Darfurian IDPs in Khartoum: A Painful Narrative of a Struggle for Survival

Sudan, Africa’s once-largest nation, has been ravaged by civil war and famine for nearly two decades. In war-torn Darfur, 400,000 civilians have reportedly been killed since the violence erupted in early 2003. Today, almost one third of the population are internally displaced and the killing continues. While many of the survivors flee the violence in their villages and arrive at camps for internally displaced persons (IDP camps), their lives remain in danger. UN studies reveal that even though IDP camps are potentially safer than villages under attack by government-supported Janjaweed, mortality rates are alarmingly higher than the emergency benchmark.

IDP camps in Khartoum

Khartoum, Sudan’s capital is a hotchpotch of wealth and poverty that is veiled with crime and frustration. As the city significantly began expanding over the last three decades, settlements, often unregulated, began forming. A sizeable number of IDPs are living in the camps located in the cities of Khartoum, Khartoum North and Omdurman.

Many migrants and IDPs traditionally use relatives as an entry point into Khartoum, as a means of social protection and support to secure employment. Others settle in unfinished buildings and construction sites. IDPs and poor migrants have concentrated in particular areas throughout Khartoum. Four sites – Wad al-Bashir, Dar al-Salam, Jebel Awlia and Mayo Farm are officially designated as IDP camps, in addition to several unplanned areas which the authorities regard as squatter settlements, such as al-Haj Yousif, Soba, Abu Zeid, al-Fatih City, al-Bugaah and Marzoug.

The raw and intricate history of camps and irregular sites in Khartoum is notably manifested in the names given to these locations by their communities. Examples include ‘Jabarona’ (we were forced to), ‘Karor’ (rubbish), ‘Zagalona’ (they threw us), ‘Duyum Bahri’ (the ghettos/hood of Bahri), ‘Eshash Fellata’ (shanky houses of the fellata, a communal Sudanese term for West African tribes).

The camps are filled with men, women and children from Darfur, South Sudan, Nuba Mountains, South Kordofan, Blue Nile and other parts of Sudan. Lacking education and skills in an alien land with dissimilar culture and religion, IDPs often find it challenging to eke out a living. Constantly fearing relocation and having no consistent income, some of them are forced to resort to criminal activities ranging from petty thefts, boot legging, extortion and at times, violent crimes.

Harsh living conditions

In 2005, a group of IDPs arrived in Khartoum North and set up camp at an abandoned area overlooking the Nile. They made houses out of bamboo sticks, hay and mud, cartons and sugar sacks, and called their new home al-Jazeera (The Island). Much of the settlement is based on improvisation, and the houses are not distributed evenly – each house is adjacent to the other, with little or no spaces in between. 60-year-old Hajja Gisma, an inhabitant of al-Jazeera told her story.

“I came here with my two daughters and their children four years ago after my husband and son-in-law were both killed by the Janjaweed in Darfur. When we first arrived in al-Jazeera, we were told there were hundreds of IDPs who lived here before us but the government forced them out without offering them any sort of compensation. Now, we live in constant fear that the same will happen to us.

“My daughters look after the children during the day while I’m at work. I don’t have a steady job; every day I go door-to-door and ask home owners if they want any cleaning done. Sometimes, I sweep staircases of apartment buildings and get paid a reasonable amount of money, and other times I go back home empty handed. A week can pass by without us having any food on the table, and the children often go to bed starving. If things get really bad, we send the children out to beg for food.

“If the children get sick, we improvise using traditional home remedies like ‘garadh’ (an antibiotic plant commonly used for medical purposes).

We have no electricity or running water, and nor do we have warm clothes or blankets. When winter arrives we freeze through the night, particularly since the Nile is a stone throw away from us. During rainy season, the houses often get flooded and we have to rebuild them using whatever material we can get our hands on.”

‘Disguised discrimination’

Sudan is rife with tribalism and, even though not institutionalized, acts of discrimination are often practiced by the government. Government job hopefuls, national service recruits and average civilians applying for the National identification (ID) number are required to state the name of their tribe in their applications. The root of tribalism in Sudan can be traced back to the pre-independence era when tribal groups (including African and Asian races) found it difficult to coexist and slave trade was prevalent. Additonally, there’s a virtual hierarchy - discrimination is based upon, superiority of tribes on the basis of skin shade or ‘Arabism’.

“Back home, conditions were dire. I managed to flee with my family when I was 16, and I even attended college and graduated,” remarked 23-year-old Narjis.

“I live in a tiny house with my parents and nine siblings. We have two bedrooms with mattresses as the only furniture, a kitchen and a tap-less bathroom. I was my family’s only hope since my dad is ill and my mother is too old to be working. While I was in high school, she worked as a tea seller. After enrolling in college, she stayed home while I simultaneously studied and worked odd jobs to support the family.

“Upon graduation, I was eager to look for a job with a steady income so I can fulfil my dream of providing my family with a better life. I’ve been searching for a job for two years now, and am back to doing odd jobs. I sell peanuts and candy, while my mom is back at her old job. At the end of each month, we both hand in almost all of our salary to the owner of the grocery shop next to our house because we buy our groceries on credit.

“Even though I’m qualified with a degree in education, no one wants to hire me because of my ethnic background. They take one look at my last name and my application is immediately rejected. I fled a region of war that’s sparked by tribalism, but here I am again, in the capital, face-to-face with it once again,” she recounted.

Munzoul Assal, Associate Professor of Social Anthropology and the director of Graduates Affairs at the University of Khartoum has recently published a case study on urbanization and vulnerability in Sudan. He noted that from the very start, the government has been preventing Darfurian IDPs from settling in official camps, adding that the way the government looks at the Darfur situation is very discouraging.

“For Darfurian IDPs, this has great implications on their living conditions. If they lack recognized housing, NGOs can’t locate them and provide them with healthcare and other services. As for employment, hundreds of thousands of Sudanese civilians are jobless, so it makes sense that IDPs are in a more precarious situation, especially the males. They have virtually no chance of getting jobs.There’s a high level of discrimination that can’t be tackled in a concrete way, the whole system is based on favouritism and corruption. Even though the law prohibits all sources of discrimination, officials duck behind formal procedures and subject people to discrimination,” commented Assal.

Deprived of aid and marginalized

In 2009, after the International Criminal Court issued a warrant of arrest for Sudanese president Omar al-Bashir, charging him with crimes of genocide and crimes against humanity; the al Bashir’s National Congress Party (NCP) expelled 13 of the world’s most distinguished humanitarian organizations in Darfur in retaliation. These organizations were providing the IDPs with water, food, medicine, health services and other essential life-saving materials, and their expulsion marked a big rift in the IDPs lives.

Additionally, IDP Camps in Darfur have witnessed an increasing spread of HIV/AIDS due to the lack of proper health education and training along with prevalent gender violence. With the Janjaweed militias incessantly patrolling around the camps of Darfur, IDPs remained imprisoned and unable to look for work for fear of being arrested or harassed.

After the expulsion of the aid agencies, local NGOs found themselves faced with the challenge of acting as a replacement for the IDPs. However, their lack of funding and the hurdles they often encounter make these local aid agencies ill equipped and in no way a match for the ones that the government deported.

“After the Doha Peace Agreement, Darfurian IDPs became more marginalized than ever. People started to forget about them. Today, nobody knows what they’re going through,” said Munzoul.

This article was first published here

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At The Heart of Sufism (Part 2): The Influences of Sufism in Sudanese Life

The village of Um Dawan Ban, 40 km from Khartoum, is deemed to be an ideal example of a Sufi region. Over 165 years ago, sheikh al-Ebaid Wad Badur, a Sufi of the al-Qadiriyya order, founded the village and spread the teachings of Sufism to the locals.

According to the city's residents, Wad Badur was travelling with his colleague in order to teach the Quran, when the two men stumbled upon the village, whose inhabitants treated them with great hospitality. It is recorded that upon dreaming that he was setting up a khalwa (solitary retreat) there, Wad Badur set up a khalwa the next day.

He is believed to have lit a fire inside his newly-established khalwa to help him read the Quran, and arrivals and convoys at night used the fire’s light for guidance. The village was then named Um Dawan Ban (where the light has shown). Nowadays, it is also commonly referred to as the Village of Quran due to the reputation of Wad Badur’s khalwa being a beacon for teaching the Quran.

Sufism and Politics

The Sufi orders in Sudan played significant roles in the country’s social, economic, cultural and political spheres. In some instances, Sufi orders have a history of transforming themselves into political forces.

The Turco-Egyptian invasion of 1820 was motivated by the desire of Muhammad Ali Pasha—the Viceroy of Egypt—to seize control of the wealth of Sudan. At the end of the Funj state’s reign and the beginning of the Turco-Egyptian rule in Sudan in 1821, Sudan entered a new political era. During this era, Sudan was introduced to various Sufi orders with the aid of the Egyptian rulers to give the new reign a religious zest and to guarantee the Sudanese people’s loyalty to Muhammad Ali Pasha. Pasha encouraged many new orders from Egypt to emerge in Sudan including the al-Saadiyya, al-Rahmaniyya, al-Badawiyya and al-Desoqiyya orders. In fact, Pasha’s policy in Sudan was based on strengthening ties between Egypt and Sudan, so he encouraged these orders to spread and take root, believing that religious propaganda is the easiest way to appeal to the masses of Sudan.

In 1881, the Turco-Egyptian regime was overthrown by a religious revolution, instigated by the al-Mahdiyya, who revolted due to harsh economic measures. The Mahdist state ruled Sudan until it was destroyed by an Anglo-Egyptian force in 1898.

Perhaps the strong influence of Sufism in Sudanese life is what prompted most regimes and political powers to exploit it in order to win political battles. In actuality, the emergence of traditional political parties in Sudan is associated with this arrangement, where the Democratic Unionist Party is an offshoot of the al-Mirghaniyya order, and the Ummah Party of the al-Mahdiyya order.

Moreover, the men of Sufi orders in Sudan have been involved in numerous aspects of modern life, and many of them and their children worked in state institutions and some of them even became counselors, ministers and ambassadors. Others excelled in academic life, such as sheikh Hassan al-Fatih Gariballah of the al-Samaniyya order, who went on to earn a professorship and published over 100 scientific papers. Many political leaders in Sudan are Sufis themselves, including several ministers in the present government. Gaafar Nimeiri, Sudan’s president from 1969 to 1985 was a faithful follower of the al-Sammaniya order.

Contemporary versus Traditional Sufis

Amir Ahmad, a self-proclaimed Sufi, does not practice Sufism in the traditional sense within a group or community setting. Instead, he individually meditates, recites zikir and practices the foundational Islamic tenets.

“My attraction to Sufism began when I got fed up of the overly legalistic approach to Islam that's dominant these days. Sufism's focus isn't on suffocating archaic rules. Instead the focus is on spiritual growth and mystical experiences, that are powerful and transformative once you've attained them and learned how to sustain their benefits so you can genuinely become a better person,” said Amir. “Moreover, since these are experiences, you don't have to believe in mysticism based on dogma and blind faith. The knowledge you attain is experiential, and you experience it for yourself,” he added.

On the other hand, Khalid Aboulela has been a follower of the Naqshbandiyya order for over 25 years, and says Sufism answered a lot of questions that seemed to be left unanswered by mainstream Islamic scholars. Khalid said, “As a believer in Allah I could not believe that the Quran was sent simply as a 'rule book'. There was clearly a lot of depth to the Quran. Praying, fasting, paying zakat and hajj just seemed to me, to be scratching the surface. I wanted to dive in, to find the 'pearls'.”

“Sufism allowed for the principle that there were different 'levels of knowledge' and that there was a type of knowledge that increased as our faith and closeness to Allah increased. It was this type of knowledge that they called 'spiritual knowledge', or gnosis in English or ma'rifah in Arabic. I was hooked to that,” he added.

When asked about the practices of the Naqshbandiyya order, Khalid explained that it centers on the follower's relationship with his sheikh through what is known as the rabitah (chain). “The follower is required to develop a rabitah with his sheikh spiritually, so that he is constantly in remembrance of his sheikh and in his presence until he achieves fanaa fil sheikh (annihilation into the sheikh), which leads to annihilation in the Prophet and ultimately annihilation in Allah. This is achieved through several methods including daily meditation in a quiet area in the dark, reciting certain Quranic surahs daily, maintaining the Sunnah in terms of dress and habits as much as possible and weekly zikir,” he clarified.

Khalid also commented on life as a Sufi saying, “Being a Sufi also affects your social life in terms of who you spend time with, who your friends are, and who you keep away from. Mainstream Muslims generally have ideological issues that run contrary to Sufism and that puts us off from participating in many Muslim groups or communities. Sufis tend to be more soft, forgiving and accepting of differences among people including non-Muslims, but we are also a lot less argumentative and tend to shy away from controversial arguments and debates. Some consider us secretive and that’s simply because we do not discuss our beliefs openly.”

Controversy

Amir and Khalid have different approaches to Sufism, but they both, however, agree on one thing: that the waves of criticisms on Sufism and claims that Sufism is a bid’ah (Islamic innovation) are nonsensical.

“The problem with Sufism in its current traditional form, especially in Sudan, is that it has become rife with superstition and excessive reverence of the sheikhs of the order. This obviously isn't because of something that's inherently wrong within Sufism itself, but because of the lack of education. Educated and open-minded Sudanese Sufis don't suffer from the problems you find quite spread amongst your average Sufis,” said Amir.

Regarding the music incorporated in some Sufi zikir sessions, which traditional Islamic scholars find unacceptable, both Amir and Khalid agree that there is nothing wrong with it, noting that the music is uplifting, positive and full of love and passion for God.

Khalid opined that the controversy stems from the use of magic in some Sufi ways and the emergence of false sheikhs. “Unfortunately there’s a tendency to abuse the nature/structure of Sufi orders in that false sheikhs tend to appear regularly in Sudan, which puts a drain on people and gives the real shuyookh (scholars) a bad reputation. It also overlaps with a lot of magic, hocus-pocus in Sudan (as well as in Egypt) with so-called shuyookh claiming to control jinns and pushing fake remedies and fixes to problems. These types are categorically rejected by the true Sufi shuyookh,” he stated.

This article was first published here

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At The Heart of Sufism (Part 1): Sufi Orders and Practices in Sudan

There’s a common belief in Sudan, “If a family does not have at least one Sufi member, it’s not Sudanese.” This may indubitably be the case, granted that Sudan has more Sufi Muslims than any other country in the world, and the number is expanding. Sufism is noticeably entrenched in the Sudanese community, and many think of it as a way of life. ‘Zikir’ (exercises of remembrance) and ‘madih nabawi’ (poems in praise of the Prophet) are often heard on the streets, in public buses and taxis, in shops and restaurants, and on local radio stations and television channels. ‘Zikir’ and other Sufi practices form part of the weekly Sufi rituals which bring together Sufis from all walks of life, regardless of class and other differences. Although these rituals are at times lengthy and strenuous, many engage in them with the belief that it is the ultimate form of spiritual worship, which will lead them to draw closer to God and to more fully embrace His divine presence in their lives.

The Emergence of Sufism in Sudan

Many historic accounts suggest that Islam made its impact in Sudan through the activity of Sufi orders. The orders first came to Sudan in the 16th century, and began to expand and take root two centuries later.
There are as many as a dozen Sufi orders in Sudan. While some are restricted to Sudan, others are widespread in Africa and the Middle East. Several orders are derivatives of older orders, and were established by men who made major or minor alterations to the practices of the orders to which they had formerly been linked.
Sufi orders reached all parts of Sudan until, according to some commentators, they reached about five main orders and several secondary ones. The most common ones are al-Qadiriyya with its multiple branches, al-Samaniyya, al-Shazaliyya, al-Tijaniyya, al-Mirghaniyya (al-Khatmiyya), al-Mikashfiyya, al-Majzoubiyya, al-Burhaniyya, al-Idrisiyya-al-Ahmadiya, al-Rashidiyya, al-Ismailiyya, al-Mahdiyya (al-Ansar) and the Naqshbandiyya.

Sufi Orders in Sudan

1) Al-Qadiriyya Order: Al-Qadiriyya is the most widespread and popular order in Sudan. It was founded by Abdelqadir al-Jilani in Baghdad, in the 12th century and was introduced to Sudan by sheikh Tajeldin al-Buhari at the beginning of the Funj state (a loose confederation of sultanates and dependent tribal chieftaincies drawn together under the suzerainty of the Kingdom of in southern Nubia in 1504).
2) Al-Samaniyya Order: A branch of the al-Qadiriyya order, the al-Samaniyya order was founded by sheikh al-Samani who is now buried in Medina. The order emerged in Sudan during the early decades of the Funj state via al-Sayed Ahmed al-Tayeb Wad al-Bashir.
3) Al-Shazaliyya Order: Founded by Imam Abu Hassan al-Shazali, the teachings of al-Shazaliyya order spread in Sudan before the reign of the Funj state, through Sheikh Khojali Abdelrahman.
4) Al-Tijaniyya Order: This order was established by Sheikh Ahmed al-Tijani in Morocco. It eventually penetrated Sudan in the mid-19th century via the western Sahel. It reached Northern Sudan, particularly the city of Berber, by the end of the Turkish reign through Sheikh Ahmed Mukhtar. It also spread in Darfur, west of Sudan.
5) Al-Mirghaniyya Order: Also referred to as al-Khatmiyya, the al-Mirghaniyya order is derived from both the Naqshbandiyya and the al-Shazaliyya orders. It was established in the early 19th century by Mohamed Othman al-Mirghani and settled in Sudan by the end of the Funj state’s reign through al-Sayed Ali Mirghani. The order originates from Sheikh Ahmed Bin Idris, a religious teacher in Mecca who sent his student Mirghani, to Sudan to spread the teachings of Islam. This order was well-received by political parties in Sudan and played a major role in the political history of the country.

The Sheikh, the Massiad and the Khalwa

In Sufism, a sheikh, a master or a ‘wali-Allah’ is believed to be divinely-guided and incapable of sin. An early Sufi sheikh, named Abu Yazid Al Bistami, is frequently quoted as saying, “He who has no sheikh, his sheikh is shaytan (the devil)”. This is a common belief among Sufis who condemn and harshly criticize self-proclaimed Sufis who do not belong to a specific order and do not follow a particular sheikh. No different from Sufis of other nationalities, Sudanese Sufis believe the sheikh acts as an intermediary between them and God.
The ‘massiad’, (the home of the sheikh of the order), and the ‘khalwa’ (which translates to solitude) where the Quran is memorized and the secrets of the order are learned, are the centers of the order. Each order has its own hierarchy with the sheikh at the top of the pyramid, usually followed by his successors. At the ‘khalwa’, the elite of dervishes or ‘hairan’ (followers) completely devote themselves to the order, and isolate themselves from the outside world for the sake of learning the secrets of the order, under the guidance of their sheikh.

Sufi Rituals and Celebrations

Zikir (remembrance) represents the essence of Sufi practices. Some historic accounts suggest that Sudanese Sufi orders introduced distinctive African elements (that are not present in other Sufi countries) in to zikir rituals of Sudan.

The ‘zikir’ exercises include reciting prayers and passages of the Quran and repeating the names or attributes of God while performing physical movements. Each order’s ‘zikir’ varies from the other according to the modus operandi established by the founder. Singing and dancing are also incorporated, and the outcome of an exercise, which may extend to hours, is often a state of ecstatic abandon.
Sufi rituals of the al-Samaniyya order, one of the largest orders in Sudan, are performed for hours every Friday. The al-Samaniyya followers meet during Friday prayers, all of them dressed in white ‘jellabiyas’ (traditional male garments) with leather belts across their chests, denoting their dedication to the order. The ritual, held at the al-Samaniyya mosque and led by sheikh Mohamed al-Tayeb, marks the presence of dozens of male followers lined up in a highly organized fashion, chanting the words ‘la ilaha illa Allah’ (there is no god but Allah) while the women join in upstairs.
While some Sudanese people choose to gain religious zeal through the al-Samaniyya order’s somewhat orthodox ‘zikir’ practices, others tend to lean towards non-traditional Sufi rituals that, on the surface, may seem more fun, entertaining and appealing. The Hamad al-Neel cemetery—a vast, dun-colored cemetery in Omdurman—is the headquarters of the al-Qadiriya order in Sudan and was founded by sheikh Hamad al-Neel, who is buried at a nearby mosque. The expanse serves as an attraction for tourists and photographers due to the nature of the order’s rituals, which combine African heritage, dance, music and colorful attire.
On Friday at 5 pm, the cemetery fills up with people of all ages, ethnicities and walks of life who come to be a part of the rituals, while tea sellers and pamphlet vendors surround the area around the tomb site. The dervishes are dressed in red and green, patchwork, leopard-prints or flowing white ‘jellabiyas’ and ‘immas’ (turbans). Some sport dreadlocks, amulets and talismans, and others don on colorful hats and enormous strings of prayer beads. Standing barefoot above the sand and under the heat of a sizzling sun, a few men pick up the rhythm on their ‘tambours’ (drums) and chant ‘zikr’ melodically while the crowd swells palpably, grooving to the rhythm. A fragrance of rich and distinctive frankincense fills up the atmosphere.

Photo: Ayman Elkhidir

As they sing harmoniously, the dervishes build up into a ritual frenzy and other followers crouch, bob and pump their arms in synchronization with the chants. Some spin in trances, some freestyle and some dance side-by-side in large circles. As sundown approaches, the dervishes reach a final sustained and jubilant tempo then stop for prayers. Lying flat on the ground in a reverie-like state, some of them embrace what they refer to as spiritual ecstasy.

Remembering the Prophet (PBUH)—the Sufi way

One of the largest gatherings in Sudan is the annual celebration of ‘al-Mawlid al-Nabawi’ (the Prophet’s birthday). Celebrated by Muslim countries around the world and marked as an official holiday in many of them, the ‘Mawlid’ in Sudan is commemorated in a festive ambience and involves ‘zikir’, ‘madih’, drumming sessions and other forms of performances.

The open-air venues are decorated with lights, floors are furnished with prayer rugs and Sufi flags are positioned all around the area. From children who enjoy the assorted sweets and candy in the shapes of brides and knights in horses, to adults who sip sweet tea and engage in the Sufi ceremonials, to travelers, tourists and photographers who attend to experience the local religious carnival, the ‘Mawlid’ is attended by people from all ages, orders and ethnicities. The ‘Mawlid’ even welcomes non-Sufis, who are often present in large numbers. The richer members of the community donate food, and the less fortunate mingle with the rest, enjoy free meals, juice and tea, and join in the chants.
While each Sufi order has its own distinct style, all are, to an extent, similar in terms of their impeccable hospitality, generosity and provoking a mood of spiritual joyousness among the masses.

This article was first published here

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Refugees in Eastern Sudan: On a Transitory Route to Freedom

Over the past 40 years, thousands of refugees from Eritrea and Ethiopia have been flocking in to Eastern Sudan – a region where the Taka Mountains with their rocky, majestic peaks are located. Fleeing grim political, economic and social conditions, they stream every month into neighboring Sudan, which is known for its open-door policy on refugees.
With most camps located in Eastern Sudan, most refugees opt to settle in camps situated in the state of Kassala, while some relocate to Khartoum in pursuit of employment and better opportunities. For many of them, Eastern Sudan is merely the first among many stops in a lengthy migration process and is no more than a transitory route to freedom.

The First Arrivals and the New Influx

Up until 2004, Sudan hosted over one million refugees who came during the First Eritrean Civil War in the 1970’s. Over the years, many of the displaced Eritreans either returned to their homelands, or moved on to other neighboring countries. Those who were left behind or chose to remain – numbering around 60,000 refugees, with 60% of them being children – re-built their lives in refugee camps and successfully integrated into the surrounding community. Their integration came naturally as they share the same background as the Sudanese locals, speak the same language and practice the same religion – Islam. Along with their children, who were born in Eastern Sudan, these refugees consider themselves to be authentic Sudanese.

Since 2005, another wave of refugees have been introduced to the region. The Shegerab Refugee Camp, often referred to as ‘Little Eritrea’, is a camp that sits at the end of an unpaved road in Eastern Sudan, and receives 1,600 to 1,800 new arrivals every month. The majority of these new arrivals are young and educated Eritreans, Ethiopians as well as Somalis between the age of 18-25 who flee military regimes and consider Sudan their launching pad towards a new life.

The rest come from the Eritrean Highlands and are Christians who do not speak Arabic and do not share the same background as the Sudanese people – and hence they do not encounter the same ease of integration as the first arrivals. They face difficulties blending in with the community, and shortly after their arrival they cross over to other countries like Egypt, the Middle East, Israel and Europe in a quest for acceptance and better opportunities.

Until recently, most of the refugees were young students and national service escapees. More recently, refugees include teachers, soldiers, civil servants, army commanders and professionals of all ages. Each one of them has horrific story to relate – stories of arrest, torture, witnessing the death of others, fear and escape. Not only are these stories brought into the camps, but sometimes the same realities are repeated too with arrests, robbery, rape, violence and harsh living conditions all featuring in the daily lives in the camp.

The UNHCR and the Refugee Commission

For the last 40 years, UNHCR – the UN refugee agency - has been funding and providing most of the basic requirements at the refugee camps, including facilities such water, sanitation, schools, clinics and shelter.

“For the past 40 years, Sudan has been kind to refugees with its open-door policy. What we, the UNHCR do is step up our efforts together with the Sudanese Refugee Commission to grant refugees citizenship. Many of them have been living in Sudan for decades and their children were born here... they feel Sudanese, they behave Sudanese, they should be identified as Sudanese,” said Felix Ross, a Senior Protection Officer at the UNHCR in Kassala speaking to “Islamonline”.

“We believe refugees contribute a lot to the economy of Sudan. They often work as waiters and drivers, and the women take up jobs as housemaids. They are part of the economy here, and a lot of them are young, intelligent and educated,” he added.

Compared to that of exercising one’s right of return, Sudanization it seems is the better alternative. Refugees who flee in order to escape National Service (i.e. military service which is mandatory on men and women), and political repression are often subjected to imprisonment, life imprisonment and may even face death upon their return. The UNHCR and the Sudanese government have expressed the view that the penalty accorded to returnees is unproportional to the act and identify it as a human rights violation; and therefore acknowledge their status as refugees.

Another phenomenon that has been on the rise lately is the abduction of refugees, who cross over to Khartoum. These abductions are carried out by smugglers who are heavily armed criminal groups, who often abduct the refugees and demand ransoms ranging from $1,000 to $10,000 from the refugees’ relatives. Hostages are mistreated, beaten and threatened, and the women are raped. They are also often killed.

“We see such cases 20-30 times a month, but we believe we only see the tip of the iceberg” said Ross to “Islamonline” and added, “It has become an industry for these criminal groups to make a lot of money out of these abductions, and we are trying our best to combat them”.

In addition to UNHCR, the Sudanese Refugee Commission offers numerous services to refugees. Funded by the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), it provides them with aid such as medical assistance and scholarship programs.

In the capital

In the capital Khartoum, thousands of refugees are packed into the popular neighborhoods of Al-Daim, Al-Gireif and Al-Sahafa. They do odd jobs and many of the young women make a living, cleaning houses.

Abdelrahman drives an amjaad (local rental cab) around Khartoum to make ends meet. “I came from Eritrea 10 years ago because I didn’t want to enroll in the army. If the government allowed us to continue our education and have jobs I would never have left. I do okay in Khartoum and there’s a large community of Eritreans here, but I’m just waiting for the arrival of a new regime in Eritrea so I can go back and see my family. I miss them,” Abdelrahman said to “Islamonline”.

F.A. was a police officer in Ethiopia, but he fled to Sudan in 1995 due to problems with the regime. He is now living and working in Khartoum. “I have a good job and a good life compared to other refugees. I consider myself very lucky. I went into exile because of the military regime in my country. Ethiopia claims to be a peaceful and democratic country, it does not even recognize that there are so many Ethiopian refugees around the world,” he told “Islamonline”.

“Generally I feel protected, but I feel the Sudanese people are the ones protecting me and my people, not the government, not the UNHCR or any other organization. Sudan is my home, I feel very comfortable here even though it is very difficult for me to be away from my family. It has been 16 years since I left, and I am waiting for an opportunity to arise for me to go back. If I return now, I will be considered a political criminal and will be persecuted for deserting the military,” he remarked.

This article was first published on IslamOnline.net

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