How Does 'A Long Walk To Water' Depict Survival In Sudan?

The survival in 'A Long Walk to Water' is raw and unflinching. Salva's journey shows how desperation fuels endurance—walking for months, dodging lions and soldiers, drinking muddy water just to stay alive. The parallel story of Nya highlights modern struggles, walking hours daily for dirty water that still might kill her family. What struck me most was how survival isn’t just physical; it’s mental. Salva’s hope keeps him moving when others collapse. The book doesn’t sugarcoat—starvation, violence, and loss are constant threats. Yet it also shows small mercies, like strangers sharing food or the relief of a single sip of clean water. Survival here isn’t heroic; it’s a chain of tiny, brutal choices.

Reading 'A Long Walk to Water' feels like holding a mirror to human resilience. The dual narratives—Salva in the 1980s and Nya in the 2000s—show how little changed for Sudan’s people despite decades passing. Salva’s survival during the Second Sudanese Civil War is a masterclass in adaptability. He loses everything repeatedly—family, safety, even his shoes—yet learns to find water in cactus roots and safety in crowds of refugees. The scenes where he crosses the Akobo Desert haunted me; bodies litter the sand, but he focuses on putting one foot in front of the other.

Nya’s story exposes how survival is gendered. While Salva flees war, Nya battles nature—dragging jerrycans through heat, watching siblings fall sick from parasites. Her survival is quieter but no less brutal. The book’s genius is linking their struggles through water: Salva’s desperation for any drop parallels Nya’s lifelong trek to a contaminated pond. When Salva returns as an adult to drill wells, it’s a gut punch—survival isn’t just enduring; it’s breaking cycles.

The most harrowing part? This isn’t fiction. The author based Salva’s story on real experiences of Lost Boys. That knowledge makes scenes like Salva eating leaves or Nya’s sister dying from dirty water hit harder. Survival here isn’t a plot device; it’s history.

'A Long Walk to Water' frames survival as collective as much as individual. Salva survives because people help him—aunties sharing sorghum, fishermen offering shelter—even when they have nothing. The book shatters the lone survivor trope; here, community is the lifeline. Contrast that with Nya’s isolation, her village too poor to share resources. The difference between Salva’s survival and Nya’s near-stagnation shows how war and poverty reshape resilience.

What lingers is the role of luck. Salva lives while others perish not from strength but chance—being tall enough to reach aid, finding the right refugee group. The book forces readers to sit with that discomfort. Survival isn’t fair. Nya’s ending, with clean water finally arriving, feels bittersweet. It’s progress, but the cost—generations of lost potential—is staggering. The prose is simple, letting the horror and hope speak for themselves.