As citizens endure relentless bombardments, their heart-wrenching stories reveal the brutal realities of war and targets against humanity.
War-Torn Sudan: Voices from El-Fasher Amidst Atrocities and Despair
War-Torn Sudan: Voices from El-Fasher Amidst Atrocities and Despair
Amid Sudan's ongoing civil war, BBC infiltrates el-Fasher to document the plight of civilians facing hunger and violence.
In the besieged city of el-Fasher, Sudan, the voices of those affected by the ongoing civil war echo a narrative of sorrow and survival. The BBC World Service managed to smuggle in smartphones to connect with the locals, who bravely documented their daily struggles amidst chaos. Hafiza, a 21-year-old girl, mourns the loss of her mother, killed in a market shelling last August, thrusting her into the role of caregiver for her siblings after their father’s earlier death.
The family, like many others, has lived under constant threat from the fighting between the Sudanese army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), now firmly entrenched in a brutal conflict that triggered a humanitarian crisis. "Grief is very difficult, I still can't bring myself to visit her workplace," Hafiza shared in one of her video messages, reflecting the deep emotional toll of her circumstances.
Mostafa, another resident, describes the relentless artillery shelling that disrupts their lives day and night. "There is no safe place in el-Fasher," he states, expressing the chilling reality that no one is truly secure—the sound of gunfire and explosions is a constant backdrop. Amidst the chaos, he volunteers at shelters, documenting the destruction of his home after it was attacked, leaving him grappling with loss and instability.
Manahel, a 26-year-old who had just graduated, finds herself delivering food to the displaced, struggling against rising prices and crippling shortages of essential supplies. She, too, faced personal tragedy as her father was killed while attempting to protect their home. Residents recount heart-wrenching experiences, revealing that famine looms dangerously on the horizon, with thousands already facing starvation.
With the RSF accused of targeting non-Arab communities, the fear among residents, especially women, is palpable. Hafiza voices a chilling concern, "As a girl, I might get raped," highlighting the harrowing reality faced by many in the city afflicted by both warfare and ethnic violence.
Even as fighters claim control in el-Geneina with assertions of peace, the truth remains concealed under layers of fear and oppression. The European Union has sanctioned officials for their roles in the violence, yet the local governance maintains that the situation is stabilizing, dismissing the accounts of those fleeing for safety.
In the wake of unyielding violence, Hafiza, Mostafa, and Manahel made the heartbreaking decision to leave el-Fasher, in search of safety and respite. Each departed with trepidation, uncertain of when—if ever—they might return to their homes. "We are leaving without knowing our fate," Manahel lamented as she packed her belongings, voicing a sentiment felt by millions in Sudan wrestling with the devastation wrought by the conflict.
As the war continues to rage, it becomes increasingly clear that the hope for stability remains distant for the people of el-Fasher, a reality that reflects the plight of countless others across Sudan seeking peace and security.
The family, like many others, has lived under constant threat from the fighting between the Sudanese army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), now firmly entrenched in a brutal conflict that triggered a humanitarian crisis. "Grief is very difficult, I still can't bring myself to visit her workplace," Hafiza shared in one of her video messages, reflecting the deep emotional toll of her circumstances.
Mostafa, another resident, describes the relentless artillery shelling that disrupts their lives day and night. "There is no safe place in el-Fasher," he states, expressing the chilling reality that no one is truly secure—the sound of gunfire and explosions is a constant backdrop. Amidst the chaos, he volunteers at shelters, documenting the destruction of his home after it was attacked, leaving him grappling with loss and instability.
Manahel, a 26-year-old who had just graduated, finds herself delivering food to the displaced, struggling against rising prices and crippling shortages of essential supplies. She, too, faced personal tragedy as her father was killed while attempting to protect their home. Residents recount heart-wrenching experiences, revealing that famine looms dangerously on the horizon, with thousands already facing starvation.
With the RSF accused of targeting non-Arab communities, the fear among residents, especially women, is palpable. Hafiza voices a chilling concern, "As a girl, I might get raped," highlighting the harrowing reality faced by many in the city afflicted by both warfare and ethnic violence.
Even as fighters claim control in el-Geneina with assertions of peace, the truth remains concealed under layers of fear and oppression. The European Union has sanctioned officials for their roles in the violence, yet the local governance maintains that the situation is stabilizing, dismissing the accounts of those fleeing for safety.
In the wake of unyielding violence, Hafiza, Mostafa, and Manahel made the heartbreaking decision to leave el-Fasher, in search of safety and respite. Each departed with trepidation, uncertain of when—if ever—they might return to their homes. "We are leaving without knowing our fate," Manahel lamented as she packed her belongings, voicing a sentiment felt by millions in Sudan wrestling with the devastation wrought by the conflict.
As the war continues to rage, it becomes increasingly clear that the hope for stability remains distant for the people of el-Fasher, a reality that reflects the plight of countless others across Sudan seeking peace and security.
