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# taz.de -- One year of war in Sudan: Khartoum in my heart
> Our author writes about the fact that Sudan's rulers have destroyed her
> home town. But she is not giving up hope.
Bild: Sudanese journalist Lujain Alsedeg, now in exile in Cairo
The [1][German translation] of this piece written exclusively for TAZ is
here
A year ago, and after spending eleven days in a warzone, I decided to leave
the city I grew up in. Since then, the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the
paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) have continued their brutal fight,
destroying Khartoum.
Before the war, Khartoum was home to everything I held dear in my life, the
place where my father was buried and most of my family resides, everything
we owned as a family was within the borders of Sudan’s capital, and despite
the harsh political and economic circumstances, our collective belief as
sudanese citizens in the safety of khartoum never wavered.
Because for a long time, living in Sudan meant understanding the
complicated reality of how warlords battled over Khartoum’s power and
resources outside Khartoum. The capital was treated as the civilized face
of the country and to maintain the image, conflicts had to be settled
elsewhere.
During my school years, „elsewhere“ meant Darfur and South Sudan. News of
rebel groups fighting the government was a distant memory. Local news
alienated South and Western Sudanese from the rest of the country,
portraying them as savages and thieves. This narrative has roots in
colonial times, when English and Turkish authorities fueled tribalism and
racism by favoring northerners with wealth and status. The result was a
country torn by civil conflicts and vast differences in development, access
to resources and education between the different regions.
## John Garang's death instantly divided the capital
But Khartoum status as the civilized haven in Sudan was tested before the
recent conflicts, one of the first attempts to jeopardize the „safety“ of
Khartoum that I witnessed while still in school was when the leader of
People's Liberation Army John Garang was killed in a helicopter crash, a
couple of months after signing the Naivasha peace Agreement in 2005.
Following his death 36 people were killed in riots, where Northerners and
Southern Sudanese attacked each other in the capital, the shock of Garang’s
death instantly divided the capital to Southern vs Northern, a divide that
was already happening in the South but was buried under layers of
socioeconomic divide in the capital.
My memory of the violence after John Garang’s death is different from the
rest of my family, and most of the people in my community, because my
school was one of the few institutions in Sudan that encouraged coexistence
between muslim and christian communities in Khartoum, despite being founded
as a missionary school during the colonial rule over Sudan.
Sister’s School was transformed by Sudanese teachers into a space that does
not tolerate discrimination, all of us were treated equally inside the
school premises, and while the rest of the country had either muslim
schools for northerns and christian schools for southerns, my school
provided education for both, and when the violence erupted outside, we were
comforting each other. Our small community of students and teachers were
personally affected by the news but the shock never transformed into
violence or tensions, we continued to coexist peacefully during and after
the riots.
Another attempt to disrupt the fragile peace in Khartoum was in 2008, when
the Justice and Equality Movement (JEM), launched an armed attack on
Omdurman, one of the three towns that form greater Khartoum, more than 220
people were killed during the battles that lasted 48 hours, the attack
ended with JEM admitting defeat and retreating outside Khartoum. This time
the city took longer to recover and harsher punishments were imposed on the
perpetrators, including death sentences.
Despite these events, Khartoum remained the ultimate local destination in
the minds of Sudanese people, the only place worth investing in and home
for more than 6 million people.
## Shattered dreams and oppressive conditions
There were also civil attempts to disrupt Khartoum’s indifference to the
grievances outside the capital, in 2011 people started to mobilize and
protest against the Bashir’s regime, which ruled the country since 1989.
These demonstrations continued until 2013 despite the violent crackdowns,
and eventually receded for a while amid promises of reforms within the
ruling party and government.
But the promises were never fulfilled, and the Secession of South Sudan in
2011 added to political and economic struggles in the country. So in
December 2018, when the inflation rate reached its peak at that time,
another round of protests started in the capital city of Blue Nile,
Al-Damazin, and soon after Khartoum joined.
Up until December 2018, I had a complex relationship with Khartoum, the
love I had for the streets I grew up in was mixed with hate over shattered
dreams and oppressive conditions. While my school days were sheltered from
first hand experiences of injustices, in university I was exposed to the
experiences of my peers from all around Sudan, I listened to their stories
about life in refugee camps and in the middle of warzones, and I joined in
the protests against the centralized state, despite benefiting from it as
someone who grew up in Khartoum, I could see at that point how it harmed
the rest of country, how the little resources that Sudan had, were wasted
on a selected few who had the power and connections.
And the hate turned into hope, participating in the protests ignited a
sense of responsibility inside me, I could suddenly channel the frustration
and anger into actions.
## A city no longer indifferent
By the time of the April sit-in and the toppling of Al-Bashir dictatorship,
participating in the protests sparked a sense of ownership over Khartoum,
our streets were now filled with memories of participating in a glorious
revolution, where hundreds of people remained peaceful till their last
breath in the face of brutal regime, I belonged to a city that was no
longer indifferent but aware of its own privilege, and actively working
towards changing it. And for the first time, I was proud of my city.
The pride was not shaken even by the 2021 coup, we knew that changing our
country was not an easy feat, and we took to the streets again, this time
mobilizing on the neighborhood levels and trying to create a grassroots
structure that can replace the corrupt military rule and the complicit
political parties.
We were prepared to fight the long fight, using peaceful tools like civil
disobedience and weekly demonstrations.
For two years after the coup, and despite the violent crackdown on protests
that led to more than 100 protestors killed by security forces, the de
facto leader failed to create a full functioning government to run the
country. No one was winning in the fight between the people in the streets
and the people in power, and the country seemed to be stuck in a state of
halt.
Underneath the apparent state of halt, tensions were boiling between SAF
and RSF, despite participating in the 2021 coup, the leaders of the two
armed forces had disagreement over the little power that was left in the
country.
## Believing in a way back
On 15 April 2023, I witnessed Khartoum turning into a battlefield, in the
face of violence and heavy armory, our stock of peaceful resistance tools
and skills were no longer useful.
Leaving was the only thing we could do.
Since then, Khartoum witnessed as both warring parties claimed victory over
the other, when in reality, there was nothing left to be won. The
destruction spared nothing physically, economically, socially and
culturally – as buildings are bombarded and homes looted.
The only thing that was not destroyed was a belief we carried in our
suitcases while leaving, a belief in a way back.
Today, the war in my city is one year old, our home in Khartoum was
destroyed and looted after we left. And the apartment I rented with my
family in Cairo never felt like home. We still have daily conversations
about what will happen when the war ends, we disagree over how we will know
that the war ended, there is no authority left in Sudan that can be
trusted, there is no guarantee that even if the war stopped for a while
that it will not resurface again with old or new faces of conflict.
The leader of the RSF famously said before that „if you are not fighting,
you don’t have an opinion“, and SAF leader recently echoed this sentiment
by declaring that only the people who were „resilient“ in the face of
aggression will rule the country, implying that leaving or not choosing a
side in the war will be used as an excuse to exclude people in the future.
The attempts to shatter our dreams of returning home have already started.
But I still believe in a way back, and I don’t think it will happen after a
big peace declaration, or a grand gesture by one of the warring parties. I
am simply waiting for an opening. A chance for ordinary people to exist
peacefully without participating in the conflicts and violence, a chance to
rebuild our homes and our city, and I would seize it in a heartbeat.
15 Apr 2024
## LINKS
[1] /Ein-Jahr-Krieg-in-Sudan/!6001608
## AUTOREN
Lujain Alsedeg
## TAGS
Schwerpunkt Krieg in Sudan
Sudan
Hoffnung
Schwerpunkt Krieg in Sudan
Schwerpunkt Krieg in Sudan
Schwerpunkt Flucht
Afrika im Wettbewerb globaler Mächte
Weltflüchtlingstag
Schwerpunkt Krieg in Sudan
## ARTIKEL ZUM THEMA
Krieg im Sudan: Sudans Armee erobert Präsidentenpalast zurück
Im Krieg zwischen der paramilitärischen RSF und der Nationalarmee gewinnt
diese immer mehr Boden zurück. Nun erlangte sie Kontrolle über die
Hauptstadt Khartum.
Internationale Sudan-Konferenz: Endlich Geld. Und jetzt?
Der Zugang zu humanitärer Hilfe im Sudan dürfte praktisch unmöglich sein.
Die Regierung behindert schon jetzt die internationalen Hilfswerke.
Geberkonferenz für Sudan: Regierungen sagen Millionen zu
Eine Geberkonferenz in Paris sichert umfangreiche Zusagen für die
Sudan-Hilfsappelle der UN zu. Aber wie der Krieg zu beenden ist, bleibt
unklar.
Politisches Klima im Sudan: Komitees der Hoffnung
Jahrzehntelang litten die Menschen im Sudan unter einer Diktatur. Jetzt
kämpfen sie für eine demokratische Regierung und eine neue Gesellschaft.
Flucht aus Sudan: Wir leben noch
Unsere Autorin ist aus ihrer Heimat Sudan nach Ägypten geflohen – gerade
noch rechtzeitig. Ein Teil ihrer Familie blieb zurück. Protokoll einer
Odyssee.
Krieg in Sudan: Mein Abschied von Khartum
Als die Kämpfe näher kamen, war es Zeit zu gehen. Zurück bleibt der Traum
von einem besseren Sudan. Chronik einer Flucht.
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