While the plight of Khartoum may be new, Sudan’s history of conflict is not. Right under our noses, South Sudan experienced similar horrors that led to its separation from Sudan after Africa’s longest-running civil war with the Sudanese army.
As in Darfur, Khartoumians ignored the Janjaweed’s genocidal acts as they continued with their daily lives. Both South Sudanese and Darfurians were internally displaced and scattered worldwide for decades, some to never return, living only on memories of horror survival stories.
Now, each Khartoumian bears a survival story, a testament to resilience shared only by those with the strength to recount it. Many have gone into severe desperation, and many have passed away due to sudden heart attacks and other sudden illnesses. Many think the two are related, and many repeat the Islamic belief that “their day has come”, suggesting they would have died if they were in their beds in a safe Khartoum.
Because of the scarcity of official news from or about Sudan, which has been overshadowed by international attention on Gaza, our family WhatsApp groups have transformed into news briefings.
Recently, one of my family’s remaining neighbours shared images and videos showing how our once-vibrant neighbourhood in the old quarter of Umdorman in Khartoum is now a ghost town. We recently learned it has been taken from the Janjaweed by the army forces.
Cautiously filming during morning prayers to avoid the watchful eyes of the Janjaweed, our neighbour captured desolate streets strewn with corpses and burnt cars. Tales emerged of forced marriages to Janjaweed soldiers, a famous doctor shot in a brief debacle over his car, and the passing of a beloved uncle who sought refuge in a Sufi Sheikh’s house.
This is the harsh reality for those who chose to stay: destroyed communities, a lack of basic medical attention, and the ever present threat of death.
Meanwhile, stories of newlyweds intending to embark on a perilous journey to Europe, now smuggled into Libya and forced to endure horrific conditions, echo with the haunting news of a twelve Sudanese souls killed when their refugee boat sank off the coast of Tunisia, inducing a sombre silence within the group. Working in museums has always fueled my curiosity about how societies can abandon cities, leaving homes untouched and unreturned until rediscovered by archaeologists or, in our case, WhatsApp archaeologists.
May April be filled with good vibes, better experiences, bigger goals, more happiness, conscious manifestations, positive thinking, healthier body, and a more focused mind.
