Even in Khartoum, where there is no longer fighting, the humanitarian situation is dire.
I recently visited Khartoum for the first time since the war started. It quickly became clear to me that the world still doesn’t fully comprehend what has happened there. In the streets of Sudan’s capital, the destruction was apocalyptic. A city that used to have a population of 7 million seemed almost empty as we drove through its districts.
The buildings were almost all destroyed or partially flattened by shelling and air attacks, while those left standing were riddled with bullet holes. I had never seen this scale of destruction before in my 30 years of working with Islamic Relief.
The difficulty in accessing many areas, and the sense that this a complicated war in a faraway place, means the crisis has not received anywhere near the international attention it needs.
There are more than 58,000 recorded deaths so far, but there are estimates that as many as 150,000 may have been killed. It is hard to track casualty numbers when the country’s infrastructure lies in ruins and millions of people are displaced.
People are not just dying from violence but from disease and starvation. There have been repeated outbreaks of cholera, viral hepatitis, meningitis, yellow fever, and other infectious diseases. The war has created the world’s biggest hunger crisis, where 29 million people, 62 percent of the population, now don’t have enough food. And famine continues to spread.
Local community kitchens run by volunteers are at the heart of the fight to stop famine, but they urgently need more support. Islamic Relief recently conducted research that found 42 percent of the 844 surveyed kitchens across the country have shut down in the last six months due to a lack of funds and supplies.
Now the US-Israel war on Iran is choking supply chains and exacerbating Sudan’s hunger crisis, with food and fuel prices doubling and pushing even more families into hunger.
In the western regions of Darfur and Kordofan, people continue fleeing horrific atrocities: Drone attacks on hospitals and schools, towns under siege, villages burned down, and aid convoys bombed. I am in awe of our staff there who continue to work in such extreme conditions and help the displaced as much as they can. And yet, there is still so much need that is not met.
Even in Khartoum and the east of the country, where there are improvements in security and displaced families have started going back to their communities, the situation is bad.
At least 1.3 million people have returned to the capital only to find a disaster: Severe food shortages, few jobs, and almost no service provision. Poverty is desperate and widespread, as the war has shattered the economy.
Some 200 schools are out of operation in Khartoum alone, now either destroyed or sheltering displaced families, so returning children have nowhere to restart their education. Hospitals that haven’t been destroyed have been looted and are only partially operational. Electricity is only available for a few hours a day.
Our Islamic Relief team in Khartoum is helping to rebuild schools and health facilities, delivering and providing people with psychosocial support for the trauma they have experienced. But the scale of need is immense and difficult to match.
I met many survivors with terrible stories. One woman, Ayesha, told me how four of her sons were killed by warring factions. She carried her grandchildren for five days to reach a camp for displaced people in the eastern Sudanese city of Gadarif. Everyone I met had their own similar stories of loss and dangerous journeys.
People are still afraid that the fragile improvements in the capital will collapse as the war continues. In the past month, fighting has intensified in several states, while Khartoum has been hit by drone attacks.
For many people, the greatest fear now is that the unending war in the west of the country will result in Sudan, one of the largest countries in Africa, splitting in two.
Last month, world leaders met in Berlin for a major conference to mark the third anniversary of the war. But once again, there was little concrete progress towards the diplomatic breakthrough that is needed to bring sustainable peace and protect civilians.
It is vital that international governments urgently step up political efforts to get a ceasefire, support stability and local response groups, and ensure that humanitarian aid can reach everyone in need. Tragically, there are many resources coming from abroad that fuel the war rather than help resolve it.
What the Sudanese people I met want most is for the war to end, to go back to their homes, and to live in dignity and without fear. It should not be too much to ask.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.
Facts Only
* Recorded deaths are estimated between 58,000 and 150,000.
* Food shortages affect 29 million people, 62 percent of whom lack enough food.
* Infectious diseases such as cholera, viral hepatitis, meningitis, and yellow fever have caused repeated outbreaks.
* Drone attacks targeted hospitals, schools, and aid convoys in Darfur and Kordofan.
* 42 percent of 844 surveyed community kitchens shut down in the last six months due to lack of funds and supplies.
* At least 1.3 million people have returned to Khartoum facing severe food shortages and lack of services.
* Out of 200 schools in Khartoum, some are either destroyed or shelter displaced families.
* Hospitals that were not destroyed have been looted and are partially operational.
* Survivors reported loss of family members and dangerous journeys.
* World leaders met in Berlin to mark the third anniversary of the war.
Executive Summary
Full Take
The narrative effectively frames the Sudanese crisis as an overwhelming catastrophe of destruction and starvation, which is then linked to the perceived failure of international attention and diplomacy. The emphasis on the scale of physical devastation (apocalyptic destruction of Khartoum) and the compounding nature of the suffering (violence, disease, famine) serves to establish a moral imperative for intervention. This framing utilizes the human element—personal stories of loss and suffering—to create an immediate emotional bridge to the abstract political failure.
The pattern detected is Emotional exploitation: fear appeals and moral panic, leveraging images of physical devastation and starvation to incite urgency and demand political action. This pattern is used to shift focus from the geopolitical causes of the war (which the text implicitly acknowledges) to the immediate, tangible needs of the victims.
The underlying paradigm is the assumption that inaction is morally untenable, requiring immediate political resolution. The narrative places the burden of responsibility squarely on international governments to cease fueling the war and ensure aid access, suggesting that the current suffering is directly linked to external geopolitical machinations (e.g., the US-Israel war). This framing risks distracting from the complex, internal dynamics of the conflict and the structural reasons why aid and diplomatic efforts have been insufficient.
Implications for agency and dignity center on the gap between acknowledged suffering and effective global response. The emphasis on the failure of diplomacy suggests a pattern of systemic neglect where humanitarian necessity is subordinated to broader political interests. This raises the question: If the focus remains on immediate relief and stopping violence, what are the long-term mechanisms required to rebuild the trust and stability necessary for sustainable peace? What structural changes are needed to prevent humanitarian crises from being consistently categorized as mere consequences of war rather than immediate, actionable policy failures?
Sentinel — Human
The text exhibits strong human stylistic fingerprints through rich anecdotal narrative and a highly personalized, impassioned tone, suggesting it is human-authored, possibly by a journalist or aid worker.