Six Months into War, Sudanese Seek Refuge outside Chaotic Capital

Smoke rises over Khartoum, Sudan, on June 8, 2023, as fighting between the Sudanese army and paramilitary Rapid Support Forces continues. (AP)
Smoke rises over Khartoum, Sudan, on June 8, 2023, as fighting between the Sudanese army and paramilitary Rapid Support Forces continues. (AP)
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Six Months into War, Sudanese Seek Refuge outside Chaotic Capital

Smoke rises over Khartoum, Sudan, on June 8, 2023, as fighting between the Sudanese army and paramilitary Rapid Support Forces continues. (AP)
Smoke rises over Khartoum, Sudan, on June 8, 2023, as fighting between the Sudanese army and paramilitary Rapid Support Forces continues. (AP)

Six months after tensions between rival Sudanese generals ignited a devastating war, thousands lie dead, millions are displaced, and the once-thriving capital, Khartoum, is a shadow of its past glory.

When the first bombs fell on April 15, the capital's residents looked on in terror as entire neighborhoods were razed and essential services were paralyzed, exacerbating their misery.

Those who could escape the bloodshed and destruction rushed to the Red Sea coast about 1,000 kilometers (621 miles) to the east.

Port Sudan, now home to Sudan's only functioning airport, became a sanctuary for fleeing civilians and a transit hub for foreigners leaving the northeast African country.

Its rows of white colonial buildings were quickly filled with those who left Khartoum, including United Nations staff and government officials setting up makeshift offices.

In late August, they were joined by army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, whose fighters are pitted against those of his former deputy Mohamed Hamdan Daglo, commander of the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in the conflict.

Burhan, the de facto leader of Sudan since leading a 2021 coup, had spent over four months stuck inside the army headquarters in Khartoum, besieged by Daglo's men.

But even though he has left Khartoum, there has been no let-up in fighting for the capital, as well as the western region of Darfur, where allegations of ethnically motivated attacks have led to an international war crimes investigation.

The United Nations' Human Rights Council voted Wednesday to set up an independent fact-finding mission to probe the accusations.

'Life doesn't stop'

Despite the exodus, millions of people have had little choice but to stay in Khartoum, where their bullet-scarred homes are shaken by daily blasts.

A constant plume of smoke now defines the capital's skyline, while businesses and warehouses lie abandoned, ransacked, and charred.

Before the war, the capital's three districts -- Khartoum, Omdurman and Khartoum North -- were the center of power, infrastructure and industry in the country of 48 million people.

"The war has shown just how much Khartoum had monopolized everything, (and) that's why the banks, the companies and all government stopped working," said urban planner Tarek Ahmed.

But economic analyst Omaima Khaled said that did not mean life had come to a halt.

With no end to the war in sight, "there had to be somewhere else where people's affairs could be managed," she said, and the obvious choice was Port Sudan -- a safe and well-connected city.

"It's first of all geographically far from the war," said Khaled, with fighting mainly taking place in the capital and the western region of Darfur.

It also has a long history of being "Sudan's second largest commercial center," she said, which could "very well make it an economic capital".

But Port Sudan has one crucial flaw: "it's 3,000 kilometers from the country's western border and 2,500 kilometers from its south, in a country that severely lacks an efficient transport network," said the economist.

Sudan's dilapidated road network is as highly centralized as the economy. Avoiding the war-torn capital requires massive circuitous routes around a country three times the size of France.

But the problems do not stop there, according to Port Sudan resident Hend Saleh.

"There's a shortage of drinking water and electricity," she told AFP, with the coastal town's already fragile infrastructure now catering to tens of thousands more.

Port Sudan -- founded in 1905 by British rulers to replace the historic port of Suakin, 60 kilometers away -- "is newer than other Sudanese cities and has a better urban plan and a better service network," according to engineer Fathi Yassin.

But it is burdened by the same shortfalls as the rest of Sudan, where decades of dilapidated infrastructure are adding to the immense impact of war.

Sudan's rainy season, which begins in June, has wreaked havoc on vast swathes of the country, with hundreds dying of cholera and dengue fever while 70 percent of hospitals remain out of service, the United Nations has said.

War spreading south

Unlike other Sudanese cities that draw water from the Nile, Port Sudan relies almost entirely on increasingly unpredictable rainfall.

Its residents have long demanded a connection to the river, which would require 500 kilometers of pipes -- an expense Sudan, already one of the poorest countries in the world before the war, has never been able to afford.

Closer to the Nile, the city of Wad Madani -- 200 kilometers south of Khartoum -- has also emerged as a potential capital.

Wad Madani, the capital Al Jazira state in the fertile heartland south of Khartoum, was the first destination for fleeing Khartoum families in the early weeks of the war.

The state now hosts more than 366,000 displaced people, in a thin string of villages between Khartoum and Wad Madani, as well as the state capital itself.

Interim governor Ismail Awadallah said the city also looked set to absorb more of the economy, with "17 large companies discussing their relocation and even expansion in Wad Madani".

But Wad Madani's economic potential might remain unfulfilled, as the fighting in Khartoum encroaches south.

Authorities on Wednesday announced paramilitaries had taken control of large areas of the Gezira agricultural scheme, only around 35 kilometers northwest of Wad Madani.



Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
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Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi

In the Mazzeh 86 neighborhood, west of the Syrian capital Damascus, the names of many shops, grocery stores, and public squares still serve as a reminder of the era of ousted Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and his late father, Hafez al-Assad.

This is evident in landmarks like the “Al-Hafez Restaurant,” one of the prominent features of this area. Squares such as “Al-Areen,” “Officers,” and “Bride of the Mountain” evoke memories of the buildings surrounding them, which once housed influential officials and high-ranking officers in intelligence and security agencies. These individuals instilled fear in Syrians for five decades until their historic escape on the night of the regime’s collapse last month.

In this neighborhood, the effects of Israeli bombing are clearly visible, as it was targeted multiple times. Meanwhile, its narrow streets and alleys were strewn with military uniforms abandoned by leaders who fled before military operations arrived and liberated the area from their grip on December 8 of last year.

Here, stark contradictions come to light during a tour by Asharq Al-Awsat in a district that, until recently, was largely loyal to the former president. Muaz, a 42-year-old resident of the area, recounts how most officers and security personnel shed their military uniforms and discarded them in the streets on the night of Assad’s escape.

He said: “Many of them brought down their weapons and military ranks in the streets and fled to their hometowns along the Syrian coast.”

Administratively part of Damascus, Mazzeh 86 consists of concrete blocks randomly built between the Mazzeh Western Villas area, the Mazzeh Highway, and the well-known Sheikh Saad commercial district. Its ownership originally belonged to the residents of the Mazzeh area in Damascus. The region was once agricultural land and rocky mountain terrain. The peaks extending toward Mount Qasioun were previously seized by the Ministry of Defense, which instructed security and army personnel to build homes there without requiring property ownership documents.

Suleiman, a 30-year-old shop owner, who sells white meat and chicken, hails from the city of Jableh in the coastal province of Latakia. His father moved to this neighborhood in the 1970s to work as an army assistant.

Suleiman says he hears the sound of gunfire every evening, while General Security patrols roam the streets “searching for remnants of the former regime and wanted individuals who refuse to surrender their weapons. We fear reprisals and just want to live in peace.”

He mentioned that prices before December 8 were exorbitant and beyond the purchasing power of Syrians, with the price of a kilogram of chicken exceeding 60,000 Syrian pounds and a carton of eggs reaching 75,000.

“A single egg was sold for 2,500 pounds, which is far beyond the purchasing power of any employee in the public or private sector,” due to low salaries and the deteriorating living conditions across the country,” Suleiman added.

On the sides of the roads, pictures of the fugitive president and his father, Hafez al-Assad, were torn down, while military vehicles were parked, awaiting instructions.

Maram, 46, who previously worked as a civilian employee in the Ministry of Defense, says she is waiting for the resolution of employment statuses for workers in army institutions. She stated: “So far, there are no instructions regarding our situation. The army forces and security personnel have been given the opportunity for settlement, but there is no talk about us.”

The neighborhood, in its current form, dates back to the 1980s when Rifaat al-Assad, the younger brother of former President Hafez al-Assad, was allowed to construct the “Defense Palace,” which was referred to as “Brigade 86.” Its location is the same area now known as Mazzeh Jabal 86.

The area is divided into two parts: Mazzeh Madrasa (School) and Mazzeh Khazan (Tank). The first takes its name from the first school built and opened in the area, while the second is named after the water tank that supplies the entire Mazzeh region.

Two sources from the Mazzeh Municipality and the Mukhtar’s office estimate the neighborhood’s current population at approximately 200,000, down from over 300,000 before Assad’s fall. Most residents originate from Syria’s coastal regions, followed by those from interior provinces like Homs and Hama. There was also a portion of Kurds who had moved from the Jazira region in northeastern Syria to live there, but most returned to their areas due to the security grip and after the “Crisis Cell” bombing that killed senior security officials in mid-2012.

Along the main street connecting Al-Huda Square to Al-Sahla Pharmacy, torn images of President Hafez al-Assad are visible for the first time in this area in five decades. On balconies and walls, traces of Bashar al-Assad’s posters remain, bearing witness to his 24-year era.