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At the first light of morning in the Sudanese town of Dilling, before her children wake up, Rayan Hammad picks up a watering can and heads towards her small home garden filled with seedlings of okra and rocket.
After a two-year siege that led to famine in Dilling, Hammad’s garden, known as a jubraka, has become more than a safety net: It is a vital source of food for her family, and a daily ritual that helps her endure the uncertainty of war.
“For me, simply entering the jubraka gives me a sense that life is still going on,” Hammad said. “When I see the plants growing each day, I feel hope, as if they are telling us that we are still capable of enduring, whatever the circumstances.”
The more than three-year war in Sudan – fought primarily between the national army (SAF) and the paramilitary-turned-rebel Rapid Support Forces (RSF) – has produced the world's largest humanitarian crisis, driving famine and displacing over 11 million people.
Hunger levels have been particularly severe in places like Dilling, in South Kordofan state, which the RSF and the allied SPLM-N group have subjected to brutal siege warfare – a tactic used to try and drive out the SAF and its allies.
As supplies have disappeared from markets, and fields outside of town have become too dangerous to work on, residents from Dilling and beyond say they have turned to their jubraka for essential fresh produce.
Though home gardens are nothing new in Sudan, the war has elevated their importance as a means of survival and as spaces for social solidarity and exchange, according to half a dozen people interviewed across the country.
Still, while the food produced has become invaluable, interviewees said their gardens alone have not been enough to stave off hunger, especially as conflict makes it difficult to access the seeds and farming tools needed to grow food.
“Today we need real support,” said Wahed Ahmed, a forestry and agriculture specialist in South Kordofan. “[Authorities should be] providing seeds, protecting trees, and helping displaced families establish new jubraka so they can become self-reliant.”
“A real lifeline”
Home gardens have long been part of Sudan’s rural landscape, providing fast-growing crops used in times of both prosperity and crisis, from ever-increasing climate shocks to periods of conflict.
In South Kordofan, Ahmed, the agriculture specialist, said people have relied on their home gardens for generations. He explained that crops contribute to food security while also providing a source of income, as surplus produce can be sold to help meet household needs.
Ahmed said the food harvested from kitchen gardens is diverse, including vegetables such as rocket and pumpkin leaves; grains and seeds like sorghum and peanuts; and fruit, including guavas, lemons, and pomegranates.
Hammad, who is 29, a university graduate, and a women’s rights activist, said her family in Dilling had long depended on their jubraka for food, especially since the quality of market produce is not always good.
But Hammad said their dependence increased as the Kordofan area – which sits between the RSF’s western stronghold in Darfur and the SAF’s main territory in central and eastern Sudan – became the epicentre of the war over the last year.
Drone strikes and shelling have made open-field farming increasingly dangerous, while disruption to supply chains has sent food prices soaring. As a result, Hammad said, their jubraka became “a real lifeline”.
“What grows in front of your house became more important than anything that you could buy from the market. That is when we realised the true value of the jubraka”.
A similar story was shared by Noray al-Din, 55, a widow supporting five children in southeastern Sennar state, a region currently controlled by the SAF but that faced brutal RSF offensives earlier in the conflict.
Al-Din said her family had a small jubraka before the war but relied mostly on markets for daily supplies. As food became harder to access, she said she expanded her garden and began planting a much wider range of vegetables.
“What grows in front of your house became more important than anything that you could buy from the market,” al-Din said. “That is when we realised the true value of the jubraka”.
Sammar Khater, 34, from Kernoi, a remote area of North Darfur state near the Chadian border, said her reliance on home gardening grew after the town’s market was hit by drone attacks believed to have been carried out by the RSF.
Khater said her family expanded their jubraka, planting okra, molokhia, rocket, pumpkin, tomatoes, and legumes. She said they also began exchanging any surplus with neighbours to obtain other necessities.
A communal space
Musab Ibrahim, 29, a humanitarian volunteer worker from Dilling, said the exchange of crops between neighbours has turned home gardens into communal places where people gather and support one another.
“It has become a space for social solidarity,” Ibrahim said, adding that it gives individuals and communities in Dilling hope amid the fear and hunger created by RSF sieges.
Hammad also said gardening fosters communal solidarity, reflecting a long-standing culture of cooperation that has shaped how communities across Sudan respond to hardship.
“It is a space where family and neighbours come together, share coffee, and divide the harvest when the time comes,” Hammad said. “During the siege, we used to give part of what we grew to families in need and to neighbours.”
“The jubraka makes us feel that life is still going on, and that despite the difficult times, there is still something we can produce. When we see the crops growing green amid the news of war and displacement, we feel a little hope.”
Khater said home gardens in Kernoi have also provided spaces for families to gather away from the constant pressure of war, and to have something tangible to care for every day.
“The jubraka makes us feel that life is still going on, and that despite the difficult times, there is still something we can produce,” Khater said. “When we see the crops growing green amid the news of war and displacement, we feel a little hope.”
While entire communities benefit from home gardens, interviewees said women have long been at the centre of tending them. They added that this role has expanded during the war as many men have been displaced, killed, or drawn into fighting.
“Women became responsible for the jubraka from start to finish,” said Noray from Sennar. “We plant, irrigate, fight pests, and harvest. Sometimes we spend long hours working, but we are at peace because we know it will feed our children.”
Dilling resident Amina Adam, whose name has been changed for security reasons, said her children have chipped in to help care for their garden after her husband, a soldier, left home because of the war.
“The jubraka is like a member of the family – it became a place where children gather and spend time,” she said. “Watching plants grow day by day gives me the feeling that life is still possible.”
Old seeds and water shortages
While the importance of kitchen gardens has grown immeasurably over the last three years, interviewees said sustaining them in the middle of a war has become increasingly difficult.
Repeated displacement has forced many families to abandon their homes, leaving large numbers of jubraka untended. Others have been damaged or destroyed by shelling and drone strikes.
Further challenges include limited fresh seeds – gardeners depend on old stock from before the war that have a much smaller yield – and a lack of water for irrigation.
“Most of the seeds available now have been stored for years because of the war,” said Hammad. “Their productivity is low and their prices are high, and many families have no guarantee they will germinate after purchasing them.”
Ahmed, the agriculture specialist, said increased tree-cutting during the conflict – by armed groups and families needing firewood or supplementary income – has also undermined the home gardens.
Trees traditionally planted around a jubraka provide shade and help soil retain moisture. As they have disappeared, the ground has become drier, temperatures within gardens have risen, and pests have become more prevalent.
Economist Hytham Fathi warned against viewing home gardening as a complete solution to the hunger crisis, saying they can only partially offset the economic collapse caused by the war.
Fathi described what has emerged as a survival economy formed in the absence of the state, sustained by community effort and highly fragile. Without institutional support, he warned, it risks becoming a form of “managed collapse.”
Still, for Noray in Sennar, the value of a jubraka extends far beyond the food it produces. “The jubraka won’t solve all problems,” she said, “but it helped us survive, provide food, and preserve our dignity in very difficult conditions.”
Edited by Philip Kleinfeld.
Facts Only
* Rayan Hammad heads to her garden in Dilling to pick up seedlings of okra and rocket.
* Hammad’s garden, called a jubraka, serves as a source of food for her family.
* The war in Sudan involved the SAF and the RSF.
* Hunger levels were severe in places like Dilling, South Kordofan state.
* Residents turned to their jubraka for essential fresh produce when markets were inaccessible.
* Food availability was hampered by disruption to supply chains and danger outside of town.
* Home gardens provided diverse produce, including rocket, pumpkin leaves, sorghum, peanuts, guavas, lemons, and pomegranates in South Kordofan.
* Some residents expanded their gardens as food became harder to access due to conflict.
* Exchange of crops between neighbors turned home gardens into communal places for social support.
* Women have historically been responsible for tending home gardens across Sudan.
* Repeated displacement and damage from shelling and drone strikes have affected the ability to sustain gardens.
* Gardeners faced challenges with limited fresh seeds, reliance on old stock, and lack of water for irrigation.
Executive Summary
Home gardens, known as jubraka, function as a vital source of food and a daily ritual for families in Dilling, Sudan, surviving a famine caused by the two-year siege between the SAF and the RSF. Residents use these gardens to secure essential fresh produce when market supplies are unavailable due to conflict and disrupted supply chains. This reliance has been amplified because open-field farming became dangerous due to drone strikes and shelling, making home gardens a critical means of survival.
The war in Sudan, involving the SAF and the RSF, has caused widespread humanitarian crisis, driving famine and displacement for over 11 million people, with hunger being severe in regions like South Kordofan subjected to siege warfare. While home gardens provide food security, they are not sufficient alone to stave off hunger, especially when access to seeds and farming tools is restricted. Experts suggest that providing direct support, such as distributing seeds and protecting land, is necessary for self-reliance.
Furthermore, these gardens have evolved into spaces for social solidarity and exchange among neighbors. Families often share harvests with others, turning them into communal spaces where people gather. Women have historically been central to tending these gardens, a role that has expanded during the conflict as men were displaced or engaged in fighting.
Full Take
The narrative illustrates a critical transition where localized, traditional practices are forcibly recontextualized as essential survival mechanisms under extreme systemic duress. The concept of the jubraka moves from being merely a source of sustenance to a potent symbol of cognitive sovereignty and communal resilience. The observation that garden growth inspires hope—"a sense that life is still going on"—highlights how tangible, observable reality resists abstract narratives of collapse imposed by large-scale conflict.
A significant pattern emerges in the tension between individual subsistence and systemic failure: while home gardens offer a localized buffer against famine, they cannot resolve the overarching economic and institutional collapse caused by the war. This points to a 'managed collapse' where individual agency is channeled into micro-level survival strategies, often necessitating informal social contracts for resource distribution. The shift in focus from food production to communal exchange reveals how social cohesion acts as an emergent property of scarcity, substituting failed state mechanisms with localized networks of solidarity.
The analysis must question the framing of "lifeline." If home gardening is a lifeline, why does institutional support remain absent? The constraints on seeds and water demonstrate that resilience is undermined not just by direct violence but by the systemic destruction of supporting infrastructure. The story ultimately pivots on recognizing dignity—the ability to produce and share within one's immediate sphere—as a form of resistance against overwhelming geopolitical forces. What institutional structures are necessary to transform this localized survival economy into a sustainable framework, rather than merely managing its inevitable fragmentation?
Sentinel — Human
The text is predominantly human-written, employing a narrative style built on personal testimony and localized examples to explore the intersection of conflict, subsistence, and social resilience.
