In the hushed tones of a crisis that should never have happened, a harrowing scene unfolded at the Zamzam refugee camp in North Darfur. It was here, amidst makeshift shelters and the ever-looming specter of uncertainty, that Sudan’s paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) launched a ruthless assault. Amidst the acrid smoke of burning debris, the Strategic Initiative for Women in the Horn of Africa reported an appalling death toll—at least 112 souls, extinguished.
In any humanitarian tragedy, numbers speak louder than words, and yet, they still fall silent to the screams of humanity. This grim episode had victims whose stories were cut short—volunteer workers dedicated to alleviating the suffering within these haphazard settlements. Among them, a pregnant woman, whose lifestory and that of her unborn child ended on that fateful Friday. Could words ever sufficiently convey our shared rage and sorrow for these innocents?
It is in these bleak headlines that organizations like the Sudan INGO Forum, an assembly of over 70 humanitarian agencies, find their purpose and their heartbreak. Their latest reports state the unpalatable truth: over 20 children were caught in the crossfire or deliberately targeted in this latest atrocity. “Civilians are being starved, slaughtered, and prevented from fleeing. Aid workers and local volunteer responders are being hunted,” their Saturday statement lamented. The language they use is chilling—and sadly, necessary.
International law, designed as it is to protect those unable to protect themselves, seems a fragile construct against the helm of violence. Here, it falters yet again, as pointed out by the coalition with an earnest plea for justice. Those who had taken refuge in the shades of Zamzam—over 500,000 refugees, or possibly nearing a million according to other estimates—face a siege on not just their homes but their very existence.
El Fasher, the capital of North Darfur and in proximity to the camp, has borne witness to these dark clouds for nearly a year. The RSF has executed its military bravado, railing against the Sudanese army, as the civilians continue to get caught in the storm. The United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) persists in their agonizing tally—the conflict has claimed or maimed over 140 children in El Fasher in just the last quarter.
What fuels these flames of discord in Sudan? A bloody power struggle dances in the eye of the storm, spinning nearly two years now. At its core—Abdel-Fattah al-Burhan, the de facto ruler, juxtaposed against his erstwhile deputy, Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, leader of the RSF. This turbulence has not just taken lives but displaced the substance of life itself—over 12.5 million individuals have been uprooted, forced to seek elusive refuge.
These stories crack open the façade of global conscience. What is our duty as international citizens, if not to heed these crisis calls and respond with both urgency and compassion?
As we ponder these events, we are left with a call to action. Not merely in protest or outrage but in the arduous, often bureaucratic path of humanitarian aid. Every donation, policy shift, or word spoken in solidarity is a step toward restoring humanity’s shattered mirror.
In moments like these, I recall a poignant phrase often muttered in times of trial: “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” And it is in this space of empathy that we must dwell, pushing for change, advocating from our corners of the world so that these headlines one day fade not into memory but into a distant, inconceivable past.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International–Monitoring
