number of restaurants serving foreign dishes sprouted up in Juba after Independence. They were started predominantly by gutsy immigrant entrepreneurs seeking to capitalize on the growing number of foreign businessmen and aid workers who began arriving to Juba.
Noy tosses a stir fry dish in the restaurants kitchen while fellow compatriots help prepare food in the background.
Ugandan waitresses pick finished dishes from the kitchen. The wait staff consist primarily of Ugandan women who, like Noy and his countrymen, traveled to Juba for better employment opportunities and higher wages.
Noy takes a break to rest in the hallway behind the kitchen. "My quality of life is not so good, but the work is worth it," he says, "I can earn three times more than my salary back home and my family needs it."
Boda drivers carry passengers through Juba. Many claim the name "boda" derives from motorcycle taxi men who ferried people through the no-man's land between borders, with client demands for the "Border border!" bastardized to "Boda boda!".
Dickson (left) eats a lunch of typical Ugandan foods in a stall run by a Ugandan woman. Consistent with the synergistic growth of informal economies and ethnic enclaves, many Ugandan entrepreneurs have been lured to South Sudan with the prospect of providing services to those compatriots that preceded them.
School children walk past a "boda stage" in Juba where motorcycle taxi drivers wait for passengers. Moto taxis, or "bodas", are the quickest form of cheap public transport in South Sudan.
Levi, a Ugandan, first came to Juba to manage a housing compound that was being built. He soon followed his friends though and took of boda driving full time.
Levi waits for food at a local fried chicken stand in Juba. Since the previous photo he had been robbed by three men when driving home at night. He was able to escape with his boda, but lost a significant amount of money and suffered injuries that continued to plague him.
Levi locks his front door and heads out to try and find work with his boda. Once predisposed to optimistic scheming, he was despondent when talking about his goals, "I want to leave this place. I need to pay this debt and go."
Levi's neighbor looks out of the small tin-roofed hut where he and many other Ugandan's live in Juba.
Levi changes his shirt back at his home. He had fallen into debt, Lily had left and he had lost considerable weight from stress and continued abdominal pain resulting from the injuries he sustained during his robbery.
Levi sits on his boda as he waits for passengers. Ugandans have since been outlawed from boda driving by a government mandate to help clean up the streets and give South Sudanese youth jobs. What few Ugandan boda drivers stayed in Juba have mostly left since the conflict erupted in Decemeber.