A Flesh in Palo Alto, a Soul in Khartoum
Khartoum: the story of harmonious convergence
Khartoum, the city where the renowned River Nile takes its initial form, tells a tale of two rivers. The Blue Nile, originating from Lake Tana to the East of Sudan, converges with the White Nile, which begins its journey from Lake Victoria to the south of Sudan. Conventionally, when two rivers meet, one tends to dominate the other. However, Khartoum tells a unique story as the Blue Nile and the White Nile arrive at their confluence on equal footing, both in stature and nomenclature.
In this meeting of waters, the Blue Nile and the White Nile maintain their individual significance, yet in harmony. At this point, their names undergo a transformation, and for thousands of kilometers to come, passing north through Egypt until they reach the Mediterranean Sea, they merge into the singular entity known as the Nile, or in Arabic, “Bahr El-nil = the Nile Sea” or “Nahr El-nil”. In Sudan and Egypt, the term (El-nil) refers to this river that traverses both of them, being a crucial source of life, and an enduring symbol of the history.
Khartoum, situated at this geographical point, becomes a symbolic representation of unity and parity. While the Blue Nile is known to Sudanese for its turbulence, the White Nile, is characterized by its calm and steady flow. Having these contrasting temperaments, they undertake a shared journey as partners in creating the Ancient Nile toward the Mediterranean. The confluence of the Blue Nile and the White Nile in Khartoum stands not only as a geographical phenomenon but also as a testament to the coexistence of diverse forces, creating a singular force that will continue to shape the land and narrative of the Nile for ages to come.
Suaad: Beyond Grandmother, a Tapestry of Memories
Suaad, a name echoing across many regions of Sudan, takes on a distinctive significance in the narrative I tell here. She is not just any Suaad; she is my grandmother, the matriarch with whom my brother and I shared our formative years.
In her yard, furnished with metallic beds similar to those found in numerous Sudanese households, Suaad cultivated a space of familial warmth. Every afternoon, she came out from her room, a room steeped in time, and into the yard, patiently awaiting our company as we came back from school or work. The room itself, a collection of memories, boasts a roof and walls crafted from the same wood that goes back to the days of her father, an era predating the departure of British colonizers from what would later be recognized as Sudan.
This room, where I spent my childhood and beyond, holds a table that has witnessed over seven decades of shared meals, a testament to the strong ties that bind generations. Suaad’s legacy transcends familial roles; she embodies a living archive of personal history, rooted in a time before geopolitical shifts and colonial legacies left their mark on the land.
Born and raised in a small island in the heart of Khartoum, Suaad’s roots intertwine with the exact location where the Blue and White Niles converge to give birth to the River Nile. This island, Tuti, is embraced by the joining of the rivers, bordered by the “Three Towns”: Khartoum, Omdurman, and Khartoum Bahri (my hometown). Despite its proximity to urban hubs, Tuti stands as an exemplification of simplicity and traditional life, with its grasslands and traditional houses defining the island’s landscape.
Notably, Tuti has earned recognition as one of eight communities worldwide honored as Champions of Disaster Risk Reduction by the UN Office for Disaster Risk Reduction (UNDRR). The island faces the annual onslaught of floods unleashed by the encircling Nile. Yet, Tuti’s resilience is shown through traditional flood warning systems and collective efforts to control the water flow, ensuring minimal loss of life during major flood events for hundreds of years. In the face of adversity, Suaad’s connection to Tuti brings a meaningful illustration of the island’s ability to navigate the challenges posed by its geographical context.
Suaad of Tuti, beyond being a grandmother, embodies a living link to a community marked by fortitude, community bonds, and an enduring connection to the ebb and flow of the Nile. The island, with its humble village, stands as a sign of resilience in the face of nature’s challenges, a story mirrored in Suaad’s life as she personifies the spirit of Tuti.
The morning of April 15th
On April 15th, 2023, while I, the granddaughter of Suaad, studying in the Bay Area west of the US, on the beautiful campus of Stanford, my family awoke to the unsettling sounds of conflict through their city. In a world over nine hours ahead, I grappled with the ongoing crisis, dedicating hours to scrolling through social media for updates.
As the Rapid Support Forces militia (RSF) clashed with the Sudanese army, what seemed like hours turned into days, then months. Panic set in as reports surfaced of RSF soldiers forcefully occupying civilian homes. My family, deeply rooted in our ancestral town of Bahri, resisted leaving their home, a tangible link to their identity.
Despite my attempts to focus on my studies, the haunting images of my family facing violence and forced eviction persisted. Panic attacks, declining health, and sleepless nights became my companions as the uncertainty about their fate became visible.
The tipping point arrived when RSF soldiers invaded our relatives’ and neighbors’ homes, forcing them out at gunpoint. The stark reality that staying was untenable dawned on my family; they had to abandon their home and country to survive. [ 1, 2, 3]
Now scattered across different locations, my family struggles to rebuild. Meanwhile, international entities issue carefully worded statements about human rights and democratic transitions in Sudan, conveniently overlooking the deliberate displacement and suffering inflicted upon my family by a well-supported militia. Reports detailing some regional military support to the RSF facilitated through neighboring countries, further highlight the complexities of the situation. Despite this, there is a resounding silence in Khartoum, where people endure eight months without access to clean water, a story yet to be told by the media.
In the Wake of Darkness: Unraveling Humanitarian Crisis in Sudan
As the RSF militia extends its reign of terror beyond Khartoum, recently targeting Wad Medini, Sudan’s second-largest city with a population exceeding 6 million, the already dire situation intensifies. Displaced individuals from Khartoum sought refuge in Wad Medini, believing it to be a safe refuge devoid of military and government targets. Unfortunately, their hopes were shattered as the militia seized control, unleashing threats, looting homes, and confiscating money and vehicles. Forced to flee once more, those seeking safety face a grim reality — nowhere seems secure, as the militia’s reach expands relentlessly.
A looming humanitarian crisis and food insecurity cast a dark shadow over Sudan, exacerbated by the RSF militia’s assault on El-Gezira state, known as the “breadbasket of Sudan.” This region, integral to the country’s sustenance for the past 70 years, now grapples with the destructive aftermath of attacks and displacement. The agricultural sector, already strained by labor shortages due to widespread displacement, faces further challenges with rising fuel costs. Shortcomings in Sudan’s harvest season threaten to escalate food prices, compounding the dilemma of a population already struggling to meet basic needs.
Public infrastructure, including the fragile health system, bears the brunt of the crisis. Medical facilities and hospitals suffer repeated attacks, looting, and occupation, leaving them deprived of staff, funding, and essential supplies. The consequences ripple through communities as healthcare accessibility deteriorates.
Education, a cornerstone of societal development, lies in a state of chaos as all schools, colleges, and universities remain closed nationwide. Children, the future of Sudan, find themselves without the means to pursue knowledge, trapped in a cycle of uncertainty.
In the face of this level of adversity, Sudan grapples not only with the immediate impact of violence but also with the long-term consequences that threaten to reshape the fabric of its society.
To Suaad: A Beacon in the Shadows of Uncertainty
As we, the descendants of Suaad, find ourselves navigating through these challenging times, she emerges not merely as my grandmother but as a symbol of history and identity, transcending the boundaries of familial ties, and becoming a guiding light. In the face of darkness and uncertainty, where the specter of enduring poverty and uprootedness casts its shadow, I am left to ponder: is Suaad watching over us?
Is she, in her timeless realm, offering prayers for our well-being? Are tears shed for the trials we face, or is there a quiet anger at the perceived loss of our ancestral home? Does she perceive us as victims of circumstance, or does she, with a discerning gaze, question our roles in the unfolding destruction? These questions linger, suspended in that space between past and present, as we grapple with the complexities of the situation.
In these moments of reflection, I wonder if the narrative of our present, intricately interwoven with the threads of the past she represents, prompts contemplation about our shared responsibilities and the impact of our collective choices on the legacy she left behind.
To Suaad, not only a grandmother but an continuous presence, your spirit resonates through these challenging times, urging us to navigate it with resilience, introspection, and a steady connection to our heritage.
