From Sudan to Myanmar… Five Forgotten Conflicts of 2024

Soldiers from the Armed Forces of the DRC dig trenches at a frontline military position above the town of Kibirizi, controlled by the M23 rebellion, North Kivu province, eastern DR Congo, on May 14, 2024 (AFP)
Soldiers from the Armed Forces of the DRC dig trenches at a frontline military position above the town of Kibirizi, controlled by the M23 rebellion, North Kivu province, eastern DR Congo, on May 14, 2024 (AFP)
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From Sudan to Myanmar… Five Forgotten Conflicts of 2024

Soldiers from the Armed Forces of the DRC dig trenches at a frontline military position above the town of Kibirizi, controlled by the M23 rebellion, North Kivu province, eastern DR Congo, on May 14, 2024 (AFP)
Soldiers from the Armed Forces of the DRC dig trenches at a frontline military position above the town of Kibirizi, controlled by the M23 rebellion, North Kivu province, eastern DR Congo, on May 14, 2024 (AFP)

In addition to the two wars in the Mideast and Ukraine-Russia that have dominated world headlines in 2024, several other conflicts are ravaging countries and regions, AFP revealed in a report on Wednesday.

Sudan

War has raged in Sudan since April 2023 between the Sudanese army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF).

The conflict, considered by the UN as one of the world's worst humanitarian crises, has left between 20,000 and 150,000 thousands dead and some 26 million people -- around half of Sudan's population -- facing severe food insecurity.

Also, escalating violence has pushed the humanitarian crisis to unprecedented levels, with displacement now exceeding 11 million people.

Both sides have been accused of war crimes, including targeting civilians and blocking humanitarian aid.

In October the UN alerted the “staggering scale” of sexual violence rampant since the start of the conflict.

Democratic Republic of Congo

The mineral-rich region of eastern Democratic Republic of Congo, home to a string of rival rebel groups, has endured internal and cross-border violence for over 30 years.

Since launching an offensive in 2021, a largely Tutsi militia known as the March 23 movement or M23 -- named after a previous peace agreement -- has seized large swathes of territory.

The resurgence of M23 has intensified a decades-long humanitarian disaster in the region caused by conflicts, epidemics and poverty, notably in the province of North Kivu.

In early August, Angola mediated a fragile truce that stabilized the situation at the front line.

But since the end of October, the M23 has been on the march again, and continues to carry out localized offensives.

Despite violations of the ceasefire, the DRC and Rwanda are maintaining diplomatic dialogue through Angola's mediation.

Early in November, the two central African neighbors launched a committee to monitor ceasefire violations, led by Angola and including representatives from both the DRC and Rwanda.

Sahel

In Africa's volatile Sahel region, Islamist groups, rebel outfits and armed gangs rule the roost.

In Nigeria in 2009 Boko Haram, one of the main militant organizations in the Sahel region, launched an insurgency that left more than 40,000 people dead and displaced two million.

Boko Haram has since spread to neighboring countries in West Africa.

For example, the vast expanse of water and swamps in the Lake Chad region's countless islets serve as hideouts for Boko Haram and its offshoot ISIS in West Africa (ISWAP), who carry out regular attacks on the country's army and civilians.

Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger also face persistent militant attacks, while any opposition to the military-led governments is repressed.

Since January, extremist attacks have caused nearly 7,000 civilian and military deaths in Burkina Faso, more than 1,500 in Niger and more than 3,600 in Mali, according to Acled -- an NGO which collects data on violent conflict.

Haiti

The situation in Haiti, already dire after decades of chronic political instability, escalated further at the end of February when armed groups launched coordinated attacks in the capital, saying they wanted to overthrow then-prime minister Ariel Henry.

Since then, gangs now control 80% of the capital Port-au-Prince and despite a Kenyan-led police support mission, backed by the US and UN, violence has continued to soar.

In November the UN said the verified casualty toll of the gang violence so far this year was 4,544 dead and the real toll, it stressed, “is likely higher still.”

Particularly violent acts target women and girls, and victims have been mutilated with machetes, stoned, decapitated, burned or buried alive.

More than 700,000 people have fled the horror, half of them children, according to the International Organization for Migration.

A Kenyan-led Multinational Security Support Mission for Haiti, backed by the United Nations Security Council and Washington, began deployment this summer.

Myanmar

The Southeast Asian nation has been gripped in a bloody conflict since 2021 when the military ousted the democratically elected government led by Nobel laureate Aung Sang Suu Kyi, who has been detained by the junta since the coup.

A bitter civil war has followed causing the death of more than 5,300 people and the displacement of some 3.3 million, according to the UN.

The military has faced growing resistance from rebel groups across the country.

In recent months, rebels attacked Mandalay, the country's second-largest city, and took control of the key road linking Myanmar with China -- its main trading partner -- and in doing so deprived the junta of a key source of revenue.



Childhood Cancer Patients in Lebanon Must Battle Disease while Under Fire

Mohammad Mousawi, 8, a displaced boy from the southern suburb of Beirut who suffers from leukaemia, steps out the entrance of the Children's Cancer Center of Lebanon, in Beirut, Lebanon, Friday, Nov. 15, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
Mohammad Mousawi, 8, a displaced boy from the southern suburb of Beirut who suffers from leukaemia, steps out the entrance of the Children's Cancer Center of Lebanon, in Beirut, Lebanon, Friday, Nov. 15, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
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Childhood Cancer Patients in Lebanon Must Battle Disease while Under Fire

Mohammad Mousawi, 8, a displaced boy from the southern suburb of Beirut who suffers from leukaemia, steps out the entrance of the Children's Cancer Center of Lebanon, in Beirut, Lebanon, Friday, Nov. 15, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
Mohammad Mousawi, 8, a displaced boy from the southern suburb of Beirut who suffers from leukaemia, steps out the entrance of the Children's Cancer Center of Lebanon, in Beirut, Lebanon, Friday, Nov. 15, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)

Carol Zeghayer gripped her IV as she hurried down the brightly lit hallway of Beirut’s children’s cancer center. The 9-year-old's face brightened when she spotted her playmates from the oncology ward.

Diagnosed with cancer just months before the conflict between Hezbollah and Israel erupted in October 2023, Carol relies on weekly trips to the center in the Lebanese capital for treatment.

But what used to be a 90-minute drive, now takes up to three hours on a mountainous road to skirt the heavy bombardment in south Lebanon, but still not without danger from Israeli airstrikes. The family is just one among many across Lebanon now grappling with the hardships of both illness and war.

“She’s just a child. When they strike, she asks me, ‘Mama, was that far?’” said her mother, Sindus Hamra, The AP reported.

The family lives in Hasbaya, a province in southeastern Lebanon where the rumble of Israeli airstrikes has become part of daily life. Just 15 minutes away from their home, in the front-line town of Khiam, Israeli troops and Hezbollah fighters clash amidst relentless bombardments.

On the morning of a recent trip to Beirut for her treatment, the family heard a rocket roar and its deafening impact as they left their home. Israeli airstrikes have also hit vehicles along the Damascus-Beirut highway, which Carol and her mother have to cross.

The bombardment hasn’t let up even as hopes grew in recent days that a ceasefire might soon be agreed.

More than war, Hamra fears that Carol will miss chemotherapy.

“Her situation is very tricky — her cancer can spread to her head,” Hamra said, her eyes filling with tears. Her daughter, diagnosed first with cancer of the lymph nodes and later leukemia, has completed a third of her treatment, with many months still ahead.

While Carol's family remains in their home, many in Lebanon have been displaced by an intensified Israeli bombardment that began in late September. Tens of thousands fled their homes in southern and eastern Lebanon, as well as Beirut’s southern suburbs — among them were families with children battling cancer.

The Children’s Cancer Center of Lebanon quickly identified each patient’s location to ensure treatments remained uninterrupted, sometimes facilitating them at hospitals closer to the families' new locations, said Zeina El Chami, the center’s fundraising and events executive.

During the first days of the escalation, the center admitted some patients for emergency care and kept them there as it was unsafe to send them home, said Dolly Noun, a pediatric hematologist and oncologist.

“They had no place to go,” she added. "We’ve had patients getting admitted for panic attacks. It has not been easy.”

The war has not only deepened the struggles of young patients.

“Many physicians have had to relocate,” Noun said. “I know physicians, who work here, who haven’t seen their parents in like six weeks because the roads are very dangerous.”

Since 2019, Lebanon has been battered by cascading crises — economic collapse, the devastating Beirut port explosion in 2020, and now a relentless war — leaving institutions like the cancer center struggling to secure the funds needed to save lives.

“Cancer waits for no one,” Chami said. The crises have affected the center’s ability to hold fundraising events in recent years, leaving it in urgent need of donations, she added.

The facility is currently treating more than 400 patients aged from few days to 18 years old, Chami said. It treats around 60% of children with cancer in Lebanon.

For Carol, the war is sometimes a topic of conversation with her friends at the cancer center. Her mother hears her recount hearing the booms and how the house shook.

For others, the moments with their friends in the center's playroom provide a brief escape from the grim reality outside.

Eight-year-old Mohammad Mousawi darts around the playroom, giggling as he hides objects and books for his playmate to find. Too absorbed by the game, he barely answers questions, before the nurse calls him for his weekly chemotherapy treatment.

His family lived in Ghobeiry, a neighborhood in Beirut’s southern suburbs. Their house was marked for destruction in an Israeli evacuation warning weeks ago, his mother said.

“But till now, they haven’t struck it,” said his mother, Suzan Mousawi. “They have hit (buildings) around it — two behind it and two in front of it.”

The family has relocated three times. They first moved to the mountains, but the bitter cold weakened Mohammad’s already fragile immune system.

Now they’ve settled in Ain el-Rummaneh, not far from their home in the southern Beirut suburbs known as Dahiyeh, which has come under significant bombardment. As the Israeli military widened the radius of its bombardment, some buildings hit were less than 500 meters (yards) from their current home.

The Mousawis have lived their entire lives in Dahiyeh, Suzan Mousawi said, until the war uprooted them. Her parents’ home was bombed. “All our memories are gone,” she said.

Mohammad has 15 weeks of treatment left, and his family is praying it will be successful. But the war has stolen some of their dreams.

“When Mohammad fell ill, we bought a house,” she said. “It wasn’t big, but it was something. I bought him an electric scooter and set up a pool, telling myself we’d take him there once he finishes treatment.”

She fears the house, bought with every penny she had saved, could be lost at any moment.

For some families, this kind of conflict is not new. Asinat Al Lahham, a 9-year-old patient of the cancer center, is a refugee whose family fled Syria.

“We escaped one war to another,” Asinat’s mother, Fatima, added.

As her father, Aouni, drove home from her chemotherapy treatment weeks ago, an airstrike happened. He cranked up the music in the car, trying to drown out the deafening sound of the attack.

Asinat sat in the back seat, clutching her favorite toy. “I wanted to distract her, to make her hear less of it,” he said.

In the medical ward on a recent day, Asinat sat in a chair hooked to an IV drip, negotiating with her doctor. “Just two or three small pinches,” she pleaded, asking for flavoring for her instant noodles that she is not supposed to have.

“I don’t feel safe ... nowhere is safe ... not Lebanon, not Syria, not Palestine,” Asinat said. “The sonic booms are scary, but the noodles make it better,” she added with a mischievous grin.

The family has no choice but to stay in Lebanon. Returning to Syria, where their home is gone, would mean giving up Asinat’s treatment.

“We can’t leave here,” her mother said. “This war, her illness ... it’s like there’s no escape.”