As Sudan burns, one refugee embarks on a harrowing journey into the unknown

It was a cruel twist of fate that this very song played on a bus during my own journey of displacement from the violence, as I sought refuge within the vast expanse of my own country.

In that moment, a profound silence enveloped us, and the eyes of both women and men welled up with silent tears. Eventually, those tears transformed into open weeping.

It appeared that the weight of the situation had overwhelmed their pride, compelling these impoverished people to give voice to their pain. Time and time again, just as hope began to blossom for a brighter future, unforeseen calamity struck, shattering dreams before they could materialise.

A shrinking homeland

How has the vast country of Sudan become so constricted? What has happened in this country – known for its kindness – where its inhabitants used to sing "Its land is a treasury, with gardens, and its stars are beacons of kindness"?

It feels as if our homeland shrunk, as many Sudanese people have to flee the violence raging across so much of it in a desperate search for safety.

Or is the country paying a price for some of the choices it has made, like some kind of character from legend, who befriended a dragon, blind or in denial of the harm that its fires might cause, and now confronted with the blaze?

However it happened, so many of us have left our homes.  But our hearts remain there. We embarked on a journey into the unknown, our gaze constantly turned back. For the beloved land we left behind is more precious, dearer, and more beautiful to us now, and we will not turn our backs on it forever.

This cursed war that currently engulfs Khartoum is not the first to plague Sudan.

Civil wars have burned through our unfortunate country since even before its independence, in Southern Sudan, Darfur, Southern Kordofan, the Nuba Mountains, the Blue Nile, and eastern Sudan.

The people of rural Sudan are all too familiar with the horrors of war and its consequences. They have experienced firsthand the brutality and madness of soldiers, both in times of intoxicating victory and crushing defeat.

No stranger to war

Throughout Sudan's contemporary history, the fires of war have raged, but mainly on its periphery. Like the grisly prophecy of Birnam Wood in Shakespeare's epic tragedy Macbeth, these remote battles presaged a bloody clash at the centre of power for control of a country.

This gradual advance of violence reached Khartoum on 15 April 2023. It ended the capital's long, peaceful slumber during which its citizens had either turned a blind eye to the war in the country or were simply unaware of it.

Once the fighting arrived, it brought a new reality. And with it came a new choice for the people of the capital: to try and co-exist with the conflict, or flee from it. Whatever decision was made, everyone curses the war, even those trying to ignore it.

On that fateful day, as the soldiers turned against each other, the illusion of safety that Khartoum had held for so long was soon shattered.

The once-radiant city was caught in the crossfire between two bitter rivals. Fighting raged between an exhausted army – tainted by political corruption and its one-time support for the absurd governance of the Islamists – and a savage militia which unleashed brutality reminiscent of past conquerors, like the Tatars and Mongols. 

Read more: The war in Sudan is really a battle over spoils

Bloodshed and destruction raged through the streets. All the while, this battle for sovereignty risked leaving any victor ruling over nothing more than ashes and rubble, death and devastation.

Militia takeover

The militia swiftly spread across the land, seizing control of hospitals and transforming them into military strongholds.

They callously expelled residents from their homes, resulting in widespread violence, death and sexual aggression against women. There was looting and intimidation on the streets. 

They showed no remorse for repeating the atrocities witnessed in Darfur.

Their wealth enabled them to manipulate media outlets and employ articulate spokespeople to deny their crimes and justify their heinous acts as a means to restore democracy.

These words came in various languages, including eloquent Arabic, but they did not answer a crucial question: Can democracy truly be achieved through violence and bloodshed?

As for the regular Sudanese army, it had transformed into a militia itself, influenced by the rule of Islamists. 

It carries the burden of shame for prioritising the recruitment of external contractors and mercenaries instead of developing its own artillery and infantry.

It relied on the Popular Defence Forces, the Marahil militia, the Janjaweed, the Rapid Support Forces, and other militias for military engagements, rather than investing in a national army that could potentially challenge the corruption and tyranny within its ranks.

Now, the Sudanese people bear the heavy consequences of this choice. The army finds itself ill-equipped, lacking sufficient infantry, and engaged in urban warfare alongside an expanding militia that shows little regard for the laws and rules of warfare.

In an attempt to conceal its own naked aggression, the army resorts to using warplanes to bombard militia positions, disregarding the civilian casualties in terms of lives lost and the destruction of property and infrastructure. 

The police have vanished, and the state has dissolved into oblivion, leaving only the machinery of violence and the haunting sounds of shelling and gunfire.

Resistance committees

In this dire situation, resistance committees have emerged once again to fill the void. Initially formed as a response to the absence of an organised political class after party leaders were arrested following the October 2021 coup, these committees now step forward to compensate for the absence of the state.

With unparalleled courage, these young men and women take to the streets of Khartoum, undertaking vital tasks such as evacuating those trapped in combat zones, operating makeshift hospitals, treating wounded civilians, providing essential supplies, and even ensuring access to water.

When the Rapid Support Forces militia occupied the Bahri water station, cutting off water to a significant portion of the capital's population, the resistance committees tirelessly worked to re-establish vital supplies.

Organised into what they refer to as "emergency rooms", resistance committees serve as beacons of hope, defying the violence perpetuated by guns and standing strong in the face of adversity.

A sky engulfed in flames

The army brought fire to the skies of Khartoum, while the militias seized the land, forcing the people out of their homes, leaving them roaming lost, without a destination or a route. 

People left everything behind:  their possessions, dreams, memories, and a false sense of security they had long clung to.

This suffering was not solely about leaving their homeland. As is often the case with forced migration, the true weight lay in the uncertainty and the unknown. 

The stories of these journeys can only truly be told once their most perplexing questions find their answers. To leave your home without knowing when – or if –  you will return, and what you might find even if you do,  is a unique form of open-ended suffering.

It was under these exact and horrific circumstances that buses lined up in the capital, ready to transport people to different states within Sudan. The rural Sudanese opened their homes with genuine generosity to receive their "guests from Khartoum.

War economy

Meanwhile, the war economy bared its teeth, and crisis profiteering emerged. Rent prices skyrocketed, as did the cost of essential commodities and food.

In pictures: Violent clashes spark food crisis in Sudan

The banking system faltered, with only intermittent functionality in certain financial applications. The scarcity of cash worsened the injustice faced by the Sudanese, as this war seemed to level the rich and the poor as if it were Judgment Day itself.

In the early days of the crisis, Sudan's neighbouring countries opened their doors to people fleeing the inferno of war. 

Among them, the people and government of South Sudan stood tall in their generosity toward our Sudanese brethren amidst this catastrophe.

They were the epitome of brotherhood, humanity, and kinship, as they chose to rise above all barriers, extending their hands to help, opening their borders, lands, homes, and hearts to the Sudanese people escaping the futile horrors of war. 

In all this terrible darkness, Juba emerged as a radiant beacon of compassion, love, and humanity. Despite administrative complexities, Egypt and Chad also welcomed tens of thousands of Sudanese refugees, despite their own challenging economic conditions.

Only the lucky escape

Unfortunately, only those who are financially capable have been able to escape the horrors of this ongoing war that has plagued Sudan for over two months. They have sought safety and refuge, but the most vulnerable groups remain trapped between the merciless militias and the powerless army, exposed to danger, death, and abuse. 

During my journey across different cities in Sudan, I was reunited with my sister-in-law in Port Sudan, where she graciously hosted us.

However, news reached her that the Rapid Support Forces had stormed and looted their newly completed house in Khartoum. After years of patience, hard work, and dedication, they were forced to leave it behind.

She pulled out her handbag and showed me the keys to the doors and rooms of the house, which she had locked before their departure, preserving them in the hope of their return. She uttered with sadness: "The Palestinians are no longer the only ones who hold the keys to their homes and dream of return."

The Sudanese people have left their homes, stripped of everything except their dreams. Homes wither when their inhabitants are absent.

Let us pray for the day when we no longer need to speak of exile, and we can once again embrace our homeland.