In Sudan, two fractions of the national army are fighting against each other since April 2023. War and destruction often leave us speechless. The words of those who can articulate their feelings are ever more important. Our author tried.
Mustafa Jorry is a Sudanese artist and comedian who managed to grow a big follower base on social media, from Sudan and other Arabic-speaking communities but also from France where he has been living since 2022. Besides his comedy content, Mustafa posts about the situation in Sudan. Keeping eyes on Sudan is important to him and his community. In the past, we have reported on the background to the fighting, personal stories of the flight from Khartoum and the situation of refugees in exile in Egypt. In this article, Mustafa shares what he has to say about the first anniversary of the ongoing war in Sudan.
“Today, I’m writing to you – not to ask you to be human, to refuse the acts of war; not to ask humanity to look at us being butchered in Sudan; or to tell you how many kids were killed; or how many women were assaulted; not even to ask you to pray. No, I’m just going to tell you how I feel, how I felt this past year. I hope that you don’t relate to what I am going to say, and if you do, I am sorry. But you’re not alone.
Today, we count one year of war in Sudan, one year of suffering, grieving, destruction, and fleeing. One year of fighting. Besides the obvious fighting that is taking place in the field between the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) and the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF), we as the Sudanese people have our own fights: we fought hunger, separation from our loved ones, and we're still fighting against losing hope.
Hope is the only thing that protects us from giving up despite all the realities we face. Reality never gives us any sign of potential improvement in the situation. We choose to live in a bubble of hope that protects us from going insane. This bubble preserves the pictures of the places we grew up in-even after we had to witness these places being destroyed and razed in less than a minute; even after our memories fell apart because the people in them are no more.
Choosing to live in this bubble might sound irrational, however, we choose to live in it to remain sane. Recently, I started discovering things about me, things I share with many of my compatriots. One of them is that I can’t feel stable, or even safe, but stable is what comes first. I can’t even comprehend the idea of being stable, having the same daily life, or living in the same place for a long time. Not even in my richest imagination, I have a picture of this. I just can’t, because I have never felt it, only heard of it. For as long as I have lived, the people of Sudan have been threatened by war and oppression.
I don’t know if Sudanese people are doomed to suffer, but I hope not. I hope we find peace one day, I hope we get the chance to recreate our memories, to decorate our bubble of hope with new pictures of our home. I hope I won’t need to rewrite this letter two years from now. I hope the best for my people.”