Celebrations
Did you know that you can fight adversity with happiness? The celebration of life and our existence is a way to mark our survival everyday.
In Sudan, our ‘cultural DNA,’ derived from our multitude of races, ethnicities, and faiths, provides us with a range of means to coexist. Our resilience is built on living together despite our differences and on learning to adapt to our nature no matter how harsh it becomes. For generations, we have collectively held the knowledge of preserving nature and surviving change, as we do that, we celebrate every step of the way.
In Sudan, our ‘cultural DNA,’ derived from our multitude of races, ethnicities, and faiths, provides us with a range of means to coexist. Our resilience is built on living together despite our differences and on learning to adapt to our nature no matter how harsh it becomes. For generations, we have collectively held the knowledge of preserving nature and surviving change, as we do that, we celebrate every step of the way.
If you look closer you will discover that the very beauty of our diversity lies in our differences.
Life is full of complexities. Peace and conflict can exist in a single space be it under a tree, in a courtroom or even in a wrestling ring.
How can practicing culture be a form of resilience? What tools do we have in our culture that were developed out of resilience? The knowledge we inherit from our elders is only one form of collective knowledge that we live by today.
Did you know that you can fight adversity with happiness? The celebration of life and our existence is a way to mark our survival everyday.
For centuries, this land has been characterized by being a blend of ethnicities, occupied by the Bedouin spirit with all its implications of clan and cohesion. This was true until it gained its Ibn Khaldunian name: Sudan (Land of the Blacks), in contrast to Bilad al-Bidan (the Land of the Whites).
Its general features were infused with the spirit of Christian religiosity, but this gradually shifted in favour of another religion—Islam—which captivated people's souls and flowed into their broader public sphere.
In the visual public sphere for instance, Maydan al-Mawlid, public squares where the birth of the Prophet Muhammad is celebrated, serve as a defining feature of modern Sudanese cities, especially the larger of these spaces. These areas, proposed by the Sufis, are an essential component of Sudanese culture. To illustrate; It is impossible to read the corpus of Sudanese Arabic literature without encountering this tolerant, sacred, and festive space:
“This day is the field of longing,
Where yearning delights the afflicted.
The people’s faces, like cheerful gardens,
Blessed by the holy rain of saints.”
(Abdullah Abdulrahman al-Dharir)
To this day, the Mawlid Square, established through the vision of the Sufis, remains one of the most liberating and inclusive spaces in Sudanese culture. Architecturally, it is an open area adorned with various types of fabric tents erected as throughout.
By the late 13th and early 14th centuries, Islam entered Sudan, and the Kingdom of Maqarra abandoned Christianity, transforming into smaller Arab-influenced emirates. By the early 16th century, the Christian Kingdom of Alawa had also ceased to be Christian, and the southernmost boundaries of Islam settled along the 13th parallel north of the equator.
Over the next three centuries, Islam solidified its influence. During this period, prominent religious families established themselves, spreading the traits of the new faith into the country’s public sphere. Sufi lodges became the nuclei of a distinct Islamic civilization, as noted by British missionary Spencer Trimingham in his significant work, A History of Islam in Sudan. What has consistently distinguished Sudanese religiosity is its Sufi character which is predominantly characterized, more precisely, by its Hijazi and Maghrebi essence.
Over time, the principles of a "Sufi universality" took root in the collective consciousness. Making Baghdad the center of the Sufi community with the Hijaz viewed as the axis of existence. This new foundation tamed earlier tribalism with the Sufi order becoming a unifying social contract.
Anyone tracing the map of Sufism in Sudan will find that the Qadiriyya order entered Sudan through Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Bahari, who visited the Sultanate of Sennar in 1577. As for Sheikh Ahmad al-Bashir al-Tayyib (d. 1823), he introduced the Sammaniyya order, which became established alongside the Qadiriyya and Shadhiliyya orders.
The Samaniyya Order spread widely during the late Turko-Egyptian period, becoming a mass movement that eventually gave rise to the Mahdist revolution. At the same time, Sayyid Muhammad Uthman al-Mirghani al-Kabir arrived in Sudan in 1818, sent by his teacher Ahmad ibn Idris. He founded the Khatmiyya Order which became a major order with a centralized system of organisation. The order gained a significant following especially in the northern, eastern, and Kordofan regions of Sudan. It also extended deeply into Eritrea, Egypt, and the Arabian Peninsula.
The Tijaniyya order, which emerged from the Shadhiliyya and Khalwatiyya orders, was introduced to Sudan by Sheikh Muhammad al-Shanqeeti in 1847. Its first prominent center was at the khalwas of Al-Ghubush, west of the city of Berber in the Nile River State. It became the principal Sufi order in the Fur Sultanate. The Khatmiyya order gave rise to the Isma’iliyya order, founded by Sheikh Isma’il al-Wali (d. 1863), while the Shadhiliyya order produced the Majdhubiyya order. Additionally, the Burhaniyya order gained fame in Khartoum, Egypt, Germany, and among Muslims in Europe.
These Sufi orders, which span nearly all parts of Sudan, historically integrated with tribal structures as their adherents demonstrated spiritual loyalty to the descendants of the Prophet’s family (Ahl al-Bayt). Gradually, distinctions became blurred making it difficult to differentiate between tribal and spiritual affiliations.
Initially, Sufism in Sudan was spontaneous, functioning as a shared social contract between the state and society. For instance, during the long reign of the Sennar Sultanate (1504–1821), Sufism was widespread and unstructured. Sheikh Muhammad Wad Daifallah documented this era in his famous book Tabaqat Wad Daifallah. Despite the generally serene disposition of Sudanese Sufis, Imam Muhammad Ahmad al-Mahdi managed to revolutionize Sufism, transforming it into a governing system that lasted 13 years (1885–1898).
Returning to the public sphere north of the 13th parallel, people gather at the Mawlid grounds annually for 12 days of celebration, marked by drumming, chants, and vibrant, colourful attire. The Mawlid grounds become a space that tests and celebrates diversity in every aspect: people, colours, sounds, lights, opinions, and ideas. It is a space where everyone’s presence is legitimized, and everyone participates in shaping it, as it reflects the meaning of their lives in that moment.
In his book Al-Maseed, Al-Tayeb Muhammad al-Tayeb highlights another public space next to the Mawlid grounds: the Maseed. This place is described as an institution with “a remarkable ability to dissolve racial, tribal, and regional barriers,” playing a similarly integrative role in society.
Cover Picture © Sari Omer Omdurman, Celebrations of Sufis for the Moulid (Prophet’s birthday) in the Khalifa Mosque “Maidan” Omdurman.
For centuries, this land has been characterized by being a blend of ethnicities, occupied by the Bedouin spirit with all its implications of clan and cohesion. This was true until it gained its Ibn Khaldunian name: Sudan (Land of the Blacks), in contrast to Bilad al-Bidan (the Land of the Whites).
Its general features were infused with the spirit of Christian religiosity, but this gradually shifted in favour of another religion—Islam—which captivated people's souls and flowed into their broader public sphere.
In the visual public sphere for instance, Maydan al-Mawlid, public squares where the birth of the Prophet Muhammad is celebrated, serve as a defining feature of modern Sudanese cities, especially the larger of these spaces. These areas, proposed by the Sufis, are an essential component of Sudanese culture. To illustrate; It is impossible to read the corpus of Sudanese Arabic literature without encountering this tolerant, sacred, and festive space:
“This day is the field of longing,
Where yearning delights the afflicted.
The people’s faces, like cheerful gardens,
Blessed by the holy rain of saints.”
(Abdullah Abdulrahman al-Dharir)
To this day, the Mawlid Square, established through the vision of the Sufis, remains one of the most liberating and inclusive spaces in Sudanese culture. Architecturally, it is an open area adorned with various types of fabric tents erected as throughout.
By the late 13th and early 14th centuries, Islam entered Sudan, and the Kingdom of Maqarra abandoned Christianity, transforming into smaller Arab-influenced emirates. By the early 16th century, the Christian Kingdom of Alawa had also ceased to be Christian, and the southernmost boundaries of Islam settled along the 13th parallel north of the equator.
Over the next three centuries, Islam solidified its influence. During this period, prominent religious families established themselves, spreading the traits of the new faith into the country’s public sphere. Sufi lodges became the nuclei of a distinct Islamic civilization, as noted by British missionary Spencer Trimingham in his significant work, A History of Islam in Sudan. What has consistently distinguished Sudanese religiosity is its Sufi character which is predominantly characterized, more precisely, by its Hijazi and Maghrebi essence.
Over time, the principles of a "Sufi universality" took root in the collective consciousness. Making Baghdad the center of the Sufi community with the Hijaz viewed as the axis of existence. This new foundation tamed earlier tribalism with the Sufi order becoming a unifying social contract.
Anyone tracing the map of Sufism in Sudan will find that the Qadiriyya order entered Sudan through Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Bahari, who visited the Sultanate of Sennar in 1577. As for Sheikh Ahmad al-Bashir al-Tayyib (d. 1823), he introduced the Sammaniyya order, which became established alongside the Qadiriyya and Shadhiliyya orders.
The Samaniyya Order spread widely during the late Turko-Egyptian period, becoming a mass movement that eventually gave rise to the Mahdist revolution. At the same time, Sayyid Muhammad Uthman al-Mirghani al-Kabir arrived in Sudan in 1818, sent by his teacher Ahmad ibn Idris. He founded the Khatmiyya Order which became a major order with a centralized system of organisation. The order gained a significant following especially in the northern, eastern, and Kordofan regions of Sudan. It also extended deeply into Eritrea, Egypt, and the Arabian Peninsula.
The Tijaniyya order, which emerged from the Shadhiliyya and Khalwatiyya orders, was introduced to Sudan by Sheikh Muhammad al-Shanqeeti in 1847. Its first prominent center was at the khalwas of Al-Ghubush, west of the city of Berber in the Nile River State. It became the principal Sufi order in the Fur Sultanate. The Khatmiyya order gave rise to the Isma’iliyya order, founded by Sheikh Isma’il al-Wali (d. 1863), while the Shadhiliyya order produced the Majdhubiyya order. Additionally, the Burhaniyya order gained fame in Khartoum, Egypt, Germany, and among Muslims in Europe.
These Sufi orders, which span nearly all parts of Sudan, historically integrated with tribal structures as their adherents demonstrated spiritual loyalty to the descendants of the Prophet’s family (Ahl al-Bayt). Gradually, distinctions became blurred making it difficult to differentiate between tribal and spiritual affiliations.
Initially, Sufism in Sudan was spontaneous, functioning as a shared social contract between the state and society. For instance, during the long reign of the Sennar Sultanate (1504–1821), Sufism was widespread and unstructured. Sheikh Muhammad Wad Daifallah documented this era in his famous book Tabaqat Wad Daifallah. Despite the generally serene disposition of Sudanese Sufis, Imam Muhammad Ahmad al-Mahdi managed to revolutionize Sufism, transforming it into a governing system that lasted 13 years (1885–1898).
Returning to the public sphere north of the 13th parallel, people gather at the Mawlid grounds annually for 12 days of celebration, marked by drumming, chants, and vibrant, colourful attire. The Mawlid grounds become a space that tests and celebrates diversity in every aspect: people, colours, sounds, lights, opinions, and ideas. It is a space where everyone’s presence is legitimized, and everyone participates in shaping it, as it reflects the meaning of their lives in that moment.
In his book Al-Maseed, Al-Tayeb Muhammad al-Tayeb highlights another public space next to the Mawlid grounds: the Maseed. This place is described as an institution with “a remarkable ability to dissolve racial, tribal, and regional barriers,” playing a similarly integrative role in society.
Cover Picture © Sari Omer Omdurman, Celebrations of Sufis for the Moulid (Prophet’s birthday) in the Khalifa Mosque “Maidan” Omdurman.
For centuries, this land has been characterized by being a blend of ethnicities, occupied by the Bedouin spirit with all its implications of clan and cohesion. This was true until it gained its Ibn Khaldunian name: Sudan (Land of the Blacks), in contrast to Bilad al-Bidan (the Land of the Whites).
Its general features were infused with the spirit of Christian religiosity, but this gradually shifted in favour of another religion—Islam—which captivated people's souls and flowed into their broader public sphere.
In the visual public sphere for instance, Maydan al-Mawlid, public squares where the birth of the Prophet Muhammad is celebrated, serve as a defining feature of modern Sudanese cities, especially the larger of these spaces. These areas, proposed by the Sufis, are an essential component of Sudanese culture. To illustrate; It is impossible to read the corpus of Sudanese Arabic literature without encountering this tolerant, sacred, and festive space:
“This day is the field of longing,
Where yearning delights the afflicted.
The people’s faces, like cheerful gardens,
Blessed by the holy rain of saints.”
(Abdullah Abdulrahman al-Dharir)
To this day, the Mawlid Square, established through the vision of the Sufis, remains one of the most liberating and inclusive spaces in Sudanese culture. Architecturally, it is an open area adorned with various types of fabric tents erected as throughout.
By the late 13th and early 14th centuries, Islam entered Sudan, and the Kingdom of Maqarra abandoned Christianity, transforming into smaller Arab-influenced emirates. By the early 16th century, the Christian Kingdom of Alawa had also ceased to be Christian, and the southernmost boundaries of Islam settled along the 13th parallel north of the equator.
Over the next three centuries, Islam solidified its influence. During this period, prominent religious families established themselves, spreading the traits of the new faith into the country’s public sphere. Sufi lodges became the nuclei of a distinct Islamic civilization, as noted by British missionary Spencer Trimingham in his significant work, A History of Islam in Sudan. What has consistently distinguished Sudanese religiosity is its Sufi character which is predominantly characterized, more precisely, by its Hijazi and Maghrebi essence.
Over time, the principles of a "Sufi universality" took root in the collective consciousness. Making Baghdad the center of the Sufi community with the Hijaz viewed as the axis of existence. This new foundation tamed earlier tribalism with the Sufi order becoming a unifying social contract.
Anyone tracing the map of Sufism in Sudan will find that the Qadiriyya order entered Sudan through Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Bahari, who visited the Sultanate of Sennar in 1577. As for Sheikh Ahmad al-Bashir al-Tayyib (d. 1823), he introduced the Sammaniyya order, which became established alongside the Qadiriyya and Shadhiliyya orders.
The Samaniyya Order spread widely during the late Turko-Egyptian period, becoming a mass movement that eventually gave rise to the Mahdist revolution. At the same time, Sayyid Muhammad Uthman al-Mirghani al-Kabir arrived in Sudan in 1818, sent by his teacher Ahmad ibn Idris. He founded the Khatmiyya Order which became a major order with a centralized system of organisation. The order gained a significant following especially in the northern, eastern, and Kordofan regions of Sudan. It also extended deeply into Eritrea, Egypt, and the Arabian Peninsula.
The Tijaniyya order, which emerged from the Shadhiliyya and Khalwatiyya orders, was introduced to Sudan by Sheikh Muhammad al-Shanqeeti in 1847. Its first prominent center was at the khalwas of Al-Ghubush, west of the city of Berber in the Nile River State. It became the principal Sufi order in the Fur Sultanate. The Khatmiyya order gave rise to the Isma’iliyya order, founded by Sheikh Isma’il al-Wali (d. 1863), while the Shadhiliyya order produced the Majdhubiyya order. Additionally, the Burhaniyya order gained fame in Khartoum, Egypt, Germany, and among Muslims in Europe.
These Sufi orders, which span nearly all parts of Sudan, historically integrated with tribal structures as their adherents demonstrated spiritual loyalty to the descendants of the Prophet’s family (Ahl al-Bayt). Gradually, distinctions became blurred making it difficult to differentiate between tribal and spiritual affiliations.
Initially, Sufism in Sudan was spontaneous, functioning as a shared social contract between the state and society. For instance, during the long reign of the Sennar Sultanate (1504–1821), Sufism was widespread and unstructured. Sheikh Muhammad Wad Daifallah documented this era in his famous book Tabaqat Wad Daifallah. Despite the generally serene disposition of Sudanese Sufis, Imam Muhammad Ahmad al-Mahdi managed to revolutionize Sufism, transforming it into a governing system that lasted 13 years (1885–1898).
Returning to the public sphere north of the 13th parallel, people gather at the Mawlid grounds annually for 12 days of celebration, marked by drumming, chants, and vibrant, colourful attire. The Mawlid grounds become a space that tests and celebrates diversity in every aspect: people, colours, sounds, lights, opinions, and ideas. It is a space where everyone’s presence is legitimized, and everyone participates in shaping it, as it reflects the meaning of their lives in that moment.
In his book Al-Maseed, Al-Tayeb Muhammad al-Tayeb highlights another public space next to the Mawlid grounds: the Maseed. This place is described as an institution with “a remarkable ability to dissolve racial, tribal, and regional barriers,” playing a similarly integrative role in society.
Cover Picture © Sari Omer Omdurman, Celebrations of Sufis for the Moulid (Prophet’s birthday) in the Khalifa Mosque “Maidan” Omdurman.
The exhibition of educator and artist Sitana Badri on household items, showcased at the Khalifa House Community Museum after its reopening at the beginning of 2023, is a living model of the idea of “a home as a museum”.
The exhibition was displayed in the kitchen of Mrs Daisy Bramble at the Bramble Household, one of the residences of British administrators of Omdurman in the 1920’s during British rule.
Sitana Badri, a pioneer of Sudanese visual arts, was born in the city of Rabak in southeastern Sudan in 1929 and was the daughter of one of the pioneers of girl’s education, Sheikh Babikir Badri. She was awarded a diploma of Fine Arts from the faculty of Fine Arts in Khartoum and studied Fine Arts in the United States. She worked as an English teacher and then as an art teacher at Omdurman Secondary School, and later as a lecturer at Ahfad University for Women in the field of arts and textile printing.
Sitana Badri’s artistic journey, and the diversity of teaching methods and various uses of available local materials, were sybolic of her creative life, dedicated to reflect the beauty and richness of Sudanese Culture, especially the creativity of women who regularly use art in their everyday life.
During her long life, Sittana exhibited her artwork at five exhibitions in the United States, the United Kingdom and Egypt, and four exhibitions in Khartoum. Some of her artwork can be found at Manchester University in the UK and at many other public and private locations.
The Household Exhibition is a collection of kitchenware including various pots and crockery from different historical periods. The designs and patterns displayed on the various pieces evoke memories for those who lived in the early to mid-twentieth century. On the back of each piece you will find the name of its owner before she donated it to Sitana’s collection, thus documenting a period of her life, and the lives of many other Sudanese, who shared the experience of acquiring these items and using them at many events to bring people together around the same table.
This Household Exhibition is considered a unique experience in the concept and process of “museum showcasing”, from the selection of the theme, to the method of collection and presentation, which all focus on collective memory. The choice of kitchenware, which Sitana chose to collect and display, is an important facet of Sudanese daily life which extends the concept of heritage to dimensions that are not usually evident in institutional museum spaces.
Cover Picture and gallery pictures © Zainab Gaafar
The exhibition of educator and artist Sitana Badri on household items, showcased at the Khalifa House Community Museum after its reopening at the beginning of 2023, is a living model of the idea of “a home as a museum”.
The exhibition was displayed in the kitchen of Mrs Daisy Bramble at the Bramble Household, one of the residences of British administrators of Omdurman in the 1920’s during British rule.
Sitana Badri, a pioneer of Sudanese visual arts, was born in the city of Rabak in southeastern Sudan in 1929 and was the daughter of one of the pioneers of girl’s education, Sheikh Babikir Badri. She was awarded a diploma of Fine Arts from the faculty of Fine Arts in Khartoum and studied Fine Arts in the United States. She worked as an English teacher and then as an art teacher at Omdurman Secondary School, and later as a lecturer at Ahfad University for Women in the field of arts and textile printing.
Sitana Badri’s artistic journey, and the diversity of teaching methods and various uses of available local materials, were sybolic of her creative life, dedicated to reflect the beauty and richness of Sudanese Culture, especially the creativity of women who regularly use art in their everyday life.
During her long life, Sittana exhibited her artwork at five exhibitions in the United States, the United Kingdom and Egypt, and four exhibitions in Khartoum. Some of her artwork can be found at Manchester University in the UK and at many other public and private locations.
The Household Exhibition is a collection of kitchenware including various pots and crockery from different historical periods. The designs and patterns displayed on the various pieces evoke memories for those who lived in the early to mid-twentieth century. On the back of each piece you will find the name of its owner before she donated it to Sitana’s collection, thus documenting a period of her life, and the lives of many other Sudanese, who shared the experience of acquiring these items and using them at many events to bring people together around the same table.
This Household Exhibition is considered a unique experience in the concept and process of “museum showcasing”, from the selection of the theme, to the method of collection and presentation, which all focus on collective memory. The choice of kitchenware, which Sitana chose to collect and display, is an important facet of Sudanese daily life which extends the concept of heritage to dimensions that are not usually evident in institutional museum spaces.
Cover Picture and gallery pictures © Zainab Gaafar
The exhibition of educator and artist Sitana Badri on household items, showcased at the Khalifa House Community Museum after its reopening at the beginning of 2023, is a living model of the idea of “a home as a museum”.
The exhibition was displayed in the kitchen of Mrs Daisy Bramble at the Bramble Household, one of the residences of British administrators of Omdurman in the 1920’s during British rule.
Sitana Badri, a pioneer of Sudanese visual arts, was born in the city of Rabak in southeastern Sudan in 1929 and was the daughter of one of the pioneers of girl’s education, Sheikh Babikir Badri. She was awarded a diploma of Fine Arts from the faculty of Fine Arts in Khartoum and studied Fine Arts in the United States. She worked as an English teacher and then as an art teacher at Omdurman Secondary School, and later as a lecturer at Ahfad University for Women in the field of arts and textile printing.
Sitana Badri’s artistic journey, and the diversity of teaching methods and various uses of available local materials, were sybolic of her creative life, dedicated to reflect the beauty and richness of Sudanese Culture, especially the creativity of women who regularly use art in their everyday life.
During her long life, Sittana exhibited her artwork at five exhibitions in the United States, the United Kingdom and Egypt, and four exhibitions in Khartoum. Some of her artwork can be found at Manchester University in the UK and at many other public and private locations.
The Household Exhibition is a collection of kitchenware including various pots and crockery from different historical periods. The designs and patterns displayed on the various pieces evoke memories for those who lived in the early to mid-twentieth century. On the back of each piece you will find the name of its owner before she donated it to Sitana’s collection, thus documenting a period of her life, and the lives of many other Sudanese, who shared the experience of acquiring these items and using them at many events to bring people together around the same table.
This Household Exhibition is considered a unique experience in the concept and process of “museum showcasing”, from the selection of the theme, to the method of collection and presentation, which all focus on collective memory. The choice of kitchenware, which Sitana chose to collect and display, is an important facet of Sudanese daily life which extends the concept of heritage to dimensions that are not usually evident in institutional museum spaces.
Cover Picture and gallery pictures © Zainab Gaafar
By: Mujahid Al-Doma
Originally published by (Beam Reports) in 01/12/2022
At first glance, when you hear the cheers and chants of the crowd, you might think you’re at a football match. However, as you get closer to the arena surrounded by enthusiastic spectators, the scene becomes clear. Two wrestlers stand in the middle of a sand-covered ring, grappling with their hands, striving to bring the other down to win a round of Sudanese wrestling, known as Al-Sira’a.
Wrestling (Al-Sira’a) has deep roots in the South Kordofan region (Nuba Mountains), where it originated as a cultural practice and an integral part of the identity of various tribal groups, with additional social and economic dimensions.
Initially, wrestling was associated with celebrations and festivals held during the harvest season, from August to December each year. These events often featured artistic performances by the wrestlers before their matches. As part of the tradition, each tribal group trained its young wrestlers, ensuring they followed a comprehensive diet (including fresh milk, meat, honey, and sesame) to prepare them for competing against wrestlers from other tribes.
New Arenas
Due to the repeated civil wars in Sudan, which affected South Kordofan, many people began migrating in the 1970s, seeking safety and new opportunities. This movement brought displaced populations to other states, particularly the capital, Khartoum, and its outskirts. Along with them came their traditions, culture, and rituals, including dances like Karnak and Kambala, as well as wrestling. The latter gained widespread popularity as a sport, leading to the establishment of several wrestling arenas in places like Haj Yousif (East Nile) and Abu Hamad (Omdurman). These arenas now host diverse audiences of Sudanese and foreigners twice a week to enjoy and cheer on the matches.
The transformation of wrestling from a cultural practice to a sport brought changes to some of its rules and the way wrestlers (known as “Knights” in the Nuba Mountains) adorn themselves. Wrestling now operates under established laws and regulations. Additionally, the Sudanese Wrestling Federation was established to oversee the sport. Players began affiliating with clubs rather than the tribal groups from which they originated.
Due to the notable similarities between Sudanese wrestling and Japanese sumo wrestling, Sudanese arenas have, on several occasions, seen participation from Japanese individuals, including the Japanese diplomat Yasuhiro Morotatsu.
In March 2022, the fifth national wrestling championship concluded in the city of Khashm al-Qirba (Kassala State). The event, first organized by the Sudanese Wrestling Federation in 2017 in Khartoum, has since become an annual gathering hosted by various states, including Gedaref, Kassala, Blue Nile, and again in Kassala in March 2022. The championship was held under the slogan, "Through Wrestling, We Strengthen Peace," with six states participating: South Kordofan, White Nile, Gedaref, Khartoum, Red Sea, and Kassala. However, West and North Kordofan, Sennar, Northern State, and Blue Nile apologised for not taking part.
International Participation
In recent years, the Sudanese national wrestling team has participated in several African and Arab championships, achieving a notable number of titles and medals. The team won two bronze medals at the African Championship in Nigeria in 2018 and five additional medals at the Arab Championship in Sharm El-Sheikh, Egypt. The team further enhanced its experience and international participation, culminating in winning 12 medals at the 2019 Arab Championship and the Ibrahim Mustafa International Tournament.
Last May marked a new breakthrough for Sudanese wrestling on the international stage. Sudanese wrestler Patricia Saif al-Din, the first female wrestler to compete in an international tournament, achieved third place and won a bronze medal in the 68 kg category at the African Championship held in Morocco, which featured participants from 34 countries.
It is worth noting that Patricia is one of many women who have joined wrestling through the Talent Discovery Project, a programme organized in partnership with the International Olympic Committee and international federations. The Wrestling Federation benefited from this initiative in 2018, with Patricia securing one of the top positions in the programme and further participated in the Paris 2024 Olympics.
A New Generation
The rise of wrestling and its appeal across all age groups has emphasized the need for institutions to nurture and train young talents of both genders. To this end, the Wrestling Federation has been organizing martial arts training sessions for boys and girls aged 7–19, aiming to develop the sport by providing the necessary skills and education.
The fifth session of the Martial Arts School Project was held before the war, targeting school students. Around 150 boys and girls from Unity National Schools (East Nile) participated. The project is implemented by the Sudanese Wrestling Federation in partnership with the International Center for Martial Arts (South Korea) and under the sponsorship of UNESCO.
The spread of wrestling and its transformation from a social and ritual activity tied to harvest celebrations in the Nuba Mountains into a widely-followed sport across Sudan showcases the value of cultural exchange. It highlights the openness of cultures to one another and the intermingling of traditions.
The video shows footage of the 2020 Nuba festival held in Khartoum, the festival included traditional dancing and traditional Nuba wrestling, a popular sports that attracts hundreds of people every week to watch. Filmed by Snoop for the Western Sudan Community Museums project
Cover picture: Every Friday, Sudanese wrestling takes place between Nubian and South Sudanese tribes in Haj Yousif © Mohammed Osman, Khartoum
By: Mujahid Al-Doma
Originally published by (Beam Reports) in 01/12/2022
At first glance, when you hear the cheers and chants of the crowd, you might think you’re at a football match. However, as you get closer to the arena surrounded by enthusiastic spectators, the scene becomes clear. Two wrestlers stand in the middle of a sand-covered ring, grappling with their hands, striving to bring the other down to win a round of Sudanese wrestling, known as Al-Sira’a.
Wrestling (Al-Sira’a) has deep roots in the South Kordofan region (Nuba Mountains), where it originated as a cultural practice and an integral part of the identity of various tribal groups, with additional social and economic dimensions.
Initially, wrestling was associated with celebrations and festivals held during the harvest season, from August to December each year. These events often featured artistic performances by the wrestlers before their matches. As part of the tradition, each tribal group trained its young wrestlers, ensuring they followed a comprehensive diet (including fresh milk, meat, honey, and sesame) to prepare them for competing against wrestlers from other tribes.
New Arenas
Due to the repeated civil wars in Sudan, which affected South Kordofan, many people began migrating in the 1970s, seeking safety and new opportunities. This movement brought displaced populations to other states, particularly the capital, Khartoum, and its outskirts. Along with them came their traditions, culture, and rituals, including dances like Karnak and Kambala, as well as wrestling. The latter gained widespread popularity as a sport, leading to the establishment of several wrestling arenas in places like Haj Yousif (East Nile) and Abu Hamad (Omdurman). These arenas now host diverse audiences of Sudanese and foreigners twice a week to enjoy and cheer on the matches.
The transformation of wrestling from a cultural practice to a sport brought changes to some of its rules and the way wrestlers (known as “Knights” in the Nuba Mountains) adorn themselves. Wrestling now operates under established laws and regulations. Additionally, the Sudanese Wrestling Federation was established to oversee the sport. Players began affiliating with clubs rather than the tribal groups from which they originated.
Due to the notable similarities between Sudanese wrestling and Japanese sumo wrestling, Sudanese arenas have, on several occasions, seen participation from Japanese individuals, including the Japanese diplomat Yasuhiro Morotatsu.
In March 2022, the fifth national wrestling championship concluded in the city of Khashm al-Qirba (Kassala State). The event, first organized by the Sudanese Wrestling Federation in 2017 in Khartoum, has since become an annual gathering hosted by various states, including Gedaref, Kassala, Blue Nile, and again in Kassala in March 2022. The championship was held under the slogan, "Through Wrestling, We Strengthen Peace," with six states participating: South Kordofan, White Nile, Gedaref, Khartoum, Red Sea, and Kassala. However, West and North Kordofan, Sennar, Northern State, and Blue Nile apologised for not taking part.
International Participation
In recent years, the Sudanese national wrestling team has participated in several African and Arab championships, achieving a notable number of titles and medals. The team won two bronze medals at the African Championship in Nigeria in 2018 and five additional medals at the Arab Championship in Sharm El-Sheikh, Egypt. The team further enhanced its experience and international participation, culminating in winning 12 medals at the 2019 Arab Championship and the Ibrahim Mustafa International Tournament.
Last May marked a new breakthrough for Sudanese wrestling on the international stage. Sudanese wrestler Patricia Saif al-Din, the first female wrestler to compete in an international tournament, achieved third place and won a bronze medal in the 68 kg category at the African Championship held in Morocco, which featured participants from 34 countries.
It is worth noting that Patricia is one of many women who have joined wrestling through the Talent Discovery Project, a programme organized in partnership with the International Olympic Committee and international federations. The Wrestling Federation benefited from this initiative in 2018, with Patricia securing one of the top positions in the programme and further participated in the Paris 2024 Olympics.
A New Generation
The rise of wrestling and its appeal across all age groups has emphasized the need for institutions to nurture and train young talents of both genders. To this end, the Wrestling Federation has been organizing martial arts training sessions for boys and girls aged 7–19, aiming to develop the sport by providing the necessary skills and education.
The fifth session of the Martial Arts School Project was held before the war, targeting school students. Around 150 boys and girls from Unity National Schools (East Nile) participated. The project is implemented by the Sudanese Wrestling Federation in partnership with the International Center for Martial Arts (South Korea) and under the sponsorship of UNESCO.
The spread of wrestling and its transformation from a social and ritual activity tied to harvest celebrations in the Nuba Mountains into a widely-followed sport across Sudan showcases the value of cultural exchange. It highlights the openness of cultures to one another and the intermingling of traditions.
The video shows footage of the 2020 Nuba festival held in Khartoum, the festival included traditional dancing and traditional Nuba wrestling, a popular sports that attracts hundreds of people every week to watch. Filmed by Snoop for the Western Sudan Community Museums project
Cover picture: Every Friday, Sudanese wrestling takes place between Nubian and South Sudanese tribes in Haj Yousif © Mohammed Osman, Khartoum
By: Mujahid Al-Doma
Originally published by (Beam Reports) in 01/12/2022
At first glance, when you hear the cheers and chants of the crowd, you might think you’re at a football match. However, as you get closer to the arena surrounded by enthusiastic spectators, the scene becomes clear. Two wrestlers stand in the middle of a sand-covered ring, grappling with their hands, striving to bring the other down to win a round of Sudanese wrestling, known as Al-Sira’a.
Wrestling (Al-Sira’a) has deep roots in the South Kordofan region (Nuba Mountains), where it originated as a cultural practice and an integral part of the identity of various tribal groups, with additional social and economic dimensions.
Initially, wrestling was associated with celebrations and festivals held during the harvest season, from August to December each year. These events often featured artistic performances by the wrestlers before their matches. As part of the tradition, each tribal group trained its young wrestlers, ensuring they followed a comprehensive diet (including fresh milk, meat, honey, and sesame) to prepare them for competing against wrestlers from other tribes.
New Arenas
Due to the repeated civil wars in Sudan, which affected South Kordofan, many people began migrating in the 1970s, seeking safety and new opportunities. This movement brought displaced populations to other states, particularly the capital, Khartoum, and its outskirts. Along with them came their traditions, culture, and rituals, including dances like Karnak and Kambala, as well as wrestling. The latter gained widespread popularity as a sport, leading to the establishment of several wrestling arenas in places like Haj Yousif (East Nile) and Abu Hamad (Omdurman). These arenas now host diverse audiences of Sudanese and foreigners twice a week to enjoy and cheer on the matches.
The transformation of wrestling from a cultural practice to a sport brought changes to some of its rules and the way wrestlers (known as “Knights” in the Nuba Mountains) adorn themselves. Wrestling now operates under established laws and regulations. Additionally, the Sudanese Wrestling Federation was established to oversee the sport. Players began affiliating with clubs rather than the tribal groups from which they originated.
Due to the notable similarities between Sudanese wrestling and Japanese sumo wrestling, Sudanese arenas have, on several occasions, seen participation from Japanese individuals, including the Japanese diplomat Yasuhiro Morotatsu.
In March 2022, the fifth national wrestling championship concluded in the city of Khashm al-Qirba (Kassala State). The event, first organized by the Sudanese Wrestling Federation in 2017 in Khartoum, has since become an annual gathering hosted by various states, including Gedaref, Kassala, Blue Nile, and again in Kassala in March 2022. The championship was held under the slogan, "Through Wrestling, We Strengthen Peace," with six states participating: South Kordofan, White Nile, Gedaref, Khartoum, Red Sea, and Kassala. However, West and North Kordofan, Sennar, Northern State, and Blue Nile apologised for not taking part.
International Participation
In recent years, the Sudanese national wrestling team has participated in several African and Arab championships, achieving a notable number of titles and medals. The team won two bronze medals at the African Championship in Nigeria in 2018 and five additional medals at the Arab Championship in Sharm El-Sheikh, Egypt. The team further enhanced its experience and international participation, culminating in winning 12 medals at the 2019 Arab Championship and the Ibrahim Mustafa International Tournament.
Last May marked a new breakthrough for Sudanese wrestling on the international stage. Sudanese wrestler Patricia Saif al-Din, the first female wrestler to compete in an international tournament, achieved third place and won a bronze medal in the 68 kg category at the African Championship held in Morocco, which featured participants from 34 countries.
It is worth noting that Patricia is one of many women who have joined wrestling through the Talent Discovery Project, a programme organized in partnership with the International Olympic Committee and international federations. The Wrestling Federation benefited from this initiative in 2018, with Patricia securing one of the top positions in the programme and further participated in the Paris 2024 Olympics.
A New Generation
The rise of wrestling and its appeal across all age groups has emphasized the need for institutions to nurture and train young talents of both genders. To this end, the Wrestling Federation has been organizing martial arts training sessions for boys and girls aged 7–19, aiming to develop the sport by providing the necessary skills and education.
The fifth session of the Martial Arts School Project was held before the war, targeting school students. Around 150 boys and girls from Unity National Schools (East Nile) participated. The project is implemented by the Sudanese Wrestling Federation in partnership with the International Center for Martial Arts (South Korea) and under the sponsorship of UNESCO.
The spread of wrestling and its transformation from a social and ritual activity tied to harvest celebrations in the Nuba Mountains into a widely-followed sport across Sudan showcases the value of cultural exchange. It highlights the openness of cultures to one another and the intermingling of traditions.
The video shows footage of the 2020 Nuba festival held in Khartoum, the festival included traditional dancing and traditional Nuba wrestling, a popular sports that attracts hundreds of people every week to watch. Filmed by Snoop for the Western Sudan Community Museums project
Cover picture: Every Friday, Sudanese wrestling takes place between Nubian and South Sudanese tribes in Haj Yousif © Mohammed Osman, Khartoum
A wooden bowl with a cover and, a cylindrical shape, it is made of wood, and used for keeping dry fragrance, it is part of tools that are used in wedding ceremonies all around Sudan
Used since ancient times up to today
Darfur museum collection
A wooden bowl with a cover and, a cylindrical shape, it is made of wood, and used for keeping dry fragrance, it is part of tools that are used in wedding ceremonies all around Sudan
Used since ancient times up to today
Darfur museum collection
A wooden bowl with a cover and, a cylindrical shape, it is made of wood, and used for keeping dry fragrance, it is part of tools that are used in wedding ceremonies all around Sudan
Used since ancient times up to today
Darfur museum collection
“What resilience means to me” - the journey of a young Sudanese filmmaker
Snoopy’s connection to the Sudanese filmmaking industry began when he took on an acting role in a small production when he was still at university in Khartoum. This experience, in 2013, was a catalyst for Snoopy who sensed his own potential to become more involved in the industry and to even produce his own films. Together with a group of friends who shared his vision of striking out alone, they set up their own production company, which they called In Deep Visions. The company started small with short productions including a fiction film Marina and two short horror movies The Curse and The Curse ll. While working at the company, Snoopy continued to be involved with other filmmakers and their productions as an actor or cameraman. One example is his shooting of the film Khartoum Offside directed by Marwa Zein about the travails of a Sudanese women’s football team trying to defy social and political odds to play their beloved game professionally.
The Sudanese Revolution of 2018-2019 was a historic moment which inspired young creatives with the sense of freedom and change it promised. Snoopy and In Deep Visions were no exception. He took part in shooting the film Sudan Remember Us directed by Hind Meddeb, which captured the joy and hope of the Sudanese people during their Revolution. A Journey to Kenya, a film documenting the trip undertaken by a Sudanese jiu-jitsu team to take part in a tournament in Kenya with minimal funds and having to overcome countless adversities en route in their clapped out mini-bus, was produced by In Deep Visions shortly after hopes of the Revolution’s success began to diminish.
Another monumental event for Sudan was the war that broke out in 2023 and which shattered the lives of millions with the extreme violence that was unleashed. As a result, Snoopy and many other young creatives were forced to leave Sudan, with many of them settling in neighbouring countries. Now residing in Kenya, Snoopy continues to work on a range of projects including co-directing the feature documentary Khartoum, a joint production by ‘Native Film Voices’ and the ‘Sudan Film Factory’. Shooting on this film began before the war following the lives of five individuals in Khartoum and the adversities they have to overcome. The film had not yet been finalised when fighting broke out and as a result, the team has had to tweak the storyline and creative cinematic effects were incorporated to finalise production.
Stories of resilience, according to Snoopy, are of becoming a success story and of accomplishing dreams or achieving goals. He believes that while everyone has dreams and goals in life, not everyone can achieve these, sometimes because they lack inspiration or knowledge of how to proceed. In order to achieve their goals, Snoopy claims they must have a plan and be inspired by someone from their own community, “I need the Michael Jordan of my own community so that I can believe in myself more”, he explains. Spoopy points out that while many inspiring Sudanese success stories can be found on sites like Facebook, most of the time these types of stories are not represented or documented. According to the young filmmaker, having the determination to achieve goals is not contingent on age, gender or any other classification, but emphasises the importance of how this goal is reached such as whether it is achieved with others or the pace at which it is realised. Sometimes “just surviving another day is also a form of resilience”, he points out.
In response to a question about whether he thinks there is a typically Sudanese form of resilience, snoopy explains that whilst determination to achieve a specific goal is a universal attribute, small details can be said to be uniquely Sudanese, giving the example of recent protests in Kenya and how they were organised compared to how youth in Sudan mobilised during the Revolution. One of the most recent productions by In Deep Visions is the music video We’ll Return Again which taps into the resilience of the Sudanese who have had to flee the war and their deep longing to return. Snoopy describes the music and lyrics of the song as emotional and uplifting, unlike the melancholy tunes of other Sudanese songs that have been produced during wartime. The song is one of hope, telling those Sudanese who have remained in the country that “we are coming back” and that “we want to send you this message to say that we haven’t forgotten about you.”
Perhaps the best way to appreciate Snoopy’s resilience is to see what he and his friends at In Deep Visions have achieved since they set out to make their own films ten years ago. Through sheer grit and determination, they have overcome all the set-backs and “dramas” that creatives face on a daily basis in Sudan and most importantly the brutal circumstances of repression and war. An accolade of local awards including at the Taharqa, Sudan Independent, Khartoum and European film festivals have made Snoopy a household name in Sudan. This trust placed in him by the public has in turn boosted the filmmaker’s confidence in himself. It is no surprise therefore to learn that Khartoum, the film Snoopy is co-directing, is scheduled for screening in early 2025 at the prestigious, and internationally renowned, Sundance film festival. Snoopy is extremely proud of this achievement and points out that it has not been a coincidence or luck but rather the result of very hard work, creativity and determination.
On the song:
Production: In Deep Vision films and performed by Moawia Ahmed Khalid, Mohamed Adam Abu, Beha Al-ameen, and Shamseldien Alhag came out on the 10th of October “The World Mental Health Day”. The song was Produced by Niile and written by Mahmoud Algaily.
you can listen to “Raj3een Tany” official song on Soundcloud
Sponsored by Tarco aviation , Cashi, 106.6 PRO FM
Poster design : Nihal Kamal
“What resilience means to me” - the journey of a young Sudanese filmmaker
Snoopy’s connection to the Sudanese filmmaking industry began when he took on an acting role in a small production when he was still at university in Khartoum. This experience, in 2013, was a catalyst for Snoopy who sensed his own potential to become more involved in the industry and to even produce his own films. Together with a group of friends who shared his vision of striking out alone, they set up their own production company, which they called In Deep Visions. The company started small with short productions including a fiction film Marina and two short horror movies The Curse and The Curse ll. While working at the company, Snoopy continued to be involved with other filmmakers and their productions as an actor or cameraman. One example is his shooting of the film Khartoum Offside directed by Marwa Zein about the travails of a Sudanese women’s football team trying to defy social and political odds to play their beloved game professionally.
The Sudanese Revolution of 2018-2019 was a historic moment which inspired young creatives with the sense of freedom and change it promised. Snoopy and In Deep Visions were no exception. He took part in shooting the film Sudan Remember Us directed by Hind Meddeb, which captured the joy and hope of the Sudanese people during their Revolution. A Journey to Kenya, a film documenting the trip undertaken by a Sudanese jiu-jitsu team to take part in a tournament in Kenya with minimal funds and having to overcome countless adversities en route in their clapped out mini-bus, was produced by In Deep Visions shortly after hopes of the Revolution’s success began to diminish.
Another monumental event for Sudan was the war that broke out in 2023 and which shattered the lives of millions with the extreme violence that was unleashed. As a result, Snoopy and many other young creatives were forced to leave Sudan, with many of them settling in neighbouring countries. Now residing in Kenya, Snoopy continues to work on a range of projects including co-directing the feature documentary Khartoum, a joint production by ‘Native Film Voices’ and the ‘Sudan Film Factory’. Shooting on this film began before the war following the lives of five individuals in Khartoum and the adversities they have to overcome. The film had not yet been finalised when fighting broke out and as a result, the team has had to tweak the storyline and creative cinematic effects were incorporated to finalise production.
Stories of resilience, according to Snoopy, are of becoming a success story and of accomplishing dreams or achieving goals. He believes that while everyone has dreams and goals in life, not everyone can achieve these, sometimes because they lack inspiration or knowledge of how to proceed. In order to achieve their goals, Snoopy claims they must have a plan and be inspired by someone from their own community, “I need the Michael Jordan of my own community so that I can believe in myself more”, he explains. Spoopy points out that while many inspiring Sudanese success stories can be found on sites like Facebook, most of the time these types of stories are not represented or documented. According to the young filmmaker, having the determination to achieve goals is not contingent on age, gender or any other classification, but emphasises the importance of how this goal is reached such as whether it is achieved with others or the pace at which it is realised. Sometimes “just surviving another day is also a form of resilience”, he points out.
In response to a question about whether he thinks there is a typically Sudanese form of resilience, snoopy explains that whilst determination to achieve a specific goal is a universal attribute, small details can be said to be uniquely Sudanese, giving the example of recent protests in Kenya and how they were organised compared to how youth in Sudan mobilised during the Revolution. One of the most recent productions by In Deep Visions is the music video We’ll Return Again which taps into the resilience of the Sudanese who have had to flee the war and their deep longing to return. Snoopy describes the music and lyrics of the song as emotional and uplifting, unlike the melancholy tunes of other Sudanese songs that have been produced during wartime. The song is one of hope, telling those Sudanese who have remained in the country that “we are coming back” and that “we want to send you this message to say that we haven’t forgotten about you.”
Perhaps the best way to appreciate Snoopy’s resilience is to see what he and his friends at In Deep Visions have achieved since they set out to make their own films ten years ago. Through sheer grit and determination, they have overcome all the set-backs and “dramas” that creatives face on a daily basis in Sudan and most importantly the brutal circumstances of repression and war. An accolade of local awards including at the Taharqa, Sudan Independent, Khartoum and European film festivals have made Snoopy a household name in Sudan. This trust placed in him by the public has in turn boosted the filmmaker’s confidence in himself. It is no surprise therefore to learn that Khartoum, the film Snoopy is co-directing, is scheduled for screening in early 2025 at the prestigious, and internationally renowned, Sundance film festival. Snoopy is extremely proud of this achievement and points out that it has not been a coincidence or luck but rather the result of very hard work, creativity and determination.
On the song:
Production: In Deep Vision films and performed by Moawia Ahmed Khalid, Mohamed Adam Abu, Beha Al-ameen, and Shamseldien Alhag came out on the 10th of October “The World Mental Health Day”. The song was Produced by Niile and written by Mahmoud Algaily.
you can listen to “Raj3een Tany” official song on Soundcloud
Sponsored by Tarco aviation , Cashi, 106.6 PRO FM
Poster design : Nihal Kamal
“What resilience means to me” - the journey of a young Sudanese filmmaker
Snoopy’s connection to the Sudanese filmmaking industry began when he took on an acting role in a small production when he was still at university in Khartoum. This experience, in 2013, was a catalyst for Snoopy who sensed his own potential to become more involved in the industry and to even produce his own films. Together with a group of friends who shared his vision of striking out alone, they set up their own production company, which they called In Deep Visions. The company started small with short productions including a fiction film Marina and two short horror movies The Curse and The Curse ll. While working at the company, Snoopy continued to be involved with other filmmakers and their productions as an actor or cameraman. One example is his shooting of the film Khartoum Offside directed by Marwa Zein about the travails of a Sudanese women’s football team trying to defy social and political odds to play their beloved game professionally.
The Sudanese Revolution of 2018-2019 was a historic moment which inspired young creatives with the sense of freedom and change it promised. Snoopy and In Deep Visions were no exception. He took part in shooting the film Sudan Remember Us directed by Hind Meddeb, which captured the joy and hope of the Sudanese people during their Revolution. A Journey to Kenya, a film documenting the trip undertaken by a Sudanese jiu-jitsu team to take part in a tournament in Kenya with minimal funds and having to overcome countless adversities en route in their clapped out mini-bus, was produced by In Deep Visions shortly after hopes of the Revolution’s success began to diminish.
Another monumental event for Sudan was the war that broke out in 2023 and which shattered the lives of millions with the extreme violence that was unleashed. As a result, Snoopy and many other young creatives were forced to leave Sudan, with many of them settling in neighbouring countries. Now residing in Kenya, Snoopy continues to work on a range of projects including co-directing the feature documentary Khartoum, a joint production by ‘Native Film Voices’ and the ‘Sudan Film Factory’. Shooting on this film began before the war following the lives of five individuals in Khartoum and the adversities they have to overcome. The film had not yet been finalised when fighting broke out and as a result, the team has had to tweak the storyline and creative cinematic effects were incorporated to finalise production.
Stories of resilience, according to Snoopy, are of becoming a success story and of accomplishing dreams or achieving goals. He believes that while everyone has dreams and goals in life, not everyone can achieve these, sometimes because they lack inspiration or knowledge of how to proceed. In order to achieve their goals, Snoopy claims they must have a plan and be inspired by someone from their own community, “I need the Michael Jordan of my own community so that I can believe in myself more”, he explains. Spoopy points out that while many inspiring Sudanese success stories can be found on sites like Facebook, most of the time these types of stories are not represented or documented. According to the young filmmaker, having the determination to achieve goals is not contingent on age, gender or any other classification, but emphasises the importance of how this goal is reached such as whether it is achieved with others or the pace at which it is realised. Sometimes “just surviving another day is also a form of resilience”, he points out.
In response to a question about whether he thinks there is a typically Sudanese form of resilience, snoopy explains that whilst determination to achieve a specific goal is a universal attribute, small details can be said to be uniquely Sudanese, giving the example of recent protests in Kenya and how they were organised compared to how youth in Sudan mobilised during the Revolution. One of the most recent productions by In Deep Visions is the music video We’ll Return Again which taps into the resilience of the Sudanese who have had to flee the war and their deep longing to return. Snoopy describes the music and lyrics of the song as emotional and uplifting, unlike the melancholy tunes of other Sudanese songs that have been produced during wartime. The song is one of hope, telling those Sudanese who have remained in the country that “we are coming back” and that “we want to send you this message to say that we haven’t forgotten about you.”
Perhaps the best way to appreciate Snoopy’s resilience is to see what he and his friends at In Deep Visions have achieved since they set out to make their own films ten years ago. Through sheer grit and determination, they have overcome all the set-backs and “dramas” that creatives face on a daily basis in Sudan and most importantly the brutal circumstances of repression and war. An accolade of local awards including at the Taharqa, Sudan Independent, Khartoum and European film festivals have made Snoopy a household name in Sudan. This trust placed in him by the public has in turn boosted the filmmaker’s confidence in himself. It is no surprise therefore to learn that Khartoum, the film Snoopy is co-directing, is scheduled for screening in early 2025 at the prestigious, and internationally renowned, Sundance film festival. Snoopy is extremely proud of this achievement and points out that it has not been a coincidence or luck but rather the result of very hard work, creativity and determination.
On the song:
Production: In Deep Vision films and performed by Moawia Ahmed Khalid, Mohamed Adam Abu, Beha Al-ameen, and Shamseldien Alhag came out on the 10th of October “The World Mental Health Day”. The song was Produced by Niile and written by Mahmoud Algaily.
you can listen to “Raj3een Tany” official song on Soundcloud
Sponsored by Tarco aviation , Cashi, 106.6 PRO FM
Poster design : Nihal Kamal
Wad Rahom village is located approximately 2 kilometres south of Rufaa city in the central Gezira State. It is one of the villages that possess a big collection of artifacts and remains dating back to the Mahdist state in the late nineteenth century. What distinguishes the village of Wad Rahom is its fame for producing handmade textiles with a reputation for the superior quality of its cotton products such as the firad, a traditional handmade length of material used as a garment or as a cover at night. Ganja is another form of woven cotton and is mostly worn as a traditional wrap by men. Men’s scarves, shalat, and the jalabiyyat damour gowns are some other examples of woven items.
The weaving loom itself consists of several parts known as the idda which includes the heddle, daffa, reeds, tawriq, beater, dagag and the pedals naalat. The hardan, an essential part of the weaving operation, is kept remotely from the loom, hence its name, which means to sulk in the local language. Other complementary tools include the comb, shuttle, and lam.
Wad Rahom’s collection of hand looms, which fathers and grandfathers relied on for their livelihoods during the Mahadist period, have been passed down through generations. However, over time the looms were abandoned and remained unused for decades, until the charitable organization El-Tadafuq decided to open a branch office in eastern Gezira, and selected Wad Rahum village as its headquarters. The organisation set about rehabilitating the old looms and as a result, the weaving industry was revived and production continues to serve as a source of income for the villagers. El-Tadafuq’s first branch in Wad Rahom, aims to serve as a resource for traditional handicrafts and a place where challenges faced by loom owners and other artisans in the village can be address including metalworkers, carpenters, upholsterers, and leathersmiths.
In addition to the weaving looms, the village has a collection of artifacts dating back to the Mahdist period, such as swords, spears, and grindstones used for milling corn, as well as clay pots and other artifacts.
The above text was part of a temporary exhibition by El-Tadafoq charitable organization at the Khalifa House Community Museum in 2021.
Cover picture © Griselda El Tayib collection
Wad Rahom village is located approximately 2 kilometres south of Rufaa city in the central Gezira State. It is one of the villages that possess a big collection of artifacts and remains dating back to the Mahdist state in the late nineteenth century. What distinguishes the village of Wad Rahom is its fame for producing handmade textiles with a reputation for the superior quality of its cotton products such as the firad, a traditional handmade length of material used as a garment or as a cover at night. Ganja is another form of woven cotton and is mostly worn as a traditional wrap by men. Men’s scarves, shalat, and the jalabiyyat damour gowns are some other examples of woven items.
The weaving loom itself consists of several parts known as the idda which includes the heddle, daffa, reeds, tawriq, beater, dagag and the pedals naalat. The hardan, an essential part of the weaving operation, is kept remotely from the loom, hence its name, which means to sulk in the local language. Other complementary tools include the comb, shuttle, and lam.
Wad Rahom’s collection of hand looms, which fathers and grandfathers relied on for their livelihoods during the Mahadist period, have been passed down through generations. However, over time the looms were abandoned and remained unused for decades, until the charitable organization El-Tadafuq decided to open a branch office in eastern Gezira, and selected Wad Rahum village as its headquarters. The organisation set about rehabilitating the old looms and as a result, the weaving industry was revived and production continues to serve as a source of income for the villagers. El-Tadafuq’s first branch in Wad Rahom, aims to serve as a resource for traditional handicrafts and a place where challenges faced by loom owners and other artisans in the village can be address including metalworkers, carpenters, upholsterers, and leathersmiths.
In addition to the weaving looms, the village has a collection of artifacts dating back to the Mahdist period, such as swords, spears, and grindstones used for milling corn, as well as clay pots and other artifacts.
The above text was part of a temporary exhibition by El-Tadafoq charitable organization at the Khalifa House Community Museum in 2021.
Cover picture © Griselda El Tayib collection
Wad Rahom village is located approximately 2 kilometres south of Rufaa city in the central Gezira State. It is one of the villages that possess a big collection of artifacts and remains dating back to the Mahdist state in the late nineteenth century. What distinguishes the village of Wad Rahom is its fame for producing handmade textiles with a reputation for the superior quality of its cotton products such as the firad, a traditional handmade length of material used as a garment or as a cover at night. Ganja is another form of woven cotton and is mostly worn as a traditional wrap by men. Men’s scarves, shalat, and the jalabiyyat damour gowns are some other examples of woven items.
The weaving loom itself consists of several parts known as the idda which includes the heddle, daffa, reeds, tawriq, beater, dagag and the pedals naalat. The hardan, an essential part of the weaving operation, is kept remotely from the loom, hence its name, which means to sulk in the local language. Other complementary tools include the comb, shuttle, and lam.
Wad Rahom’s collection of hand looms, which fathers and grandfathers relied on for their livelihoods during the Mahadist period, have been passed down through generations. However, over time the looms were abandoned and remained unused for decades, until the charitable organization El-Tadafuq decided to open a branch office in eastern Gezira, and selected Wad Rahum village as its headquarters. The organisation set about rehabilitating the old looms and as a result, the weaving industry was revived and production continues to serve as a source of income for the villagers. El-Tadafuq’s first branch in Wad Rahom, aims to serve as a resource for traditional handicrafts and a place where challenges faced by loom owners and other artisans in the village can be address including metalworkers, carpenters, upholsterers, and leathersmiths.
In addition to the weaving looms, the village has a collection of artifacts dating back to the Mahdist period, such as swords, spears, and grindstones used for milling corn, as well as clay pots and other artifacts.
The above text was part of a temporary exhibition by El-Tadafoq charitable organization at the Khalifa House Community Museum in 2021.
Cover picture © Griselda El Tayib collection
Al Shoura Court
Administration of the Mahdiya State during the rule of Al Khalifa Abdullah
Following Imam Al Mahdi’s death, Al Khalifa Abdullah assumed leadership of the Mahdiya State. He did not fundamentally change the administrative foundation drawn up by Al Mahdi for the government. However, his longer rule meant he could focus on filling in the shortcomings and inconsistencies that appeared during the practical application of Al Mahdi’s plan.
Al Khalifa had the absolute authority to execute his judgment as he saw fit. He gave his brother Yagoub authority over police affairs, while the Judge of Islam had judicial authority. Al Khalifa relied on his Amirs in military matters and would meet daily with his senior advisors in the Shura Court to discuss the State’s affairs. He split the administration of the country into eight Amalat provinces, gave the title Amil (Governor) to the ruler of each province, and the title Amir to the commander of the army stationed there.
Al Khalifa divided the Amalat provinces into two types:
Military Amala, on the outskirts of the states, governed by military leaders, and the main line of defence against invasion.
Urban Amala, as the central prefectures ruled by Al Khalifa Abdullah, and supervised by civil officials.
Al Khalifa monitored the management of the Amalat using the postal system. He assigned to each Amil several Amirs to help lead and maintain their army, together with several tax collectors and a few confidential clerks who could correspond discreetly. When a crisis occurred, Al Khalifa Abdullah would send a delegation from the Trustees Council to investigate and solve it. Although Al Khalifa did not visit the Amalat, he would hold meetings on set dates during the festivals of Rajabiya (27 Rajab), Eid Al Adha, and Eid Al Fitr to keep himself informed of their affairs and to receive reports and consultations.
Cover picture: Shura Court © Khalifa House museum
Al Shoura Court
Administration of the Mahdiya State during the rule of Al Khalifa Abdullah
Following Imam Al Mahdi’s death, Al Khalifa Abdullah assumed leadership of the Mahdiya State. He did not fundamentally change the administrative foundation drawn up by Al Mahdi for the government. However, his longer rule meant he could focus on filling in the shortcomings and inconsistencies that appeared during the practical application of Al Mahdi’s plan.
Al Khalifa had the absolute authority to execute his judgment as he saw fit. He gave his brother Yagoub authority over police affairs, while the Judge of Islam had judicial authority. Al Khalifa relied on his Amirs in military matters and would meet daily with his senior advisors in the Shura Court to discuss the State’s affairs. He split the administration of the country into eight Amalat provinces, gave the title Amil (Governor) to the ruler of each province, and the title Amir to the commander of the army stationed there.
Al Khalifa divided the Amalat provinces into two types:
Military Amala, on the outskirts of the states, governed by military leaders, and the main line of defence against invasion.
Urban Amala, as the central prefectures ruled by Al Khalifa Abdullah, and supervised by civil officials.
Al Khalifa monitored the management of the Amalat using the postal system. He assigned to each Amil several Amirs to help lead and maintain their army, together with several tax collectors and a few confidential clerks who could correspond discreetly. When a crisis occurred, Al Khalifa Abdullah would send a delegation from the Trustees Council to investigate and solve it. Although Al Khalifa did not visit the Amalat, he would hold meetings on set dates during the festivals of Rajabiya (27 Rajab), Eid Al Adha, and Eid Al Fitr to keep himself informed of their affairs and to receive reports and consultations.
Cover picture: Shura Court © Khalifa House museum
Al Shoura Court
Administration of the Mahdiya State during the rule of Al Khalifa Abdullah
Following Imam Al Mahdi’s death, Al Khalifa Abdullah assumed leadership of the Mahdiya State. He did not fundamentally change the administrative foundation drawn up by Al Mahdi for the government. However, his longer rule meant he could focus on filling in the shortcomings and inconsistencies that appeared during the practical application of Al Mahdi’s plan.
Al Khalifa had the absolute authority to execute his judgment as he saw fit. He gave his brother Yagoub authority over police affairs, while the Judge of Islam had judicial authority. Al Khalifa relied on his Amirs in military matters and would meet daily with his senior advisors in the Shura Court to discuss the State’s affairs. He split the administration of the country into eight Amalat provinces, gave the title Amil (Governor) to the ruler of each province, and the title Amir to the commander of the army stationed there.
Al Khalifa divided the Amalat provinces into two types:
Military Amala, on the outskirts of the states, governed by military leaders, and the main line of defence against invasion.
Urban Amala, as the central prefectures ruled by Al Khalifa Abdullah, and supervised by civil officials.
Al Khalifa monitored the management of the Amalat using the postal system. He assigned to each Amil several Amirs to help lead and maintain their army, together with several tax collectors and a few confidential clerks who could correspond discreetly. When a crisis occurred, Al Khalifa Abdullah would send a delegation from the Trustees Council to investigate and solve it. Although Al Khalifa did not visit the Amalat, he would hold meetings on set dates during the festivals of Rajabiya (27 Rajab), Eid Al Adha, and Eid Al Fitr to keep himself informed of their affairs and to receive reports and consultations.
Cover picture: Shura Court © Khalifa House museum
Connecting Communities: How Surveys Promote Understanding and Coexisting
Surveys are more than just a way to gather data; they are powerful tools that can help build understanding and peace, especially among communities marked by cultural diversity or where conflict has emerged. By asking the right questions, surveys help uncover common ground, highlight shared experiences, and bring different groups together. In societies where divisions run deep, surveys can provide a neutral space for conversation and reconciliation, making them vital for promoting peaceful coexistence.
At their core, surveys are designed to collect perspectives and experiences from people, helping us understand their needs, values, and concerns. The strength of surveys lies in their ability to reach diverse communities, ensuring that every voice is heard. In areas where tensions exist, whether due to ethnicity, religion, or politics, surveys can reveal that people, regardless of background, often share similar hopes, challenges, and desires. These shared experiences can be a starting point for building empathy and breaking down barriers.
For example, surveys conducted in post-conflict zones can uncover underlying issues like access to education, healthcare, or economic opportunity. These common concerns highlight the ways different groups face similar challenges, encouraging them to focus on what unites them rather than what divides them. By bringing attention to shared issues, surveys help foster dialogue between communities, creating a foundation for collaboration and peace.
One particularly powerful example of this comes from Sudan, where surveys have been used as tools for inclusion. The Darfur Material Culture Survey was a great illustration of how surveys can connect people across different cultural and ethnic backgrounds. It was conducted by the Institute of African and Asian Studies in collaboration with Nyala University and teams of researchers from all across Darfur. It was conducted in partnership with the Western Sudan Community Museums project and the National Corporation for Antiquities and Museums (NCAM). The researchers documented everyday objects like agricultural tools, cooking implements, and traditional footwear—items that, while designed in different ways depending on the region, served similar functions in people’s daily lives.
One notable object was the markoob a type of traditional leather shoe worn throughout Sudan. Though the leather and designs vary from one area to another, the markoob serves the same purpose: providing comfort and protection. This simple object speaks to the shared cultural practices that cut across ethnic lines. Similarly, the pottery used for cooking and storing food in Sudan’s diverse communities has common features, reflecting similar ways of adapting to each region's environment.
By highlighting these shared practices, this material culture survey did more than document cultural artefacts by helping to create a sense of unity. People from different backgrounds saw their own traditions reflected in the items of others, sparking a sense of connection. The exhibition showcasing the survey’s outcome which was organised by the Western Sudan Community Museums at the Darfur Museum in Nyala allowed visitors to engage with these objects, and by doing so, they were reminded of the common values and experiences they share. This kind of cultural exchange helps bridge divides, turning differences into opportunities for mutual understanding.
Surveys also play an important role in identifying sources of differences, which is crucial for peacebuilding efforts. These insights allow policymakers and community leaders to address the root causes of conflict and work towards solutions that benefit everyone. In this way, surveys act as a kind of diagnostic tool for societies in need of common ground to prompt unity.
Another significant benefit of surveys is that they give a voice to those who are often marginalized or excluded from the conversation. In many conflict-prone regions, some groups – whether based on ethnicity, gender, or age – feel left out of key decision-making processes. Surveys provide an opportunity for these groups to share their experiences and perspectives. When people who feel unheard are included in the dialogue, it not only empowers them but also ensures that peacebuilding efforts are more inclusive and representative of the entire community.
Trust and transparency are also key elements of any successful peace process, and surveys help build both. In post-conflict societies, trust between different groups can be fragile. By assessing how people view institutions, such as the government or local leaders, surveys provide valuable insights into the state of social trust. Understanding what factors strengthen or weaken trust in a community allows peacebuilders to design interventions that address these issues, whether through community engagement, or rebuilding social institutions.
In Sudan, surveys like the one conducted by Nyala University with research teams from all over Darfur help foster trust by focusing on the things that unite rather than divide. By highlighting shared cultural practices, these surveys create a platform for dialogue that encourages people to see one another as neighbours. This approach helps shift the focus from differences to common goals, laying the groundwork for long-term peace and stability.
Surveys also offer a way to track progress in peacebuilding efforts. In societies recovering from conflict, it is important to measure whether inclusion efforts are making a real impact. By gathering data on people’s attitudes towards their communities, traditions, and culture, surveys provide critical feedback for governments, NGOs, development initiatives, heritage preservation initiatives and different organizations. This ongoing assessment ensures that inclusion and peacebuilding strategies are evolving to meet the needs of the population and remain effective over time.
All in all, surveys are more than just tools for collecting data, they are instruments for promoting peaceful coexistence. By highlighting shared practices, ways of life, uncovering similarities, and giving marginalized voices a platform, surveys help bridge divides and foster understanding. The example of the Darfur Material Culture Survey in Sudan shows how surveys can bring communities together, using common cultural practices as a foundation for unity. Ultimately, surveys provide a way for societies to reflect on what they have in common, helping to build understanding and cooperation needed to move toward lasting peace and harmony.
Cover picture: Markob seller, The cities of Nyala and El Fashir are famous for making traditional shoes called markob, which are men's shoes made of animal skins.© Issam Ahmed Abdelhafiez, South Darfur
Connecting Communities: How Surveys Promote Understanding and Coexisting
Surveys are more than just a way to gather data; they are powerful tools that can help build understanding and peace, especially among communities marked by cultural diversity or where conflict has emerged. By asking the right questions, surveys help uncover common ground, highlight shared experiences, and bring different groups together. In societies where divisions run deep, surveys can provide a neutral space for conversation and reconciliation, making them vital for promoting peaceful coexistence.
At their core, surveys are designed to collect perspectives and experiences from people, helping us understand their needs, values, and concerns. The strength of surveys lies in their ability to reach diverse communities, ensuring that every voice is heard. In areas where tensions exist, whether due to ethnicity, religion, or politics, surveys can reveal that people, regardless of background, often share similar hopes, challenges, and desires. These shared experiences can be a starting point for building empathy and breaking down barriers.
For example, surveys conducted in post-conflict zones can uncover underlying issues like access to education, healthcare, or economic opportunity. These common concerns highlight the ways different groups face similar challenges, encouraging them to focus on what unites them rather than what divides them. By bringing attention to shared issues, surveys help foster dialogue between communities, creating a foundation for collaboration and peace.
One particularly powerful example of this comes from Sudan, where surveys have been used as tools for inclusion. The Darfur Material Culture Survey was a great illustration of how surveys can connect people across different cultural and ethnic backgrounds. It was conducted by the Institute of African and Asian Studies in collaboration with Nyala University and teams of researchers from all across Darfur. It was conducted in partnership with the Western Sudan Community Museums project and the National Corporation for Antiquities and Museums (NCAM). The researchers documented everyday objects like agricultural tools, cooking implements, and traditional footwear—items that, while designed in different ways depending on the region, served similar functions in people’s daily lives.
One notable object was the markoob a type of traditional leather shoe worn throughout Sudan. Though the leather and designs vary from one area to another, the markoob serves the same purpose: providing comfort and protection. This simple object speaks to the shared cultural practices that cut across ethnic lines. Similarly, the pottery used for cooking and storing food in Sudan’s diverse communities has common features, reflecting similar ways of adapting to each region's environment.
By highlighting these shared practices, this material culture survey did more than document cultural artefacts by helping to create a sense of unity. People from different backgrounds saw their own traditions reflected in the items of others, sparking a sense of connection. The exhibition showcasing the survey’s outcome which was organised by the Western Sudan Community Museums at the Darfur Museum in Nyala allowed visitors to engage with these objects, and by doing so, they were reminded of the common values and experiences they share. This kind of cultural exchange helps bridge divides, turning differences into opportunities for mutual understanding.
Surveys also play an important role in identifying sources of differences, which is crucial for peacebuilding efforts. These insights allow policymakers and community leaders to address the root causes of conflict and work towards solutions that benefit everyone. In this way, surveys act as a kind of diagnostic tool for societies in need of common ground to prompt unity.
Another significant benefit of surveys is that they give a voice to those who are often marginalized or excluded from the conversation. In many conflict-prone regions, some groups – whether based on ethnicity, gender, or age – feel left out of key decision-making processes. Surveys provide an opportunity for these groups to share their experiences and perspectives. When people who feel unheard are included in the dialogue, it not only empowers them but also ensures that peacebuilding efforts are more inclusive and representative of the entire community.
Trust and transparency are also key elements of any successful peace process, and surveys help build both. In post-conflict societies, trust between different groups can be fragile. By assessing how people view institutions, such as the government or local leaders, surveys provide valuable insights into the state of social trust. Understanding what factors strengthen or weaken trust in a community allows peacebuilders to design interventions that address these issues, whether through community engagement, or rebuilding social institutions.
In Sudan, surveys like the one conducted by Nyala University with research teams from all over Darfur help foster trust by focusing on the things that unite rather than divide. By highlighting shared cultural practices, these surveys create a platform for dialogue that encourages people to see one another as neighbours. This approach helps shift the focus from differences to common goals, laying the groundwork for long-term peace and stability.
Surveys also offer a way to track progress in peacebuilding efforts. In societies recovering from conflict, it is important to measure whether inclusion efforts are making a real impact. By gathering data on people’s attitudes towards their communities, traditions, and culture, surveys provide critical feedback for governments, NGOs, development initiatives, heritage preservation initiatives and different organizations. This ongoing assessment ensures that inclusion and peacebuilding strategies are evolving to meet the needs of the population and remain effective over time.
All in all, surveys are more than just tools for collecting data, they are instruments for promoting peaceful coexistence. By highlighting shared practices, ways of life, uncovering similarities, and giving marginalized voices a platform, surveys help bridge divides and foster understanding. The example of the Darfur Material Culture Survey in Sudan shows how surveys can bring communities together, using common cultural practices as a foundation for unity. Ultimately, surveys provide a way for societies to reflect on what they have in common, helping to build understanding and cooperation needed to move toward lasting peace and harmony.
Cover picture: Markob seller, The cities of Nyala and El Fashir are famous for making traditional shoes called markob, which are men's shoes made of animal skins.© Issam Ahmed Abdelhafiez, South Darfur
Connecting Communities: How Surveys Promote Understanding and Coexisting
Surveys are more than just a way to gather data; they are powerful tools that can help build understanding and peace, especially among communities marked by cultural diversity or where conflict has emerged. By asking the right questions, surveys help uncover common ground, highlight shared experiences, and bring different groups together. In societies where divisions run deep, surveys can provide a neutral space for conversation and reconciliation, making them vital for promoting peaceful coexistence.
At their core, surveys are designed to collect perspectives and experiences from people, helping us understand their needs, values, and concerns. The strength of surveys lies in their ability to reach diverse communities, ensuring that every voice is heard. In areas where tensions exist, whether due to ethnicity, religion, or politics, surveys can reveal that people, regardless of background, often share similar hopes, challenges, and desires. These shared experiences can be a starting point for building empathy and breaking down barriers.
For example, surveys conducted in post-conflict zones can uncover underlying issues like access to education, healthcare, or economic opportunity. These common concerns highlight the ways different groups face similar challenges, encouraging them to focus on what unites them rather than what divides them. By bringing attention to shared issues, surveys help foster dialogue between communities, creating a foundation for collaboration and peace.
One particularly powerful example of this comes from Sudan, where surveys have been used as tools for inclusion. The Darfur Material Culture Survey was a great illustration of how surveys can connect people across different cultural and ethnic backgrounds. It was conducted by the Institute of African and Asian Studies in collaboration with Nyala University and teams of researchers from all across Darfur. It was conducted in partnership with the Western Sudan Community Museums project and the National Corporation for Antiquities and Museums (NCAM). The researchers documented everyday objects like agricultural tools, cooking implements, and traditional footwear—items that, while designed in different ways depending on the region, served similar functions in people’s daily lives.
One notable object was the markoob a type of traditional leather shoe worn throughout Sudan. Though the leather and designs vary from one area to another, the markoob serves the same purpose: providing comfort and protection. This simple object speaks to the shared cultural practices that cut across ethnic lines. Similarly, the pottery used for cooking and storing food in Sudan’s diverse communities has common features, reflecting similar ways of adapting to each region's environment.
By highlighting these shared practices, this material culture survey did more than document cultural artefacts by helping to create a sense of unity. People from different backgrounds saw their own traditions reflected in the items of others, sparking a sense of connection. The exhibition showcasing the survey’s outcome which was organised by the Western Sudan Community Museums at the Darfur Museum in Nyala allowed visitors to engage with these objects, and by doing so, they were reminded of the common values and experiences they share. This kind of cultural exchange helps bridge divides, turning differences into opportunities for mutual understanding.
Surveys also play an important role in identifying sources of differences, which is crucial for peacebuilding efforts. These insights allow policymakers and community leaders to address the root causes of conflict and work towards solutions that benefit everyone. In this way, surveys act as a kind of diagnostic tool for societies in need of common ground to prompt unity.
Another significant benefit of surveys is that they give a voice to those who are often marginalized or excluded from the conversation. In many conflict-prone regions, some groups – whether based on ethnicity, gender, or age – feel left out of key decision-making processes. Surveys provide an opportunity for these groups to share their experiences and perspectives. When people who feel unheard are included in the dialogue, it not only empowers them but also ensures that peacebuilding efforts are more inclusive and representative of the entire community.
Trust and transparency are also key elements of any successful peace process, and surveys help build both. In post-conflict societies, trust between different groups can be fragile. By assessing how people view institutions, such as the government or local leaders, surveys provide valuable insights into the state of social trust. Understanding what factors strengthen or weaken trust in a community allows peacebuilders to design interventions that address these issues, whether through community engagement, or rebuilding social institutions.
In Sudan, surveys like the one conducted by Nyala University with research teams from all over Darfur help foster trust by focusing on the things that unite rather than divide. By highlighting shared cultural practices, these surveys create a platform for dialogue that encourages people to see one another as neighbours. This approach helps shift the focus from differences to common goals, laying the groundwork for long-term peace and stability.
Surveys also offer a way to track progress in peacebuilding efforts. In societies recovering from conflict, it is important to measure whether inclusion efforts are making a real impact. By gathering data on people’s attitudes towards their communities, traditions, and culture, surveys provide critical feedback for governments, NGOs, development initiatives, heritage preservation initiatives and different organizations. This ongoing assessment ensures that inclusion and peacebuilding strategies are evolving to meet the needs of the population and remain effective over time.
All in all, surveys are more than just tools for collecting data, they are instruments for promoting peaceful coexistence. By highlighting shared practices, ways of life, uncovering similarities, and giving marginalized voices a platform, surveys help bridge divides and foster understanding. The example of the Darfur Material Culture Survey in Sudan shows how surveys can bring communities together, using common cultural practices as a foundation for unity. Ultimately, surveys provide a way for societies to reflect on what they have in common, helping to build understanding and cooperation needed to move toward lasting peace and harmony.
Cover picture: Markob seller, The cities of Nyala and El Fashir are famous for making traditional shoes called markob, which are men's shoes made of animal skins.© Issam Ahmed Abdelhafiez, South Darfur
We never really needed much to play with; socks stuffed into one another to form a ball; a water hose was a perfect skipping rope; a couple of bricks or pair of shoes marked goalposts; and scraps of fabric found around the home were enough to craft dolls like "banat um luab." Playing wasn’t just for children, either. Games like "Dafory," the name of street football in Sudan, brought everyone together, often culminating in neighbourhood tournaments.
These types of games gave us all the joy we needed in our childhood a long time before video games and children’s channels even existed. Streets and open spaces echoed with the sounds of children’s laughter, cheers, and sometimes quarrels and disputes over game rules.
Recently, these traditional games have regained popularity in Khartoum and other cities. The ongoing war accompanied by prolonged power cuts and frequent internet outages have forced families to flee their homes and children are resorting to these games as a form of safe haven. Many now find themselves in ancestral homes, shelters, schools, or refugee camps across Sudan and beyond. In these new settings, they play the same games their parents and grandparents once played, turning these activities into a source of comfort, a way to build friendships, and a means to foster resilience amidst the chaos of war.
Since the war began, Al-Sururab, a rural neighbourhood in northern Omdurman, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families. At Al-Sururab’s "takiyya," a community kitchen that also provides healthcare services for both displaced families and local residents, the photographer Mazin Alrasheed shared his experience of working with children at the centre and the games they play.
Mazin, who lives in Al-Sururab and is one of the core supporters of the community kitchen, observed that local children from the neighbourhood preferred playing street football, often spending the entire day outside. Meanwhile, displaced children leaned towards activities like building mud structures, crafting cardboard homes, drawing, and playing marbles, games that Mazin himself, and previous generations before that, had played albeit with some modern adaptations. For instance, in the game "Kambalat," the triangular stack of empty tomato puree tins, which children aimed to knock down, were replaced with plastic water bottles.
To foster creativity and a sense of camaraderie, Mazin organized joint activities for local and displaced children. He started with a competition to build a car out of pieces of discarded plastic which involved 18 children, followed by a cardboard house contest and mud sculpture events. These activities helped the children form friendships and develop skills, much to the delight of their parents, particularly the mothers who appreciated the constructive use of their children’s time. Some mothers even joined in with the games, further strengthening family bonds.
Inspired by the community’s enthusiasm, Mazin revived the old Sururab tradition of an annual village competition. This event, which had stopped years ago, involved multi-generational teams led by grandparents, competing in various games. Mazin modernized the event by including mothers, expanding participation beyond the traditional male constituents.
In yet another activity, Aunt Salwa, a 70-year-old resident, began crafting "banat um luab" dolls using leftover fabrics and old garments. She carefully twists and ties the fabric to create the dolls’ bodies, heads, arms, and legs, then selects cloth for their dresses and wraps. She adds beads or draws eyes on the faces and finishes the dolls off with black fabric for hair. Initially, Aunt Salwa made these dolls for girls in neighbouring homes but soon girls from both displaced and local families started coming to her for their own handmade dolls.
The Sururab experience highlights the importance of play for children during war and times of hardship. Children’s games give young people the chance to immerse themselves in play and enjoy their childhood and to build resilience through playing with others.
We never really needed much to play with; socks stuffed into one another to form a ball; a water hose was a perfect skipping rope; a couple of bricks or pair of shoes marked goalposts; and scraps of fabric found around the home were enough to craft dolls like "banat um luab." Playing wasn’t just for children, either. Games like "Dafory," the name of street football in Sudan, brought everyone together, often culminating in neighbourhood tournaments.
These types of games gave us all the joy we needed in our childhood a long time before video games and children’s channels even existed. Streets and open spaces echoed with the sounds of children’s laughter, cheers, and sometimes quarrels and disputes over game rules.
Recently, these traditional games have regained popularity in Khartoum and other cities. The ongoing war accompanied by prolonged power cuts and frequent internet outages have forced families to flee their homes and children are resorting to these games as a form of safe haven. Many now find themselves in ancestral homes, shelters, schools, or refugee camps across Sudan and beyond. In these new settings, they play the same games their parents and grandparents once played, turning these activities into a source of comfort, a way to build friendships, and a means to foster resilience amidst the chaos of war.
Since the war began, Al-Sururab, a rural neighbourhood in northern Omdurman, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families. At Al-Sururab’s "takiyya," a community kitchen that also provides healthcare services for both displaced families and local residents, the photographer Mazin Alrasheed shared his experience of working with children at the centre and the games they play.
Mazin, who lives in Al-Sururab and is one of the core supporters of the community kitchen, observed that local children from the neighbourhood preferred playing street football, often spending the entire day outside. Meanwhile, displaced children leaned towards activities like building mud structures, crafting cardboard homes, drawing, and playing marbles, games that Mazin himself, and previous generations before that, had played albeit with some modern adaptations. For instance, in the game "Kambalat," the triangular stack of empty tomato puree tins, which children aimed to knock down, were replaced with plastic water bottles.
To foster creativity and a sense of camaraderie, Mazin organized joint activities for local and displaced children. He started with a competition to build a car out of pieces of discarded plastic which involved 18 children, followed by a cardboard house contest and mud sculpture events. These activities helped the children form friendships and develop skills, much to the delight of their parents, particularly the mothers who appreciated the constructive use of their children’s time. Some mothers even joined in with the games, further strengthening family bonds.
Inspired by the community’s enthusiasm, Mazin revived the old Sururab tradition of an annual village competition. This event, which had stopped years ago, involved multi-generational teams led by grandparents, competing in various games. Mazin modernized the event by including mothers, expanding participation beyond the traditional male constituents.
In yet another activity, Aunt Salwa, a 70-year-old resident, began crafting "banat um luab" dolls using leftover fabrics and old garments. She carefully twists and ties the fabric to create the dolls’ bodies, heads, arms, and legs, then selects cloth for their dresses and wraps. She adds beads or draws eyes on the faces and finishes the dolls off with black fabric for hair. Initially, Aunt Salwa made these dolls for girls in neighbouring homes but soon girls from both displaced and local families started coming to her for their own handmade dolls.
The Sururab experience highlights the importance of play for children during war and times of hardship. Children’s games give young people the chance to immerse themselves in play and enjoy their childhood and to build resilience through playing with others.
We never really needed much to play with; socks stuffed into one another to form a ball; a water hose was a perfect skipping rope; a couple of bricks or pair of shoes marked goalposts; and scraps of fabric found around the home were enough to craft dolls like "banat um luab." Playing wasn’t just for children, either. Games like "Dafory," the name of street football in Sudan, brought everyone together, often culminating in neighbourhood tournaments.
These types of games gave us all the joy we needed in our childhood a long time before video games and children’s channels even existed. Streets and open spaces echoed with the sounds of children’s laughter, cheers, and sometimes quarrels and disputes over game rules.
Recently, these traditional games have regained popularity in Khartoum and other cities. The ongoing war accompanied by prolonged power cuts and frequent internet outages have forced families to flee their homes and children are resorting to these games as a form of safe haven. Many now find themselves in ancestral homes, shelters, schools, or refugee camps across Sudan and beyond. In these new settings, they play the same games their parents and grandparents once played, turning these activities into a source of comfort, a way to build friendships, and a means to foster resilience amidst the chaos of war.
Since the war began, Al-Sururab, a rural neighbourhood in northern Omdurman, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families. At Al-Sururab’s "takiyya," a community kitchen that also provides healthcare services for both displaced families and local residents, the photographer Mazin Alrasheed shared his experience of working with children at the centre and the games they play.
Mazin, who lives in Al-Sururab and is one of the core supporters of the community kitchen, observed that local children from the neighbourhood preferred playing street football, often spending the entire day outside. Meanwhile, displaced children leaned towards activities like building mud structures, crafting cardboard homes, drawing, and playing marbles, games that Mazin himself, and previous generations before that, had played albeit with some modern adaptations. For instance, in the game "Kambalat," the triangular stack of empty tomato puree tins, which children aimed to knock down, were replaced with plastic water bottles.
To foster creativity and a sense of camaraderie, Mazin organized joint activities for local and displaced children. He started with a competition to build a car out of pieces of discarded plastic which involved 18 children, followed by a cardboard house contest and mud sculpture events. These activities helped the children form friendships and develop skills, much to the delight of their parents, particularly the mothers who appreciated the constructive use of their children’s time. Some mothers even joined in with the games, further strengthening family bonds.
Inspired by the community’s enthusiasm, Mazin revived the old Sururab tradition of an annual village competition. This event, which had stopped years ago, involved multi-generational teams led by grandparents, competing in various games. Mazin modernized the event by including mothers, expanding participation beyond the traditional male constituents.
In yet another activity, Aunt Salwa, a 70-year-old resident, began crafting "banat um luab" dolls using leftover fabrics and old garments. She carefully twists and ties the fabric to create the dolls’ bodies, heads, arms, and legs, then selects cloth for their dresses and wraps. She adds beads or draws eyes on the faces and finishes the dolls off with black fabric for hair. Initially, Aunt Salwa made these dolls for girls in neighbouring homes but soon girls from both displaced and local families started coming to her for their own handmade dolls.
The Sururab experience highlights the importance of play for children during war and times of hardship. Children’s games give young people the chance to immerse themselves in play and enjoy their childhood and to build resilience through playing with others.
The Sudanese woman’s tob is by far the most essential garment worn by local women, and as it is the most visible of them it is the subject of most comment and interest. Despite its unchanging simplicity, female ingenuity has produced many variations over the last half century. The word tob, or thawb, in Arabic is the generic term for clothing but, in the case of Sudanese women, it means an outer, seamless garment, 4 to 4.5 metres in length by 2 metres in width, of bright or pastel colour, initially of cotton material.
For every woman, the tob is a statement of social status: it distinguishes the married woman from the unmarried, different qualities of tob indicate wealth and sophistication, and finally, amongst the diaspora of Sudanese, the Sudanese woman wears her tob with pride as a visible sign of national identity. It is also the most enduring and lasting item of Sudanese women’s national costume. The rahat has gone and the gurgab too, but the tob has survived because of its overall usefulness, its beauty and its adaptability. For a rural woman, her tob can be her overcoat, her mosquito net, the pouch for gathering cotton or other crops, her nightdress, or the curtain behind which she can breast-feed her baby in public places.
(Excerpt taken from the chapter ‘The Sudanese Tob’ the book ‘Regional Folk Costumes of the Sudan’ by Griselda El Tayib)
Cover picture © Ahmed Elfatih, Features of a nomadic girl (Badouin), Central Darfur, 08/13/2022
The Sudanese woman’s tob is by far the most essential garment worn by local women, and as it is the most visible of them it is the subject of most comment and interest. Despite its unchanging simplicity, female ingenuity has produced many variations over the last half century. The word tob, or thawb, in Arabic is the generic term for clothing but, in the case of Sudanese women, it means an outer, seamless garment, 4 to 4.5 metres in length by 2 metres in width, of bright or pastel colour, initially of cotton material.
For every woman, the tob is a statement of social status: it distinguishes the married woman from the unmarried, different qualities of tob indicate wealth and sophistication, and finally, amongst the diaspora of Sudanese, the Sudanese woman wears her tob with pride as a visible sign of national identity. It is also the most enduring and lasting item of Sudanese women’s national costume. The rahat has gone and the gurgab too, but the tob has survived because of its overall usefulness, its beauty and its adaptability. For a rural woman, her tob can be her overcoat, her mosquito net, the pouch for gathering cotton or other crops, her nightdress, or the curtain behind which she can breast-feed her baby in public places.
(Excerpt taken from the chapter ‘The Sudanese Tob’ the book ‘Regional Folk Costumes of the Sudan’ by Griselda El Tayib)
Cover picture © Ahmed Elfatih, Features of a nomadic girl (Badouin), Central Darfur, 08/13/2022
The Sudanese woman’s tob is by far the most essential garment worn by local women, and as it is the most visible of them it is the subject of most comment and interest. Despite its unchanging simplicity, female ingenuity has produced many variations over the last half century. The word tob, or thawb, in Arabic is the generic term for clothing but, in the case of Sudanese women, it means an outer, seamless garment, 4 to 4.5 metres in length by 2 metres in width, of bright or pastel colour, initially of cotton material.
For every woman, the tob is a statement of social status: it distinguishes the married woman from the unmarried, different qualities of tob indicate wealth and sophistication, and finally, amongst the diaspora of Sudanese, the Sudanese woman wears her tob with pride as a visible sign of national identity. It is also the most enduring and lasting item of Sudanese women’s national costume. The rahat has gone and the gurgab too, but the tob has survived because of its overall usefulness, its beauty and its adaptability. For a rural woman, her tob can be her overcoat, her mosquito net, the pouch for gathering cotton or other crops, her nightdress, or the curtain behind which she can breast-feed her baby in public places.
(Excerpt taken from the chapter ‘The Sudanese Tob’ the book ‘Regional Folk Costumes of the Sudan’ by Griselda El Tayib)
Cover picture © Ahmed Elfatih, Features of a nomadic girl (Badouin), Central Darfur, 08/13/2022
Tobacco pipe with a pottery bowel with wooden stem and copper mouthpiece. In the 1930s,
when this pipe was made, tobacco was one of the main non-food crops in the Nuba
mountains. It was principally smoked by elder men and women as a leisure activity. In
addition to goats, suitors gifted tobacco to the relatives of the bride and tobacco was often
distributed to initiated men at festivals and other important events.
Af1939,30.43
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Tobacco pipe with a pottery bowel with wooden stem and copper mouthpiece. In the 1930s,
when this pipe was made, tobacco was one of the main non-food crops in the Nuba
mountains. It was principally smoked by elder men and women as a leisure activity. In
addition to goats, suitors gifted tobacco to the relatives of the bride and tobacco was often
distributed to initiated men at festivals and other important events.
Af1939,30.43
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Tobacco pipe with a pottery bowel with wooden stem and copper mouthpiece. In the 1930s,
when this pipe was made, tobacco was one of the main non-food crops in the Nuba
mountains. It was principally smoked by elder men and women as a leisure activity. In
addition to goats, suitors gifted tobacco to the relatives of the bride and tobacco was often
distributed to initiated men at festivals and other important events.
Af1939,30.43
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Traditional Sudanese games come in many forms, ranging from chasing and speed-based games such as tag sak-sak, hide and seek korkat or dasdas, daisy in the dell alfat alfat. These games often involve a ‘finish line’ or a specific location referred to as al-miys, which serves as the safe zone players must reach to win. The term al-tish is used for the player who lags behind or performs the weakest, often becoming ‘it’ in the next round. Other games involving precision and strategy include marbles billi and kambalat similar to piggy in the middle. Some games have different names depending on the region they come from but they often share similar rules. For instance, sakkaj bakkaj, a game played across Sudan is also known as tik trak, kobri, adi, sola, and al-daghal. Needless to say whatever the name, children all over Sudan always have a great time playing these games.
● Shilail: A traditional game where an object like, a bone or stone is hidden to be found.
● Al-Tarha: A game that involves grabbing and running away with a length of cloth or object.
● Joz, Loz, Koz, Moz: A paper game played by 4 or more.
Cover picture © Amani Basheer, Obaid, Recording Intangible Cultural Heritage workshop.
Traditional Sudanese games come in many forms, ranging from chasing and speed-based games such as tag sak-sak, hide and seek korkat or dasdas, daisy in the dell alfat alfat. These games often involve a ‘finish line’ or a specific location referred to as al-miys, which serves as the safe zone players must reach to win. The term al-tish is used for the player who lags behind or performs the weakest, often becoming ‘it’ in the next round. Other games involving precision and strategy include marbles billi and kambalat similar to piggy in the middle. Some games have different names depending on the region they come from but they often share similar rules. For instance, sakkaj bakkaj, a game played across Sudan is also known as tik trak, kobri, adi, sola, and al-daghal. Needless to say whatever the name, children all over Sudan always have a great time playing these games.
● Shilail: A traditional game where an object like, a bone or stone is hidden to be found.
● Al-Tarha: A game that involves grabbing and running away with a length of cloth or object.
● Joz, Loz, Koz, Moz: A paper game played by 4 or more.
Cover picture © Amani Basheer, Obaid, Recording Intangible Cultural Heritage workshop.
Traditional Sudanese games come in many forms, ranging from chasing and speed-based games such as tag sak-sak, hide and seek korkat or dasdas, daisy in the dell alfat alfat. These games often involve a ‘finish line’ or a specific location referred to as al-miys, which serves as the safe zone players must reach to win. The term al-tish is used for the player who lags behind or performs the weakest, often becoming ‘it’ in the next round. Other games involving precision and strategy include marbles billi and kambalat similar to piggy in the middle. Some games have different names depending on the region they come from but they often share similar rules. For instance, sakkaj bakkaj, a game played across Sudan is also known as tik trak, kobri, adi, sola, and al-daghal. Needless to say whatever the name, children all over Sudan always have a great time playing these games.
● Shilail: A traditional game where an object like, a bone or stone is hidden to be found.
● Al-Tarha: A game that involves grabbing and running away with a length of cloth or object.
● Joz, Loz, Koz, Moz: A paper game played by 4 or more.
Cover picture © Amani Basheer, Obaid, Recording Intangible Cultural Heritage workshop.
Ceramic coffee pot, made to share sweet, spiced coffee to be enjoyed with friends and
family members.
Af1948,06.32
Found/Acquired: Omdurman
Acquisition date: 1948
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Ceramic coffee pot, made to share sweet, spiced coffee to be enjoyed with friends and
family members.
Af1948,06.32
Found/Acquired: Omdurman
Acquisition date: 1948
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Ceramic coffee pot, made to share sweet, spiced coffee to be enjoyed with friends and
family members.
Af1948,06.32
Found/Acquired: Omdurman
Acquisition date: 1948
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Two cowrie shells, broken on top.
They are heavily used in decorations and as hair and clothes ornaments. They are also used in folk divination, as referenced in a popular song by Salah ibn Albadia, especially fortune telling in women settings.
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Findspot: Amara West (Nubia)
Acquisition date: 2016
Two cowrie shells, broken on top.
They are heavily used in decorations and as hair and clothes ornaments. They are also used in folk divination, as referenced in a popular song by Salah ibn Albadia, especially fortune telling in women settings.
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Findspot: Amara West (Nubia)
Acquisition date: 2016
Two cowrie shells, broken on top.
They are heavily used in decorations and as hair and clothes ornaments. They are also used in folk divination, as referenced in a popular song by Salah ibn Albadia, especially fortune telling in women settings.
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Findspot: Amara West (Nubia)
Acquisition date: 2016
According to historical sources, Arabs entered Sudan before the arrival of Islam. The largest wave of Arab migration occurred following the Bugt Agreement of 652 AD between Muslim Arabs and the Nubians, towards whom the migrants were headed via the Nile from Egypt. Those who came to Sudan before Islam were renowned for their poetry which, being pre-Islamic is difficult to understand and has, here, been converted to prose:
Others have their civilisations but we are Bedouins. They have donkeys, while we have swords and good horses. If we raid those near us and find nothing to plunder, we raid those farther away. We even attack the firstborn of tribes who are our brothers if we find nothing to loot.
This poetic practice was common among Arab tribes in Sudan as wars and raids were prevalent for many years. The Sudanese have always been in awe of their Sufi holy men and have built shrines on their burial grounds. People believed that anyone who attacked the communities to which the holy men belonged would suffer illness, affliction, or death. Sudanese were therefore keen to demonstrate that their settlements were protected by the blessings of such men and sometimes even built shrines that did not contain a Sufi sheikh, to protect themselves against any possible attack.
Researcher Samir Mohamed Obaid says that in Sudan's history, before the Sultanate of Sennar, there was a period called the Qayman in which tribes would raid and steal each other’s camel herds. These raids were not considered theft but rather as an act of heroism. This was one of the main reasons why would claim noble lineage in relation to the Prophet Muhammad in order to evade these raids. The presence of a shrine became evidence of this lineage.
In this study, Anglo-Egyptian colonial powers created a Native Administration by appointing senior figures from various Arab tribes around Sudan. The Nazir, tribal chief, would arbitrate any disputes that arose among members of the tribe, whether with other members of the same tribe, or with those from other tribes. This was the norm in western Sudan, where Arab tribes were located, in central Sudan with the Jaliyin Arabs, and in the northern parts of central Sudan where the Rubatab, Manasir, and Shaigiya tribes had a Mak instead of a Nazir. In northernmost Sudan, the mayor, or Umdah, was in charge, while in eastern Sudan, the Beja had a Nazir. These leaders were responsible for waging and conducting wars.
Some of the wars in the history of Sudan have been documented, while others have not. There have been civil wars and wars with other countries, often arising from divisions within tribes. However, in many instances the warring sides sought peaceful solutions resulting in reconciliation between the belligerents.
In this research, we examine forms of war and conflict:
We will study the following relevant groups:
These were generally fostered by religious leaders. The Batahin tribes often fought against the Shukriyya, notably in conflicts such as the Battle of Mandara (171 AD), which took place in the Faw region. Subsequent battles included Ab-Haba, Al-Hajar, and Unwaan. Among the elders of the Batahin, there were those who were keen on maintaining peaceful relations between the Batahin and the Shukriyya. One such figure was Sheikh Abd-al-Bagi, a religious elder from the Batahin. He mediated peace between them in 1807 AD through treaties made between himself and the sons of Ahmad Pasha Abu Sin. Ahmad Pasha Abu Sin was the chief of the Butana region and governor of Khartoum and Sennar at the time. It is noticeable that this treaty was agreed very later on.
Sheikh Birayr of the Batahin tribe had launched a raid on Karama, in the northernmost part of the Butana region. The Kawahla had prepared for their war against Sheikh Birayr a warrior named Muhammad al-Milejabi, who was tasked with recruiting Beja warriors in order to form an alliance in order to eradicate Birayr’s army and to arrest and kill the Sheikh. Al-Milejabi remained with the Amarar branch of the Beja in the Balk region for two years during which he selected strong fighters. These later joined forces, forming a united army to fight Sheikh Birayr whom they later captured and killed. Muhammad al-Milejabi cut off Birayrs hands and presented them to a woman named Shagnaba from a tribe who had fought alongside the Kawahla. The researcher, Al-Tayib Muhammad al-Tayib notes that numerous tribes coexisted with the Shukryyia in the Butana region, including the Batahin, Kawahla, and Rikabiyya and that several wars broke out between these tribes during the early part of the 16th century AD. This included the alliance between the Funj and Rikabiyya who clashed with the Shukriyya, led by their warrior Abu Ali. There were 4,000 of the allies compared to a small number of Shukriyya. However, the latter were able to kill the leaders of the alliance, Idris Wad al-Zaki and Karanka Abu Sin Duf, at the beginning of the battle, thereby securing victory for the Shukriyya.
The Beja lived alongside the Shukriyya in the Butana region, spread along the eastern banks of the Atbara River. In the battle of Rerah in 1744 AD, The Beja formed an alliance with the Shukriyya to fight the Batahin, and prepared to attack. As a result, the leader of the Batahin army, Al-Tikayt, retreated with his army to a distant land, far away from the Shukriyya, known as Abu Dilayg, east of present-day Khartoum.
Under the title ‘Relationships between Tribes,’ researchers Abd-al-Qadr Awad-al-Karim Hassan and Omar Abd-al-Rahim Kabosh, in their book ‘A Pause with the Poets of Butana’ state that the relationships between the tribes of the Butana plain are strong and well-established, governed by tribal custom, and that conflicts or hostilities are rare and that when such disputes arise, tribal leaders usually intervene to reconcile and restore harmony.
The tribes of the Butana region are nomadic by nature and are mostly herders of camels, sheep and goats. Conflict therefore often arises over competition for resources such as pastures, valleys, and sources of water and expanding one’s territory to secure more pasture lands has always been a cause of conflict. In addition, these wars often stemmed from a sense of tribal pride and perceived distinctions. In ancient times, disputes were resolved through tribal affiliation, which persisted until the establishment of the New Halfa agricultural project which transformed them from nomadic tribes to settled agricultural communities.
Wars and counter-wars means that one tribe fights another tribe or entity, and this conflict is followed by a counter-war, until one party stops fighting and does not return to it. We previously mentioned that the Beja had settled along the course of the Atbara River, east of the Butana region. This land was not owned by any entity however, in 1791, the Shukriyya leader, Awad-al-Karim Abu-Sin, claimed the Butana region as his own and gave himself the right to determine who could settle there and who could be displaced. The Sultan of the Funj, Badi Wad Dikaym reinforced Abu-Sin’s right.
The Beja, who were warriors, clashed with the Shukriyya over their attempt to displace them from the banks of the Atbara River. A branch of the Shukriyya known as the Turgab, the sons of Hamad al-Atarag, emerged as some of the fiercest fighters and military leaders in the Butana region to the extent that it is said that most of them perished in wars, with only two families remaining today.
The Beja fighters began the war but where defeated in their earlier battles with the Shukriyya. However, when they entered into war again, the Turgab had given leadership of their troops to a strong war veteran called Wad-al-Bashir who was described by one of their poets as follows:
Wad-al-Bashir rose up and crossed the river swimming
Heading towards their ranks, pointing like the fronds of a dom palm
The Beja who could every day muster an army
Wad-al-Bashir forced them to submit and be occupied only with their prayers and fasting
The meaning here is that Wad-al-Bashir set out towards the Beja east of the river that was in full spate and did his worst. The Beja had, until then, been sending an army to fight the Shukriyya every day however, Wad-al-Bashir’s crushing victory forced Beja to live a life of seclusion, praying and fasting to Allah never to wage war again.
An example of war and counter-war was between the Bawadra and the Qinan, both tribes from the Butana region. The researcher Yasir Abdallah Abd-al-Rahim al-Khalifa referred to the conflict between these two tribes as the ‘War of the Whips.’ He says that what sparked this conflict was an incident when a member of the Qinan cut off the tail of an ox belonging to one of the Bawadra women. The woman mourned the loss of her ox’s tail and swore not to eat with her right hand until she saw what the Bawadra warriors would do about what the Qinan youth had done to her ox. This was a longstanding Arab custom, urging warriors to seek revenge and to put right the wrong done to them.
When the Bawadra warriors mobilized to confront the Qinan, the warrior Wad Bilelah swore that the Bawadra should only use whips, rather than swords, to discipline the Qinan. And so, they approached the Qinan whips in hand, thus mocking and ridiculing the Qinan who were known for their bravery and strength. The following war unfolded in two stages namely The Battle of the Whips and the Battle of Swords and Heroes.
During the first stage, the Bawadra used whips, providing a golden opportunity for the Qinan, who had prepared themselves to face the Bawadra warriors with their swords. When the time for battle came, the Qinan warriors were surprised the Bawadra were armed only with whips. Within hours, the Qinan warriors advanced killing many of the Bawadra warriors and were on the brink of victory had the remaining Bawadra not used their opponents’ swords against them. That day the Bawadra learned the lesson and that as a result of their overconfidence and contempt of others, they had nearly paralysed their own army. At this stage of the war, the Bawadra sustained heavy losses with many of their warriors being killed as a result of this irresponsible action.
In the second stage of this war, the Bawadra from the western Blue Nile, led by the warrior Ain Bur, arrived with other branches of the Bawadra tribe such as the Bayada, Mashala, and Dabasin, among others. The warrior Ain Bur vowed to completely annihilate the Qinan tribe, and he did so, wiping them out entirely, sparing only women and children. After this, battles occurred at locations such as Al-Sada and Al-Rikabiyyah and Malwiya. Thus, the Qinan tribe was dispersed across eastern Sudan and Eritrea, leaving only a small number who now inhabit the Butana Beja regions.
Yet despite history of the Butana region stating that it was customary for tribes in this region to settle disputes or raids through self-regulation and peace agreements, we observe that this custom did not exist during earlier wars particularly from the 16th to the 18th century. The latter period, particularly under Ahmad Bey Abu Sin, was marked by relentless raids and warfare in the Butana region, with no room for negotiation or peace, only violence and control.
In the context of wars involving the Ajawid (elders), we note Gald al-Beja a custom prevalent in the lands of the Beja. These peoples are made up of four main groups; most notably the Beja, with its numerous subsections; the Beni Amir; the Halanga; and the Basharyin. The term Beja refers to all these tribes and their subsections. Gald al-Beja describes the group of Ajawid elders who sit with both sides to resolve any dispute that may erupt in their lands even if it is murder. The term Gald means the meeting to enforce a binding resolution to a dispute, that may not be rejected by any party present. In his dictionary of the Sudanese colloquial dialect, Dr Awn Alsharif Qasim defines Ajawid as those who mediate between disputing parties to resolve a conflict peacefully. This is an excellent definition.
Two notable Beja wars included the conflict between the Ashraaf and the Kimaylab and the conflict between the Ashraaf and the Nabatab. Despite the many wars among the Beja tribes and their subgroups, Qasim states that he would prefer not to dwell on these so as not to revive old enmity. Perhaps he believed that remembering these wars would stir up old animosities. However, it is certain that all manner of Beja disputes was governed by the Gald practice.
Meanwhile, the Bawadra entered into two major wars after their long conflict with the Qinan including the War of Al-Hajiz, a location between Khashm al-Girba and Kasala and the war of Al-Malwiya, which took place in the same location.
According to Qasim, a small railway station on a rail line connecting to Port Sudan saw bloodshed spilled as if it were the ‘damira’ meaning the Nile flooding. This conflict was mediated by the Rikabiyya, a group of holy men spread-out across Sudan.
Political wars are often initiated by sultans and rulers. Their objectives is to bring the warring group into submission and peace, as we will see. The war we begin with is the war between the Ham Arab of the Humur and the Maaliya. This began when the Maaliya Arabs intercepted a caravan travelling from Egypt to Darfur, killing the traders who were carrying textiles and sugar belonging to the sultan. Sultan Hussein, who ruled Dar al-Nur between 1829 and 1874, was enraged and summoned Sheikh Maki Walad Munim, leader of the Humur Arabs, saying ‘I give you permission to spill the blood and seize the wealth of the Maaliya.’ Sheikh Maki gathered his men and allies and launched a bloody attack that resulted in a victory for the Humur Arabs and the sultan. This was the Battle of Al-Qurtas, named after the small conical paper containers used to carry the sugar.
In 1821, Ismail Pasha, the son of Egypt's Khedive Muhammad Ali Pasha, invaded Sudan with his troops advancing until they reached the Funj Sultanate. The Funj ruler, Muhammad Wad Adlan, surrendered and submitted to Ismail Pasha, who then took control of Sudan. Upon returning to Egypt in 1822, Ismail Pasha arrived in the lands of the Jaliyyin, where the Mak Nimir had made plans to kill him. At the centre of a large gathering, Ismail Pasha sat with his entourage, demanding cattle and wealth to emphasise the Mak’s submission. Mak Nimir had surrounded the council with firewood and positioned his warriors to attack. When the fire was ignited, his warriors attacked, killing Ismail Pasha and his retinue by burning them alive. Mak Nimir then fled to Ethiopia with his family. This led to the devastating defeat of the Jaliyyin at the hands of the Diftirdar representatives of the Egyptian authorities.
This conflict was later reignited by Khalifa Abdullah al-Tayshi after the death of Muhammad Ahmad Al-Mahdi in 1885. Al-Tayshi, who was the Mahdi’s successor, faced resistance from the Mahdi’s family, who claimed they were more entitled to the leadership and were Ashraaf, or descendants of the Prophet Muhammad’s lineage. This led to the struggle known as the Khalifa against Al-Ashraaf following the Mahdi’s death and which was essentially a power struggle—who was more rightful to lead the Mahdist state: the Sharifs due to their familial ties to Al-Mahdi, or the Khalifa, who held the second-highest position in the state during the Mahdi’s lifetime.
The Khalifa Abdullah mobilised the capital of the Mahdist state Omdurman and ordered his kin, the Taysha, and other worriers from tribes in Darfur, to arrest the rebellious Ashraaf. The Khalifa imprisoned all them, thus consolidating his rule over the Mahdist state until the Battle of Karari following the invasion of Sudan in 1898 by the colonial Anglo-Egyptian forces. The Khalifa fled with his followers and was later killed in Um Dibaykarat.
The first recorded war to end in reconciliation was the one sparked by Abdullah Ibn Abi Sarh against the Nubians in Dongola in northern Sudan in 652 AD. This war culminated in the signing of the "Baqt Agreement," which included three key clauses:
· Name of the Agreement: Baqt
· Arabs may pass through the land of Nubia (Sudan) but may not settle there and Nubians may pass through the land of the Arabs (Egypt, Arabian Peninsula) but may not settle there.
· Mosque Maintenance: The mosque built by Ibn Abi Sarh in Dongola is to be illuminated and maintained by the Nubians.
Historians have debated the authenticity of the Baqt Agreement, with some interpretations contradicting verified historical facts. For example, in Dr Awn Alsharif’s dictionary the term Baqt is recorded as Bagit meaning summit in the Nubian language of Dongola.
However, Arabs remained in Sudan in contravention of the agreement’s clauses, and Nubians migrated and settled in Arab lands. As for the mosque, archaeologists have concluded that it was a more modern structure containing the tomb of a sheikh whom they disinterred. These findings cast doubt on the historical existence of the Baqt Agreement, suggesting instead that mutual contributions from both sides resulted in reconciliation.
In western Sudan, wars have always broken out between the Arab tribes and between Arab tribes and those tribespeople of non-Arab origin. There have long been conflicts between the Salamat tribe (an Arab tribe) and other Arab tribes such as the Taysha, and between the Rizeigat against the Awlad Hin and the Kabbash against the Kawahla, who migrated to Kordofan. There have also been conflicts between the Hawazma tribe against the Nuba of the Nuba Mountains, and between Arab tribes and the Zaghawa people in northern Darfur—who are non-Arab. Similarly, there have been wars between the same tribes and the Masalit in northern Darfur. However, the important point is that the native administration in both Darfur and Kordofan, have a longstanding tradition of resolving wars peacefully through the intervention of senior native administrators to resolve differences between the warring sides.
The Madarna Mahas, who cohabited the land of the Butana with the Shukriyya fought wars against the Arab Rufaiyya tribe that lives along the bank of the Blue Nile, not far from the Madarna, east of the Rufaiyya. This dispute was over the borders between the warring groups. The Rufaiyya and Shukriyya, who inhabited the Blue Nile region to the southeast, eventually mediated a peace agreement between the warring parties. The peace settlement stipulated that they would share the borders on condition they lived together peacefully.
In the early period of their settlement in the land of the Butana under the Shukriya tribe, there was a war between the Madarna and the Shukriyya that never fully escalated. Both the Shukriyya and Madarna warriors mobilized for battle, but peace was quickly achieved through the mediation of a group of Shukriyya wise men, in particular their leader, Sheikh Abd-al-Hadi. The Madarna poet, Qasim Wad Attar, chronicled this war, saying:
With the Shukriyya, we have contracts and oaths,
Except for those driven by self-interest – they are ancestors to none.
Riders of hardship in the darkest night,
Their bravest among the crowd, never turns away from the poor.
After the Nubians were forcibly displaced from northern Sudan to the Butana region between 1963–1964, their villages consisted of plots of agricultural land measuring 15 acres designated specifically for crops like peanuts and cotton, which they were unaccustomed to. To overcome this challenge, they relied on the agricultural expertise of migrant workers who moved to the New Halfa Agricultural Project. These migrant workers came from West Africa and Darfur but also included Nubians. Conflicts arose as follows:
A Nubian killed a West African migrant over a farming dispute, leading to threats of war. However, the Nubians sought a peaceful resolution, and through mediation, they agreed to pay compensation (blood money) of 5 pounds per household to all 26 villages, amounting to 250 pounds per village. The affected villages in New Halfa boycotted farming, claiming they had worked on these plots for 35 years and deserved ownership. Disputes arose over compensation demands, particularly from Zaghawa laborers from Chad and Darfur, who sought a total of 32,500 pounds. The Nubians paid this amount in 1991 without involving the police or courts and the peace has thus been kept until this day.
In 2010, another conflict occurred involving migrant workers from Libya over the same farm plots. The residents of Village 10 resisted their claims which escalated the situation and resulted in the killing of farm workers in front of the village mosque, with the remainder fleeing the village. The residents of the neighbouring village were on the brink of intervening, but mediators stepped in. Three mediators from Khartoum were summoned to New Halfa, where negotiations took place. Ultimately, the mediators facilitated a resolution where the Zaghawa paid 65,000 pounds in compensation for the two killed workers, allowing work to continue.
The political authority in Sudan traditionally viewed the country as divided into two regions, the North, predominantly Muslim, and the South, predominantly Christian. The separation of the South in 2011 resulted in a predominantly Muslim state in the North. In the case of a dispute—whether this involved murder, border conflicts, land disputes, or conflicts over grazing rights—the resolution typically followed one of the following:The Koran, Hadith, Islamic Sharia, tribal customs (urf) and Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh).
These usually applied to Sudan’s Arabs particularly in the desert regions of the East and West. However, the conflict between Muslim Arabs and Christian Nubians, and the consequent Baqt agreement in 652 AD, remains an exception.
The Ajawid are considered men of knowledge who mediate disputes fairly and play a significant role in resolving conflicts. They, along with tribal leaders, religious figures, and native administrators, often intervene in public matters such as disputes or conflicts. Tribal leaders, religious scholars, and Sufi holy men are held in high esteem by everyone and their opinions are adhered to.
The majority of Sudanese adhere to the Maliki school of Islamic jurisprudence, while those in the far East adhere to the Shafi school, with some following the Hanafi school. Fiqh (Islamic legal reasoning) is less frequently used as a source of mediation, as its application varies among the four major Islamic schools.
In instances where there is a desire to reconcile, individuals are appointed to mediate, and meetings are convened. Tribal leaders are often called upon for larger disputes like wars or murder, while smaller conflicts, such as boundary or grazing disputes, are handled without their direct involvement. The Ajawid often play a central role in organizing and conducting these negotiations, with tribal customs being a guiding factor.
In these meetings, delegates are chosen to facilitate the process, with larger delegations enhancing their authority. In Darfur and Kordofan, the Hakama (poet-mediators) play an important role in easing tensions through spoken word, which helps bridge the gap between conflicting parties. Their role is significant, as they often offer persuasive and reasoned arguments.
Several methods are employed in conflict resolution including inviting the disputants to a specific location on a set date, a tribal leader mediating between the parties, delegates chosen by both sides to negotiate and agree upon a time and location.
The process often begins with a Koranic citation by a religious figure emphasizing verses that promote peace and reconciliation such as "and we have made you peoples and tribes so that you may know one another" or “and if they incline towards peace, then incline to it as well” or “peace be upon you, a word from a Merciful God.”
After the religious readings, a Sufi invocation may follow focussing on peace and unity. The mediators then introduce the Hakama to say her piece and then it is their turn to convey the message they have agreed upon beforehand. Disputants listen respectfully, either agreeing or rejecting what is said in a courteous manner. In all cases, mediators are known for their wisdom and experience in persuading others. If a consensus is reached, a ritual involving the slaughter of livestock as a sacrifice typically follows and is offered by the host to the guests involved. Since it is a given that all parties are Muslim, those gathered always arrive at the conclusion that peace is the best outcome and verses of the Koran and supplications invoking peace are read out. However, in the case of murder, blood money (diyya) is often negotiated and paid, typically facilitated by religious figures and Sufi leaders.
Cover picture: Court is in session, with the judges sitting in a row, El Fasher, 1950 © Durham Sudan archive
According to historical sources, Arabs entered Sudan before the arrival of Islam. The largest wave of Arab migration occurred following the Bugt Agreement of 652 AD between Muslim Arabs and the Nubians, towards whom the migrants were headed via the Nile from Egypt. Those who came to Sudan before Islam were renowned for their poetry which, being pre-Islamic is difficult to understand and has, here, been converted to prose:
Others have their civilisations but we are Bedouins. They have donkeys, while we have swords and good horses. If we raid those near us and find nothing to plunder, we raid those farther away. We even attack the firstborn of tribes who are our brothers if we find nothing to loot.
This poetic practice was common among Arab tribes in Sudan as wars and raids were prevalent for many years. The Sudanese have always been in awe of their Sufi holy men and have built shrines on their burial grounds. People believed that anyone who attacked the communities to which the holy men belonged would suffer illness, affliction, or death. Sudanese were therefore keen to demonstrate that their settlements were protected by the blessings of such men and sometimes even built shrines that did not contain a Sufi sheikh, to protect themselves against any possible attack.
Researcher Samir Mohamed Obaid says that in Sudan's history, before the Sultanate of Sennar, there was a period called the Qayman in which tribes would raid and steal each other’s camel herds. These raids were not considered theft but rather as an act of heroism. This was one of the main reasons why would claim noble lineage in relation to the Prophet Muhammad in order to evade these raids. The presence of a shrine became evidence of this lineage.
In this study, Anglo-Egyptian colonial powers created a Native Administration by appointing senior figures from various Arab tribes around Sudan. The Nazir, tribal chief, would arbitrate any disputes that arose among members of the tribe, whether with other members of the same tribe, or with those from other tribes. This was the norm in western Sudan, where Arab tribes were located, in central Sudan with the Jaliyin Arabs, and in the northern parts of central Sudan where the Rubatab, Manasir, and Shaigiya tribes had a Mak instead of a Nazir. In northernmost Sudan, the mayor, or Umdah, was in charge, while in eastern Sudan, the Beja had a Nazir. These leaders were responsible for waging and conducting wars.
Some of the wars in the history of Sudan have been documented, while others have not. There have been civil wars and wars with other countries, often arising from divisions within tribes. However, in many instances the warring sides sought peaceful solutions resulting in reconciliation between the belligerents.
In this research, we examine forms of war and conflict:
We will study the following relevant groups:
These were generally fostered by religious leaders. The Batahin tribes often fought against the Shukriyya, notably in conflicts such as the Battle of Mandara (171 AD), which took place in the Faw region. Subsequent battles included Ab-Haba, Al-Hajar, and Unwaan. Among the elders of the Batahin, there were those who were keen on maintaining peaceful relations between the Batahin and the Shukriyya. One such figure was Sheikh Abd-al-Bagi, a religious elder from the Batahin. He mediated peace between them in 1807 AD through treaties made between himself and the sons of Ahmad Pasha Abu Sin. Ahmad Pasha Abu Sin was the chief of the Butana region and governor of Khartoum and Sennar at the time. It is noticeable that this treaty was agreed very later on.
Sheikh Birayr of the Batahin tribe had launched a raid on Karama, in the northernmost part of the Butana region. The Kawahla had prepared for their war against Sheikh Birayr a warrior named Muhammad al-Milejabi, who was tasked with recruiting Beja warriors in order to form an alliance in order to eradicate Birayr’s army and to arrest and kill the Sheikh. Al-Milejabi remained with the Amarar branch of the Beja in the Balk region for two years during which he selected strong fighters. These later joined forces, forming a united army to fight Sheikh Birayr whom they later captured and killed. Muhammad al-Milejabi cut off Birayrs hands and presented them to a woman named Shagnaba from a tribe who had fought alongside the Kawahla. The researcher, Al-Tayib Muhammad al-Tayib notes that numerous tribes coexisted with the Shukryyia in the Butana region, including the Batahin, Kawahla, and Rikabiyya and that several wars broke out between these tribes during the early part of the 16th century AD. This included the alliance between the Funj and Rikabiyya who clashed with the Shukriyya, led by their warrior Abu Ali. There were 4,000 of the allies compared to a small number of Shukriyya. However, the latter were able to kill the leaders of the alliance, Idris Wad al-Zaki and Karanka Abu Sin Duf, at the beginning of the battle, thereby securing victory for the Shukriyya.
The Beja lived alongside the Shukriyya in the Butana region, spread along the eastern banks of the Atbara River. In the battle of Rerah in 1744 AD, The Beja formed an alliance with the Shukriyya to fight the Batahin, and prepared to attack. As a result, the leader of the Batahin army, Al-Tikayt, retreated with his army to a distant land, far away from the Shukriyya, known as Abu Dilayg, east of present-day Khartoum.
Under the title ‘Relationships between Tribes,’ researchers Abd-al-Qadr Awad-al-Karim Hassan and Omar Abd-al-Rahim Kabosh, in their book ‘A Pause with the Poets of Butana’ state that the relationships between the tribes of the Butana plain are strong and well-established, governed by tribal custom, and that conflicts or hostilities are rare and that when such disputes arise, tribal leaders usually intervene to reconcile and restore harmony.
The tribes of the Butana region are nomadic by nature and are mostly herders of camels, sheep and goats. Conflict therefore often arises over competition for resources such as pastures, valleys, and sources of water and expanding one’s territory to secure more pasture lands has always been a cause of conflict. In addition, these wars often stemmed from a sense of tribal pride and perceived distinctions. In ancient times, disputes were resolved through tribal affiliation, which persisted until the establishment of the New Halfa agricultural project which transformed them from nomadic tribes to settled agricultural communities.
Wars and counter-wars means that one tribe fights another tribe or entity, and this conflict is followed by a counter-war, until one party stops fighting and does not return to it. We previously mentioned that the Beja had settled along the course of the Atbara River, east of the Butana region. This land was not owned by any entity however, in 1791, the Shukriyya leader, Awad-al-Karim Abu-Sin, claimed the Butana region as his own and gave himself the right to determine who could settle there and who could be displaced. The Sultan of the Funj, Badi Wad Dikaym reinforced Abu-Sin’s right.
The Beja, who were warriors, clashed with the Shukriyya over their attempt to displace them from the banks of the Atbara River. A branch of the Shukriyya known as the Turgab, the sons of Hamad al-Atarag, emerged as some of the fiercest fighters and military leaders in the Butana region to the extent that it is said that most of them perished in wars, with only two families remaining today.
The Beja fighters began the war but where defeated in their earlier battles with the Shukriyya. However, when they entered into war again, the Turgab had given leadership of their troops to a strong war veteran called Wad-al-Bashir who was described by one of their poets as follows:
Wad-al-Bashir rose up and crossed the river swimming
Heading towards their ranks, pointing like the fronds of a dom palm
The Beja who could every day muster an army
Wad-al-Bashir forced them to submit and be occupied only with their prayers and fasting
The meaning here is that Wad-al-Bashir set out towards the Beja east of the river that was in full spate and did his worst. The Beja had, until then, been sending an army to fight the Shukriyya every day however, Wad-al-Bashir’s crushing victory forced Beja to live a life of seclusion, praying and fasting to Allah never to wage war again.
An example of war and counter-war was between the Bawadra and the Qinan, both tribes from the Butana region. The researcher Yasir Abdallah Abd-al-Rahim al-Khalifa referred to the conflict between these two tribes as the ‘War of the Whips.’ He says that what sparked this conflict was an incident when a member of the Qinan cut off the tail of an ox belonging to one of the Bawadra women. The woman mourned the loss of her ox’s tail and swore not to eat with her right hand until she saw what the Bawadra warriors would do about what the Qinan youth had done to her ox. This was a longstanding Arab custom, urging warriors to seek revenge and to put right the wrong done to them.
When the Bawadra warriors mobilized to confront the Qinan, the warrior Wad Bilelah swore that the Bawadra should only use whips, rather than swords, to discipline the Qinan. And so, they approached the Qinan whips in hand, thus mocking and ridiculing the Qinan who were known for their bravery and strength. The following war unfolded in two stages namely The Battle of the Whips and the Battle of Swords and Heroes.
During the first stage, the Bawadra used whips, providing a golden opportunity for the Qinan, who had prepared themselves to face the Bawadra warriors with their swords. When the time for battle came, the Qinan warriors were surprised the Bawadra were armed only with whips. Within hours, the Qinan warriors advanced killing many of the Bawadra warriors and were on the brink of victory had the remaining Bawadra not used their opponents’ swords against them. That day the Bawadra learned the lesson and that as a result of their overconfidence and contempt of others, they had nearly paralysed their own army. At this stage of the war, the Bawadra sustained heavy losses with many of their warriors being killed as a result of this irresponsible action.
In the second stage of this war, the Bawadra from the western Blue Nile, led by the warrior Ain Bur, arrived with other branches of the Bawadra tribe such as the Bayada, Mashala, and Dabasin, among others. The warrior Ain Bur vowed to completely annihilate the Qinan tribe, and he did so, wiping them out entirely, sparing only women and children. After this, battles occurred at locations such as Al-Sada and Al-Rikabiyyah and Malwiya. Thus, the Qinan tribe was dispersed across eastern Sudan and Eritrea, leaving only a small number who now inhabit the Butana Beja regions.
Yet despite history of the Butana region stating that it was customary for tribes in this region to settle disputes or raids through self-regulation and peace agreements, we observe that this custom did not exist during earlier wars particularly from the 16th to the 18th century. The latter period, particularly under Ahmad Bey Abu Sin, was marked by relentless raids and warfare in the Butana region, with no room for negotiation or peace, only violence and control.
In the context of wars involving the Ajawid (elders), we note Gald al-Beja a custom prevalent in the lands of the Beja. These peoples are made up of four main groups; most notably the Beja, with its numerous subsections; the Beni Amir; the Halanga; and the Basharyin. The term Beja refers to all these tribes and their subsections. Gald al-Beja describes the group of Ajawid elders who sit with both sides to resolve any dispute that may erupt in their lands even if it is murder. The term Gald means the meeting to enforce a binding resolution to a dispute, that may not be rejected by any party present. In his dictionary of the Sudanese colloquial dialect, Dr Awn Alsharif Qasim defines Ajawid as those who mediate between disputing parties to resolve a conflict peacefully. This is an excellent definition.
Two notable Beja wars included the conflict between the Ashraaf and the Kimaylab and the conflict between the Ashraaf and the Nabatab. Despite the many wars among the Beja tribes and their subgroups, Qasim states that he would prefer not to dwell on these so as not to revive old enmity. Perhaps he believed that remembering these wars would stir up old animosities. However, it is certain that all manner of Beja disputes was governed by the Gald practice.
Meanwhile, the Bawadra entered into two major wars after their long conflict with the Qinan including the War of Al-Hajiz, a location between Khashm al-Girba and Kasala and the war of Al-Malwiya, which took place in the same location.
According to Qasim, a small railway station on a rail line connecting to Port Sudan saw bloodshed spilled as if it were the ‘damira’ meaning the Nile flooding. This conflict was mediated by the Rikabiyya, a group of holy men spread-out across Sudan.
Political wars are often initiated by sultans and rulers. Their objectives is to bring the warring group into submission and peace, as we will see. The war we begin with is the war between the Ham Arab of the Humur and the Maaliya. This began when the Maaliya Arabs intercepted a caravan travelling from Egypt to Darfur, killing the traders who were carrying textiles and sugar belonging to the sultan. Sultan Hussein, who ruled Dar al-Nur between 1829 and 1874, was enraged and summoned Sheikh Maki Walad Munim, leader of the Humur Arabs, saying ‘I give you permission to spill the blood and seize the wealth of the Maaliya.’ Sheikh Maki gathered his men and allies and launched a bloody attack that resulted in a victory for the Humur Arabs and the sultan. This was the Battle of Al-Qurtas, named after the small conical paper containers used to carry the sugar.
In 1821, Ismail Pasha, the son of Egypt's Khedive Muhammad Ali Pasha, invaded Sudan with his troops advancing until they reached the Funj Sultanate. The Funj ruler, Muhammad Wad Adlan, surrendered and submitted to Ismail Pasha, who then took control of Sudan. Upon returning to Egypt in 1822, Ismail Pasha arrived in the lands of the Jaliyyin, where the Mak Nimir had made plans to kill him. At the centre of a large gathering, Ismail Pasha sat with his entourage, demanding cattle and wealth to emphasise the Mak’s submission. Mak Nimir had surrounded the council with firewood and positioned his warriors to attack. When the fire was ignited, his warriors attacked, killing Ismail Pasha and his retinue by burning them alive. Mak Nimir then fled to Ethiopia with his family. This led to the devastating defeat of the Jaliyyin at the hands of the Diftirdar representatives of the Egyptian authorities.
This conflict was later reignited by Khalifa Abdullah al-Tayshi after the death of Muhammad Ahmad Al-Mahdi in 1885. Al-Tayshi, who was the Mahdi’s successor, faced resistance from the Mahdi’s family, who claimed they were more entitled to the leadership and were Ashraaf, or descendants of the Prophet Muhammad’s lineage. This led to the struggle known as the Khalifa against Al-Ashraaf following the Mahdi’s death and which was essentially a power struggle—who was more rightful to lead the Mahdist state: the Sharifs due to their familial ties to Al-Mahdi, or the Khalifa, who held the second-highest position in the state during the Mahdi’s lifetime.
The Khalifa Abdullah mobilised the capital of the Mahdist state Omdurman and ordered his kin, the Taysha, and other worriers from tribes in Darfur, to arrest the rebellious Ashraaf. The Khalifa imprisoned all them, thus consolidating his rule over the Mahdist state until the Battle of Karari following the invasion of Sudan in 1898 by the colonial Anglo-Egyptian forces. The Khalifa fled with his followers and was later killed in Um Dibaykarat.
The first recorded war to end in reconciliation was the one sparked by Abdullah Ibn Abi Sarh against the Nubians in Dongola in northern Sudan in 652 AD. This war culminated in the signing of the "Baqt Agreement," which included three key clauses:
· Name of the Agreement: Baqt
· Arabs may pass through the land of Nubia (Sudan) but may not settle there and Nubians may pass through the land of the Arabs (Egypt, Arabian Peninsula) but may not settle there.
· Mosque Maintenance: The mosque built by Ibn Abi Sarh in Dongola is to be illuminated and maintained by the Nubians.
Historians have debated the authenticity of the Baqt Agreement, with some interpretations contradicting verified historical facts. For example, in Dr Awn Alsharif’s dictionary the term Baqt is recorded as Bagit meaning summit in the Nubian language of Dongola.
However, Arabs remained in Sudan in contravention of the agreement’s clauses, and Nubians migrated and settled in Arab lands. As for the mosque, archaeologists have concluded that it was a more modern structure containing the tomb of a sheikh whom they disinterred. These findings cast doubt on the historical existence of the Baqt Agreement, suggesting instead that mutual contributions from both sides resulted in reconciliation.
In western Sudan, wars have always broken out between the Arab tribes and between Arab tribes and those tribespeople of non-Arab origin. There have long been conflicts between the Salamat tribe (an Arab tribe) and other Arab tribes such as the Taysha, and between the Rizeigat against the Awlad Hin and the Kabbash against the Kawahla, who migrated to Kordofan. There have also been conflicts between the Hawazma tribe against the Nuba of the Nuba Mountains, and between Arab tribes and the Zaghawa people in northern Darfur—who are non-Arab. Similarly, there have been wars between the same tribes and the Masalit in northern Darfur. However, the important point is that the native administration in both Darfur and Kordofan, have a longstanding tradition of resolving wars peacefully through the intervention of senior native administrators to resolve differences between the warring sides.
The Madarna Mahas, who cohabited the land of the Butana with the Shukriyya fought wars against the Arab Rufaiyya tribe that lives along the bank of the Blue Nile, not far from the Madarna, east of the Rufaiyya. This dispute was over the borders between the warring groups. The Rufaiyya and Shukriyya, who inhabited the Blue Nile region to the southeast, eventually mediated a peace agreement between the warring parties. The peace settlement stipulated that they would share the borders on condition they lived together peacefully.
In the early period of their settlement in the land of the Butana under the Shukriya tribe, there was a war between the Madarna and the Shukriyya that never fully escalated. Both the Shukriyya and Madarna warriors mobilized for battle, but peace was quickly achieved through the mediation of a group of Shukriyya wise men, in particular their leader, Sheikh Abd-al-Hadi. The Madarna poet, Qasim Wad Attar, chronicled this war, saying:
With the Shukriyya, we have contracts and oaths,
Except for those driven by self-interest – they are ancestors to none.
Riders of hardship in the darkest night,
Their bravest among the crowd, never turns away from the poor.
After the Nubians were forcibly displaced from northern Sudan to the Butana region between 1963–1964, their villages consisted of plots of agricultural land measuring 15 acres designated specifically for crops like peanuts and cotton, which they were unaccustomed to. To overcome this challenge, they relied on the agricultural expertise of migrant workers who moved to the New Halfa Agricultural Project. These migrant workers came from West Africa and Darfur but also included Nubians. Conflicts arose as follows:
A Nubian killed a West African migrant over a farming dispute, leading to threats of war. However, the Nubians sought a peaceful resolution, and through mediation, they agreed to pay compensation (blood money) of 5 pounds per household to all 26 villages, amounting to 250 pounds per village. The affected villages in New Halfa boycotted farming, claiming they had worked on these plots for 35 years and deserved ownership. Disputes arose over compensation demands, particularly from Zaghawa laborers from Chad and Darfur, who sought a total of 32,500 pounds. The Nubians paid this amount in 1991 without involving the police or courts and the peace has thus been kept until this day.
In 2010, another conflict occurred involving migrant workers from Libya over the same farm plots. The residents of Village 10 resisted their claims which escalated the situation and resulted in the killing of farm workers in front of the village mosque, with the remainder fleeing the village. The residents of the neighbouring village were on the brink of intervening, but mediators stepped in. Three mediators from Khartoum were summoned to New Halfa, where negotiations took place. Ultimately, the mediators facilitated a resolution where the Zaghawa paid 65,000 pounds in compensation for the two killed workers, allowing work to continue.
The political authority in Sudan traditionally viewed the country as divided into two regions, the North, predominantly Muslim, and the South, predominantly Christian. The separation of the South in 2011 resulted in a predominantly Muslim state in the North. In the case of a dispute—whether this involved murder, border conflicts, land disputes, or conflicts over grazing rights—the resolution typically followed one of the following:The Koran, Hadith, Islamic Sharia, tribal customs (urf) and Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh).
These usually applied to Sudan’s Arabs particularly in the desert regions of the East and West. However, the conflict between Muslim Arabs and Christian Nubians, and the consequent Baqt agreement in 652 AD, remains an exception.
The Ajawid are considered men of knowledge who mediate disputes fairly and play a significant role in resolving conflicts. They, along with tribal leaders, religious figures, and native administrators, often intervene in public matters such as disputes or conflicts. Tribal leaders, religious scholars, and Sufi holy men are held in high esteem by everyone and their opinions are adhered to.
The majority of Sudanese adhere to the Maliki school of Islamic jurisprudence, while those in the far East adhere to the Shafi school, with some following the Hanafi school. Fiqh (Islamic legal reasoning) is less frequently used as a source of mediation, as its application varies among the four major Islamic schools.
In instances where there is a desire to reconcile, individuals are appointed to mediate, and meetings are convened. Tribal leaders are often called upon for larger disputes like wars or murder, while smaller conflicts, such as boundary or grazing disputes, are handled without their direct involvement. The Ajawid often play a central role in organizing and conducting these negotiations, with tribal customs being a guiding factor.
In these meetings, delegates are chosen to facilitate the process, with larger delegations enhancing their authority. In Darfur and Kordofan, the Hakama (poet-mediators) play an important role in easing tensions through spoken word, which helps bridge the gap between conflicting parties. Their role is significant, as they often offer persuasive and reasoned arguments.
Several methods are employed in conflict resolution including inviting the disputants to a specific location on a set date, a tribal leader mediating between the parties, delegates chosen by both sides to negotiate and agree upon a time and location.
The process often begins with a Koranic citation by a religious figure emphasizing verses that promote peace and reconciliation such as "and we have made you peoples and tribes so that you may know one another" or “and if they incline towards peace, then incline to it as well” or “peace be upon you, a word from a Merciful God.”
After the religious readings, a Sufi invocation may follow focussing on peace and unity. The mediators then introduce the Hakama to say her piece and then it is their turn to convey the message they have agreed upon beforehand. Disputants listen respectfully, either agreeing or rejecting what is said in a courteous manner. In all cases, mediators are known for their wisdom and experience in persuading others. If a consensus is reached, a ritual involving the slaughter of livestock as a sacrifice typically follows and is offered by the host to the guests involved. Since it is a given that all parties are Muslim, those gathered always arrive at the conclusion that peace is the best outcome and verses of the Koran and supplications invoking peace are read out. However, in the case of murder, blood money (diyya) is often negotiated and paid, typically facilitated by religious figures and Sufi leaders.
Cover picture: Court is in session, with the judges sitting in a row, El Fasher, 1950 © Durham Sudan archive
According to historical sources, Arabs entered Sudan before the arrival of Islam. The largest wave of Arab migration occurred following the Bugt Agreement of 652 AD between Muslim Arabs and the Nubians, towards whom the migrants were headed via the Nile from Egypt. Those who came to Sudan before Islam were renowned for their poetry which, being pre-Islamic is difficult to understand and has, here, been converted to prose:
Others have their civilisations but we are Bedouins. They have donkeys, while we have swords and good horses. If we raid those near us and find nothing to plunder, we raid those farther away. We even attack the firstborn of tribes who are our brothers if we find nothing to loot.
This poetic practice was common among Arab tribes in Sudan as wars and raids were prevalent for many years. The Sudanese have always been in awe of their Sufi holy men and have built shrines on their burial grounds. People believed that anyone who attacked the communities to which the holy men belonged would suffer illness, affliction, or death. Sudanese were therefore keen to demonstrate that their settlements were protected by the blessings of such men and sometimes even built shrines that did not contain a Sufi sheikh, to protect themselves against any possible attack.
Researcher Samir Mohamed Obaid says that in Sudan's history, before the Sultanate of Sennar, there was a period called the Qayman in which tribes would raid and steal each other’s camel herds. These raids were not considered theft but rather as an act of heroism. This was one of the main reasons why would claim noble lineage in relation to the Prophet Muhammad in order to evade these raids. The presence of a shrine became evidence of this lineage.
In this study, Anglo-Egyptian colonial powers created a Native Administration by appointing senior figures from various Arab tribes around Sudan. The Nazir, tribal chief, would arbitrate any disputes that arose among members of the tribe, whether with other members of the same tribe, or with those from other tribes. This was the norm in western Sudan, where Arab tribes were located, in central Sudan with the Jaliyin Arabs, and in the northern parts of central Sudan where the Rubatab, Manasir, and Shaigiya tribes had a Mak instead of a Nazir. In northernmost Sudan, the mayor, or Umdah, was in charge, while in eastern Sudan, the Beja had a Nazir. These leaders were responsible for waging and conducting wars.
Some of the wars in the history of Sudan have been documented, while others have not. There have been civil wars and wars with other countries, often arising from divisions within tribes. However, in many instances the warring sides sought peaceful solutions resulting in reconciliation between the belligerents.
In this research, we examine forms of war and conflict:
We will study the following relevant groups:
These were generally fostered by religious leaders. The Batahin tribes often fought against the Shukriyya, notably in conflicts such as the Battle of Mandara (171 AD), which took place in the Faw region. Subsequent battles included Ab-Haba, Al-Hajar, and Unwaan. Among the elders of the Batahin, there were those who were keen on maintaining peaceful relations between the Batahin and the Shukriyya. One such figure was Sheikh Abd-al-Bagi, a religious elder from the Batahin. He mediated peace between them in 1807 AD through treaties made between himself and the sons of Ahmad Pasha Abu Sin. Ahmad Pasha Abu Sin was the chief of the Butana region and governor of Khartoum and Sennar at the time. It is noticeable that this treaty was agreed very later on.
Sheikh Birayr of the Batahin tribe had launched a raid on Karama, in the northernmost part of the Butana region. The Kawahla had prepared for their war against Sheikh Birayr a warrior named Muhammad al-Milejabi, who was tasked with recruiting Beja warriors in order to form an alliance in order to eradicate Birayr’s army and to arrest and kill the Sheikh. Al-Milejabi remained with the Amarar branch of the Beja in the Balk region for two years during which he selected strong fighters. These later joined forces, forming a united army to fight Sheikh Birayr whom they later captured and killed. Muhammad al-Milejabi cut off Birayrs hands and presented them to a woman named Shagnaba from a tribe who had fought alongside the Kawahla. The researcher, Al-Tayib Muhammad al-Tayib notes that numerous tribes coexisted with the Shukryyia in the Butana region, including the Batahin, Kawahla, and Rikabiyya and that several wars broke out between these tribes during the early part of the 16th century AD. This included the alliance between the Funj and Rikabiyya who clashed with the Shukriyya, led by their warrior Abu Ali. There were 4,000 of the allies compared to a small number of Shukriyya. However, the latter were able to kill the leaders of the alliance, Idris Wad al-Zaki and Karanka Abu Sin Duf, at the beginning of the battle, thereby securing victory for the Shukriyya.
The Beja lived alongside the Shukriyya in the Butana region, spread along the eastern banks of the Atbara River. In the battle of Rerah in 1744 AD, The Beja formed an alliance with the Shukriyya to fight the Batahin, and prepared to attack. As a result, the leader of the Batahin army, Al-Tikayt, retreated with his army to a distant land, far away from the Shukriyya, known as Abu Dilayg, east of present-day Khartoum.
Under the title ‘Relationships between Tribes,’ researchers Abd-al-Qadr Awad-al-Karim Hassan and Omar Abd-al-Rahim Kabosh, in their book ‘A Pause with the Poets of Butana’ state that the relationships between the tribes of the Butana plain are strong and well-established, governed by tribal custom, and that conflicts or hostilities are rare and that when such disputes arise, tribal leaders usually intervene to reconcile and restore harmony.
The tribes of the Butana region are nomadic by nature and are mostly herders of camels, sheep and goats. Conflict therefore often arises over competition for resources such as pastures, valleys, and sources of water and expanding one’s territory to secure more pasture lands has always been a cause of conflict. In addition, these wars often stemmed from a sense of tribal pride and perceived distinctions. In ancient times, disputes were resolved through tribal affiliation, which persisted until the establishment of the New Halfa agricultural project which transformed them from nomadic tribes to settled agricultural communities.
Wars and counter-wars means that one tribe fights another tribe or entity, and this conflict is followed by a counter-war, until one party stops fighting and does not return to it. We previously mentioned that the Beja had settled along the course of the Atbara River, east of the Butana region. This land was not owned by any entity however, in 1791, the Shukriyya leader, Awad-al-Karim Abu-Sin, claimed the Butana region as his own and gave himself the right to determine who could settle there and who could be displaced. The Sultan of the Funj, Badi Wad Dikaym reinforced Abu-Sin’s right.
The Beja, who were warriors, clashed with the Shukriyya over their attempt to displace them from the banks of the Atbara River. A branch of the Shukriyya known as the Turgab, the sons of Hamad al-Atarag, emerged as some of the fiercest fighters and military leaders in the Butana region to the extent that it is said that most of them perished in wars, with only two families remaining today.
The Beja fighters began the war but where defeated in their earlier battles with the Shukriyya. However, when they entered into war again, the Turgab had given leadership of their troops to a strong war veteran called Wad-al-Bashir who was described by one of their poets as follows:
Wad-al-Bashir rose up and crossed the river swimming
Heading towards their ranks, pointing like the fronds of a dom palm
The Beja who could every day muster an army
Wad-al-Bashir forced them to submit and be occupied only with their prayers and fasting
The meaning here is that Wad-al-Bashir set out towards the Beja east of the river that was in full spate and did his worst. The Beja had, until then, been sending an army to fight the Shukriyya every day however, Wad-al-Bashir’s crushing victory forced Beja to live a life of seclusion, praying and fasting to Allah never to wage war again.
An example of war and counter-war was between the Bawadra and the Qinan, both tribes from the Butana region. The researcher Yasir Abdallah Abd-al-Rahim al-Khalifa referred to the conflict between these two tribes as the ‘War of the Whips.’ He says that what sparked this conflict was an incident when a member of the Qinan cut off the tail of an ox belonging to one of the Bawadra women. The woman mourned the loss of her ox’s tail and swore not to eat with her right hand until she saw what the Bawadra warriors would do about what the Qinan youth had done to her ox. This was a longstanding Arab custom, urging warriors to seek revenge and to put right the wrong done to them.
When the Bawadra warriors mobilized to confront the Qinan, the warrior Wad Bilelah swore that the Bawadra should only use whips, rather than swords, to discipline the Qinan. And so, they approached the Qinan whips in hand, thus mocking and ridiculing the Qinan who were known for their bravery and strength. The following war unfolded in two stages namely The Battle of the Whips and the Battle of Swords and Heroes.
During the first stage, the Bawadra used whips, providing a golden opportunity for the Qinan, who had prepared themselves to face the Bawadra warriors with their swords. When the time for battle came, the Qinan warriors were surprised the Bawadra were armed only with whips. Within hours, the Qinan warriors advanced killing many of the Bawadra warriors and were on the brink of victory had the remaining Bawadra not used their opponents’ swords against them. That day the Bawadra learned the lesson and that as a result of their overconfidence and contempt of others, they had nearly paralysed their own army. At this stage of the war, the Bawadra sustained heavy losses with many of their warriors being killed as a result of this irresponsible action.
In the second stage of this war, the Bawadra from the western Blue Nile, led by the warrior Ain Bur, arrived with other branches of the Bawadra tribe such as the Bayada, Mashala, and Dabasin, among others. The warrior Ain Bur vowed to completely annihilate the Qinan tribe, and he did so, wiping them out entirely, sparing only women and children. After this, battles occurred at locations such as Al-Sada and Al-Rikabiyyah and Malwiya. Thus, the Qinan tribe was dispersed across eastern Sudan and Eritrea, leaving only a small number who now inhabit the Butana Beja regions.
Yet despite history of the Butana region stating that it was customary for tribes in this region to settle disputes or raids through self-regulation and peace agreements, we observe that this custom did not exist during earlier wars particularly from the 16th to the 18th century. The latter period, particularly under Ahmad Bey Abu Sin, was marked by relentless raids and warfare in the Butana region, with no room for negotiation or peace, only violence and control.
In the context of wars involving the Ajawid (elders), we note Gald al-Beja a custom prevalent in the lands of the Beja. These peoples are made up of four main groups; most notably the Beja, with its numerous subsections; the Beni Amir; the Halanga; and the Basharyin. The term Beja refers to all these tribes and their subsections. Gald al-Beja describes the group of Ajawid elders who sit with both sides to resolve any dispute that may erupt in their lands even if it is murder. The term Gald means the meeting to enforce a binding resolution to a dispute, that may not be rejected by any party present. In his dictionary of the Sudanese colloquial dialect, Dr Awn Alsharif Qasim defines Ajawid as those who mediate between disputing parties to resolve a conflict peacefully. This is an excellent definition.
Two notable Beja wars included the conflict between the Ashraaf and the Kimaylab and the conflict between the Ashraaf and the Nabatab. Despite the many wars among the Beja tribes and their subgroups, Qasim states that he would prefer not to dwell on these so as not to revive old enmity. Perhaps he believed that remembering these wars would stir up old animosities. However, it is certain that all manner of Beja disputes was governed by the Gald practice.
Meanwhile, the Bawadra entered into two major wars after their long conflict with the Qinan including the War of Al-Hajiz, a location between Khashm al-Girba and Kasala and the war of Al-Malwiya, which took place in the same location.
According to Qasim, a small railway station on a rail line connecting to Port Sudan saw bloodshed spilled as if it were the ‘damira’ meaning the Nile flooding. This conflict was mediated by the Rikabiyya, a group of holy men spread-out across Sudan.
Political wars are often initiated by sultans and rulers. Their objectives is to bring the warring group into submission and peace, as we will see. The war we begin with is the war between the Ham Arab of the Humur and the Maaliya. This began when the Maaliya Arabs intercepted a caravan travelling from Egypt to Darfur, killing the traders who were carrying textiles and sugar belonging to the sultan. Sultan Hussein, who ruled Dar al-Nur between 1829 and 1874, was enraged and summoned Sheikh Maki Walad Munim, leader of the Humur Arabs, saying ‘I give you permission to spill the blood and seize the wealth of the Maaliya.’ Sheikh Maki gathered his men and allies and launched a bloody attack that resulted in a victory for the Humur Arabs and the sultan. This was the Battle of Al-Qurtas, named after the small conical paper containers used to carry the sugar.
In 1821, Ismail Pasha, the son of Egypt's Khedive Muhammad Ali Pasha, invaded Sudan with his troops advancing until they reached the Funj Sultanate. The Funj ruler, Muhammad Wad Adlan, surrendered and submitted to Ismail Pasha, who then took control of Sudan. Upon returning to Egypt in 1822, Ismail Pasha arrived in the lands of the Jaliyyin, where the Mak Nimir had made plans to kill him. At the centre of a large gathering, Ismail Pasha sat with his entourage, demanding cattle and wealth to emphasise the Mak’s submission. Mak Nimir had surrounded the council with firewood and positioned his warriors to attack. When the fire was ignited, his warriors attacked, killing Ismail Pasha and his retinue by burning them alive. Mak Nimir then fled to Ethiopia with his family. This led to the devastating defeat of the Jaliyyin at the hands of the Diftirdar representatives of the Egyptian authorities.
This conflict was later reignited by Khalifa Abdullah al-Tayshi after the death of Muhammad Ahmad Al-Mahdi in 1885. Al-Tayshi, who was the Mahdi’s successor, faced resistance from the Mahdi’s family, who claimed they were more entitled to the leadership and were Ashraaf, or descendants of the Prophet Muhammad’s lineage. This led to the struggle known as the Khalifa against Al-Ashraaf following the Mahdi’s death and which was essentially a power struggle—who was more rightful to lead the Mahdist state: the Sharifs due to their familial ties to Al-Mahdi, or the Khalifa, who held the second-highest position in the state during the Mahdi’s lifetime.
The Khalifa Abdullah mobilised the capital of the Mahdist state Omdurman and ordered his kin, the Taysha, and other worriers from tribes in Darfur, to arrest the rebellious Ashraaf. The Khalifa imprisoned all them, thus consolidating his rule over the Mahdist state until the Battle of Karari following the invasion of Sudan in 1898 by the colonial Anglo-Egyptian forces. The Khalifa fled with his followers and was later killed in Um Dibaykarat.
The first recorded war to end in reconciliation was the one sparked by Abdullah Ibn Abi Sarh against the Nubians in Dongola in northern Sudan in 652 AD. This war culminated in the signing of the "Baqt Agreement," which included three key clauses:
· Name of the Agreement: Baqt
· Arabs may pass through the land of Nubia (Sudan) but may not settle there and Nubians may pass through the land of the Arabs (Egypt, Arabian Peninsula) but may not settle there.
· Mosque Maintenance: The mosque built by Ibn Abi Sarh in Dongola is to be illuminated and maintained by the Nubians.
Historians have debated the authenticity of the Baqt Agreement, with some interpretations contradicting verified historical facts. For example, in Dr Awn Alsharif’s dictionary the term Baqt is recorded as Bagit meaning summit in the Nubian language of Dongola.
However, Arabs remained in Sudan in contravention of the agreement’s clauses, and Nubians migrated and settled in Arab lands. As for the mosque, archaeologists have concluded that it was a more modern structure containing the tomb of a sheikh whom they disinterred. These findings cast doubt on the historical existence of the Baqt Agreement, suggesting instead that mutual contributions from both sides resulted in reconciliation.
In western Sudan, wars have always broken out between the Arab tribes and between Arab tribes and those tribespeople of non-Arab origin. There have long been conflicts between the Salamat tribe (an Arab tribe) and other Arab tribes such as the Taysha, and between the Rizeigat against the Awlad Hin and the Kabbash against the Kawahla, who migrated to Kordofan. There have also been conflicts between the Hawazma tribe against the Nuba of the Nuba Mountains, and between Arab tribes and the Zaghawa people in northern Darfur—who are non-Arab. Similarly, there have been wars between the same tribes and the Masalit in northern Darfur. However, the important point is that the native administration in both Darfur and Kordofan, have a longstanding tradition of resolving wars peacefully through the intervention of senior native administrators to resolve differences between the warring sides.
The Madarna Mahas, who cohabited the land of the Butana with the Shukriyya fought wars against the Arab Rufaiyya tribe that lives along the bank of the Blue Nile, not far from the Madarna, east of the Rufaiyya. This dispute was over the borders between the warring groups. The Rufaiyya and Shukriyya, who inhabited the Blue Nile region to the southeast, eventually mediated a peace agreement between the warring parties. The peace settlement stipulated that they would share the borders on condition they lived together peacefully.
In the early period of their settlement in the land of the Butana under the Shukriya tribe, there was a war between the Madarna and the Shukriyya that never fully escalated. Both the Shukriyya and Madarna warriors mobilized for battle, but peace was quickly achieved through the mediation of a group of Shukriyya wise men, in particular their leader, Sheikh Abd-al-Hadi. The Madarna poet, Qasim Wad Attar, chronicled this war, saying:
With the Shukriyya, we have contracts and oaths,
Except for those driven by self-interest – they are ancestors to none.
Riders of hardship in the darkest night,
Their bravest among the crowd, never turns away from the poor.
After the Nubians were forcibly displaced from northern Sudan to the Butana region between 1963–1964, their villages consisted of plots of agricultural land measuring 15 acres designated specifically for crops like peanuts and cotton, which they were unaccustomed to. To overcome this challenge, they relied on the agricultural expertise of migrant workers who moved to the New Halfa Agricultural Project. These migrant workers came from West Africa and Darfur but also included Nubians. Conflicts arose as follows:
A Nubian killed a West African migrant over a farming dispute, leading to threats of war. However, the Nubians sought a peaceful resolution, and through mediation, they agreed to pay compensation (blood money) of 5 pounds per household to all 26 villages, amounting to 250 pounds per village. The affected villages in New Halfa boycotted farming, claiming they had worked on these plots for 35 years and deserved ownership. Disputes arose over compensation demands, particularly from Zaghawa laborers from Chad and Darfur, who sought a total of 32,500 pounds. The Nubians paid this amount in 1991 without involving the police or courts and the peace has thus been kept until this day.
In 2010, another conflict occurred involving migrant workers from Libya over the same farm plots. The residents of Village 10 resisted their claims which escalated the situation and resulted in the killing of farm workers in front of the village mosque, with the remainder fleeing the village. The residents of the neighbouring village were on the brink of intervening, but mediators stepped in. Three mediators from Khartoum were summoned to New Halfa, where negotiations took place. Ultimately, the mediators facilitated a resolution where the Zaghawa paid 65,000 pounds in compensation for the two killed workers, allowing work to continue.
The political authority in Sudan traditionally viewed the country as divided into two regions, the North, predominantly Muslim, and the South, predominantly Christian. The separation of the South in 2011 resulted in a predominantly Muslim state in the North. In the case of a dispute—whether this involved murder, border conflicts, land disputes, or conflicts over grazing rights—the resolution typically followed one of the following:The Koran, Hadith, Islamic Sharia, tribal customs (urf) and Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh).
These usually applied to Sudan’s Arabs particularly in the desert regions of the East and West. However, the conflict between Muslim Arabs and Christian Nubians, and the consequent Baqt agreement in 652 AD, remains an exception.
The Ajawid are considered men of knowledge who mediate disputes fairly and play a significant role in resolving conflicts. They, along with tribal leaders, religious figures, and native administrators, often intervene in public matters such as disputes or conflicts. Tribal leaders, religious scholars, and Sufi holy men are held in high esteem by everyone and their opinions are adhered to.
The majority of Sudanese adhere to the Maliki school of Islamic jurisprudence, while those in the far East adhere to the Shafi school, with some following the Hanafi school. Fiqh (Islamic legal reasoning) is less frequently used as a source of mediation, as its application varies among the four major Islamic schools.
In instances where there is a desire to reconcile, individuals are appointed to mediate, and meetings are convened. Tribal leaders are often called upon for larger disputes like wars or murder, while smaller conflicts, such as boundary or grazing disputes, are handled without their direct involvement. The Ajawid often play a central role in organizing and conducting these negotiations, with tribal customs being a guiding factor.
In these meetings, delegates are chosen to facilitate the process, with larger delegations enhancing their authority. In Darfur and Kordofan, the Hakama (poet-mediators) play an important role in easing tensions through spoken word, which helps bridge the gap between conflicting parties. Their role is significant, as they often offer persuasive and reasoned arguments.
Several methods are employed in conflict resolution including inviting the disputants to a specific location on a set date, a tribal leader mediating between the parties, delegates chosen by both sides to negotiate and agree upon a time and location.
The process often begins with a Koranic citation by a religious figure emphasizing verses that promote peace and reconciliation such as "and we have made you peoples and tribes so that you may know one another" or “and if they incline towards peace, then incline to it as well” or “peace be upon you, a word from a Merciful God.”
After the religious readings, a Sufi invocation may follow focussing on peace and unity. The mediators then introduce the Hakama to say her piece and then it is their turn to convey the message they have agreed upon beforehand. Disputants listen respectfully, either agreeing or rejecting what is said in a courteous manner. In all cases, mediators are known for their wisdom and experience in persuading others. If a consensus is reached, a ritual involving the slaughter of livestock as a sacrifice typically follows and is offered by the host to the guests involved. Since it is a given that all parties are Muslim, those gathered always arrive at the conclusion that peace is the best outcome and verses of the Koran and supplications invoking peace are read out. However, in the case of murder, blood money (diyya) is often negotiated and paid, typically facilitated by religious figures and Sufi leaders.
Cover picture: Court is in session, with the judges sitting in a row, El Fasher, 1950 © Durham Sudan archive
Lawh is a small Wooden board used for teaching the Quran, Some Quran verses were written in one sides, in the name of Allah the Merciful (بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم), written on it with special ink called Ammar it consists of glue and black soot.
A pot of ink (Dawaya) is made of gourd with a hole in the top and stopper woven around with rope, and three pens of wicker stems. Found in Nyala dates back to Islamic period.
Darfur museum collection
Lawh is a small Wooden board used for teaching the Quran, Some Quran verses were written in one sides, in the name of Allah the Merciful (بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم), written on it with special ink called Ammar it consists of glue and black soot.
A pot of ink (Dawaya) is made of gourd with a hole in the top and stopper woven around with rope, and three pens of wicker stems. Found in Nyala dates back to Islamic period.
Darfur museum collection
Lawh is a small Wooden board used for teaching the Quran, Some Quran verses were written in one sides, in the name of Allah the Merciful (بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم), written on it with special ink called Ammar it consists of glue and black soot.
A pot of ink (Dawaya) is made of gourd with a hole in the top and stopper woven around with rope, and three pens of wicker stems. Found in Nyala dates back to Islamic period.
Darfur museum collection
During the reign of Al Imam Al Mahdi, the mosque was an open space. After his death in 1885, his followers built a surrounding mud wall to accommodate 20,000 worshippers. In 1889, they rebuilt the wall with burnt bricks and whitewashed it with white lime. They added eight openings in the wall, including a large wooden door facing Al Khalifa Abdullah's house.
The mosque had a mihrab on the eastern side, for Al Khalifa to head the daily prayers, except for Friday, and on the western side of the mosque there was a wing dedicated to women for prayer, religious education, Qur’an sessions, and reading the Ratib of Al Imam Al Mahdi. Prayer in the Great Mosque was compulsory.
The worshipers following Al Khalifa Abdullah had a specific arrangement, and, in his absence, scholars without political leanings acted on his behalf.
After the Battle of Karrari, Lord Kitchener used the area of the Great Mosque as a parade ground and an arena for the army to march. During the 1970s, the northern, eastern, and western sides of the wall were demolished to make a public park, but the project failed.
It is now one of the largest spaces in Omdurman. Religious events such as Eid prayers, the Prophet's birthday celebrations, and national celebrations are held there.
The inhabitants of Omdurman adorned their city during the religious seasons with its most festive decorations. Banners were raised, troops were paraded through the streets, drums were beaten, and Al Khalifa joined the celebrations.
Before the Great mosque get known for the celebration space for the Prophet’s (Peace Be Upon Him) birthday, Al Mawlid Al Nabawi, The Ansar would celebrate Eid Al Rajabiyah (held on the 27th of Rajab every year), Eid Al Fitr, and Eid Al Adha. On the Eid Al Adha, the city received many visitors, either to celebrate or to obey Al Khalifa Abdullah's request.
The governing Amil and the Amirs of the provinces would be summoned to the capital to renew their loyalty to him, as well as to discuss problems and find solutions. During the Eid celebrations, AlKhalifa rallied tribes whose loyalty he doubted and made them pledge their loyalty.
During the reign of Al Imam Al Mahdi, the mosque was an open space. After his death in 1885, his followers built a surrounding mud wall to accommodate 20,000 worshippers. In 1889, they rebuilt the wall with burnt bricks and whitewashed it with white lime. They added eight openings in the wall, including a large wooden door facing Al Khalifa Abdullah's house.
The mosque had a mihrab on the eastern side, for Al Khalifa to head the daily prayers, except for Friday, and on the western side of the mosque there was a wing dedicated to women for prayer, religious education, Qur’an sessions, and reading the Ratib of Al Imam Al Mahdi. Prayer in the Great Mosque was compulsory.
The worshipers following Al Khalifa Abdullah had a specific arrangement, and, in his absence, scholars without political leanings acted on his behalf.
After the Battle of Karrari, Lord Kitchener used the area of the Great Mosque as a parade ground and an arena for the army to march. During the 1970s, the northern, eastern, and western sides of the wall were demolished to make a public park, but the project failed.
It is now one of the largest spaces in Omdurman. Religious events such as Eid prayers, the Prophet's birthday celebrations, and national celebrations are held there.
The inhabitants of Omdurman adorned their city during the religious seasons with its most festive decorations. Banners were raised, troops were paraded through the streets, drums were beaten, and Al Khalifa joined the celebrations.
Before the Great mosque get known for the celebration space for the Prophet’s (Peace Be Upon Him) birthday, Al Mawlid Al Nabawi, The Ansar would celebrate Eid Al Rajabiyah (held on the 27th of Rajab every year), Eid Al Fitr, and Eid Al Adha. On the Eid Al Adha, the city received many visitors, either to celebrate or to obey Al Khalifa Abdullah's request.
The governing Amil and the Amirs of the provinces would be summoned to the capital to renew their loyalty to him, as well as to discuss problems and find solutions. During the Eid celebrations, AlKhalifa rallied tribes whose loyalty he doubted and made them pledge their loyalty.
During the reign of Al Imam Al Mahdi, the mosque was an open space. After his death in 1885, his followers built a surrounding mud wall to accommodate 20,000 worshippers. In 1889, they rebuilt the wall with burnt bricks and whitewashed it with white lime. They added eight openings in the wall, including a large wooden door facing Al Khalifa Abdullah's house.
The mosque had a mihrab on the eastern side, for Al Khalifa to head the daily prayers, except for Friday, and on the western side of the mosque there was a wing dedicated to women for prayer, religious education, Qur’an sessions, and reading the Ratib of Al Imam Al Mahdi. Prayer in the Great Mosque was compulsory.
The worshipers following Al Khalifa Abdullah had a specific arrangement, and, in his absence, scholars without political leanings acted on his behalf.
After the Battle of Karrari, Lord Kitchener used the area of the Great Mosque as a parade ground and an arena for the army to march. During the 1970s, the northern, eastern, and western sides of the wall were demolished to make a public park, but the project failed.
It is now one of the largest spaces in Omdurman. Religious events such as Eid prayers, the Prophet's birthday celebrations, and national celebrations are held there.
The inhabitants of Omdurman adorned their city during the religious seasons with its most festive decorations. Banners were raised, troops were paraded through the streets, drums were beaten, and Al Khalifa joined the celebrations.
Before the Great mosque get known for the celebration space for the Prophet’s (Peace Be Upon Him) birthday, Al Mawlid Al Nabawi, The Ansar would celebrate Eid Al Rajabiyah (held on the 27th of Rajab every year), Eid Al Fitr, and Eid Al Adha. On the Eid Al Adha, the city received many visitors, either to celebrate or to obey Al Khalifa Abdullah's request.
The governing Amil and the Amirs of the provinces would be summoned to the capital to renew their loyalty to him, as well as to discuss problems and find solutions. During the Eid celebrations, AlKhalifa rallied tribes whose loyalty he doubted and made them pledge their loyalty.
In this episode, we discuss the impact of the ongoing war in Sudan on the archiving of intangible cultural heritage in its official or organized forms, such as museums and libraries, as well as traditional forms, and people’s livelihoods. Through the episode, we will learn about the methods of transferring and preserving intangible cultural practices between different generations in peace and war situations, and how the displacement of communities from their usual or original places affects this transfer process.
Sandius Kodi: Writer, and lecturer at the University of Khartoum
Asia Mahmoud: Social Studies researcher
Amna Elidrissy: An architect, researcher interested in intangible heritage and a private archive curator.
Muhammad Adam Abu: Musician, and co-founder of the Naqara project.
Fatima Mohamed AlHassan: Founder of the Women's museum in Darfur "Interview recording".
Presented by: Azza Muhammad and Roaa Ismail
Research and production of Roaa Ismail, with the participation of Zainab Gaafar and Amna Elidrissy
Mixed by Roaa Ismail
Music: Al Zein Studio
Managed by: Zainab Gaafar
In this episode, we discuss the impact of the ongoing war in Sudan on the archiving of intangible cultural heritage in its official or organized forms, such as museums and libraries, as well as traditional forms, and people’s livelihoods. Through the episode, we will learn about the methods of transferring and preserving intangible cultural practices between different generations in peace and war situations, and how the displacement of communities from their usual or original places affects this transfer process.
Sandius Kodi: Writer, and lecturer at the University of Khartoum
Asia Mahmoud: Social Studies researcher
Amna Elidrissy: An architect, researcher interested in intangible heritage and a private archive curator.
Muhammad Adam Abu: Musician, and co-founder of the Naqara project.
Fatima Mohamed AlHassan: Founder of the Women's museum in Darfur "Interview recording".
Presented by: Azza Muhammad and Roaa Ismail
Research and production of Roaa Ismail, with the participation of Zainab Gaafar and Amna Elidrissy
Mixed by Roaa Ismail
Music: Al Zein Studio
Managed by: Zainab Gaafar
In this episode, we discuss the impact of the ongoing war in Sudan on the archiving of intangible cultural heritage in its official or organized forms, such as museums and libraries, as well as traditional forms, and people’s livelihoods. Through the episode, we will learn about the methods of transferring and preserving intangible cultural practices between different generations in peace and war situations, and how the displacement of communities from their usual or original places affects this transfer process.
Sandius Kodi: Writer, and lecturer at the University of Khartoum
Asia Mahmoud: Social Studies researcher
Amna Elidrissy: An architect, researcher interested in intangible heritage and a private archive curator.
Muhammad Adam Abu: Musician, and co-founder of the Naqara project.
Fatima Mohamed AlHassan: Founder of the Women's museum in Darfur "Interview recording".
Presented by: Azza Muhammad and Roaa Ismail
Research and production of Roaa Ismail, with the participation of Zainab Gaafar and Amna Elidrissy
Mixed by Roaa Ismail
Music: Al Zein Studio
Managed by: Zainab Gaafar
The Jibba
The Jibba is considered a Mahdist/Sufi symbol of asceticism, simplicity, and contempt for worldly life. The symbolism of the Jibba was that it was an attempt to encourage national unity among supporters of the Mahdi. The patches symbolized the status and position of the wearer. At the beginning of Al Khalifa Abdullah's reign, some people began to decorate their patches. During the last years of the Mahdia state, the patched Jibba was transformed into a very elegant outfit using English and Egyptian fabrics. Its manufacture required highly professional skills, as the appliques began to be sewn on the fabric of the jubbah with much artistic interest, balance, and symmetry.
The Jibba was not the only distinctive garment worn by the Ansar, as the Ansar also wore the "Jalabia Janah Um Jako" It is a Jalabiya designed to be worn both ways when in a hurry, and a practical design that helps to ride horses quickly.
It is also designed to take into consideration the desert weather, and it is an economical garment that can be worn on both sides so it won't wear out easily from frequent sittings in the circle of dhikr.
Tagiya Um Gerainat
Tagiya Um Gerainat appeared in Christian kingdoms and then in the Islamic Funj state in Sennar (1504-1820). Originally worn by kings, it later became a symbol of prestige and distinction. As the Sultanate disintegrated, it was used in Sufi rituals until the Mahdia period. It was also used in the Sennari ceremony in which the student was promoted to a Shaikh. Sufis continue to wear it to this day in these rituals in the Dhikr circles. During the Mahdist state, it was worn by the Amirs and members of Al Khalifa Abdullah's guard, known as the Mishmaratiya.
The white turban
The men wore a white turban with the Jibba, with an edge that descended to the shoulder and is called the "Azabah". Underneath it was the conical "Tarator" hat that distinguished the Ansar, or a straw hat.
Cover picture: Jibba in Khalifa house collection © Noory Taha, Added by Isaac Allison, March 18, 2023, Reproduced with permission from British Council. Photo by Noory Taha.
The Jibba
The Jibba is considered a Mahdist/Sufi symbol of asceticism, simplicity, and contempt for worldly life. The symbolism of the Jibba was that it was an attempt to encourage national unity among supporters of the Mahdi. The patches symbolized the status and position of the wearer. At the beginning of Al Khalifa Abdullah's reign, some people began to decorate their patches. During the last years of the Mahdia state, the patched Jibba was transformed into a very elegant outfit using English and Egyptian fabrics. Its manufacture required highly professional skills, as the appliques began to be sewn on the fabric of the jubbah with much artistic interest, balance, and symmetry.
The Jibba was not the only distinctive garment worn by the Ansar, as the Ansar also wore the "Jalabia Janah Um Jako" It is a Jalabiya designed to be worn both ways when in a hurry, and a practical design that helps to ride horses quickly.
It is also designed to take into consideration the desert weather, and it is an economical garment that can be worn on both sides so it won't wear out easily from frequent sittings in the circle of dhikr.
Tagiya Um Gerainat
Tagiya Um Gerainat appeared in Christian kingdoms and then in the Islamic Funj state in Sennar (1504-1820). Originally worn by kings, it later became a symbol of prestige and distinction. As the Sultanate disintegrated, it was used in Sufi rituals until the Mahdia period. It was also used in the Sennari ceremony in which the student was promoted to a Shaikh. Sufis continue to wear it to this day in these rituals in the Dhikr circles. During the Mahdist state, it was worn by the Amirs and members of Al Khalifa Abdullah's guard, known as the Mishmaratiya.
The white turban
The men wore a white turban with the Jibba, with an edge that descended to the shoulder and is called the "Azabah". Underneath it was the conical "Tarator" hat that distinguished the Ansar, or a straw hat.
Cover picture: Jibba in Khalifa house collection © Noory Taha, Added by Isaac Allison, March 18, 2023, Reproduced with permission from British Council. Photo by Noory Taha.
The Jibba
The Jibba is considered a Mahdist/Sufi symbol of asceticism, simplicity, and contempt for worldly life. The symbolism of the Jibba was that it was an attempt to encourage national unity among supporters of the Mahdi. The patches symbolized the status and position of the wearer. At the beginning of Al Khalifa Abdullah's reign, some people began to decorate their patches. During the last years of the Mahdia state, the patched Jibba was transformed into a very elegant outfit using English and Egyptian fabrics. Its manufacture required highly professional skills, as the appliques began to be sewn on the fabric of the jubbah with much artistic interest, balance, and symmetry.
The Jibba was not the only distinctive garment worn by the Ansar, as the Ansar also wore the "Jalabia Janah Um Jako" It is a Jalabiya designed to be worn both ways when in a hurry, and a practical design that helps to ride horses quickly.
It is also designed to take into consideration the desert weather, and it is an economical garment that can be worn on both sides so it won't wear out easily from frequent sittings in the circle of dhikr.
Tagiya Um Gerainat
Tagiya Um Gerainat appeared in Christian kingdoms and then in the Islamic Funj state in Sennar (1504-1820). Originally worn by kings, it later became a symbol of prestige and distinction. As the Sultanate disintegrated, it was used in Sufi rituals until the Mahdia period. It was also used in the Sennari ceremony in which the student was promoted to a Shaikh. Sufis continue to wear it to this day in these rituals in the Dhikr circles. During the Mahdist state, it was worn by the Amirs and members of Al Khalifa Abdullah's guard, known as the Mishmaratiya.
The white turban
The men wore a white turban with the Jibba, with an edge that descended to the shoulder and is called the "Azabah". Underneath it was the conical "Tarator" hat that distinguished the Ansar, or a straw hat.
Cover picture: Jibba in Khalifa house collection © Noory Taha, Added by Isaac Allison, March 18, 2023, Reproduced with permission from British Council. Photo by Noory Taha.
Many traditional Sudanese garments have been tailored and designed for practical reasons to help cope with the hot climate, work needs and even as at times of war. Many of the clothes we associate with the Sudanese national dress are also worn in other areas in Sub-Saharan Africa, especially the women’s sari-like garment, tob, and the men’s gown, jallabiyya.
The jallabiyya, a wide, A-shaped gown is popular all around Africa including countries with Arab influence. Worn extensively around Sudan, there are minor differences in the style of jallabiyya according to the geographic location. One distinctive type of jallabiyya is the ansariyya which was popularized during the period of the Mahdiyya as a garment that can be donned at haste when there was a call for battle. The front and back of this jallabiyya are identical, with sides having a pocket sewn on. The garment’s A- shape was ideal for horse-riding and participating in combat.
Varieties of the Sudanese women’s tob can also be found throughout Sudan and in many countries in sub-Saharan Africa; everywhere from Mauritania, Nigeria and Chad, to southern Libya and have names such as laffaya, melhfa and dampe. There are a variety of ways in which the tob is worn in these different countries; from the length of the fabric to how it is wrapped around the body. This is the same in Sudan where ways of wearing the tob vary with styles being influenced for example by the women’s work whether it is farming, herding or just everyday housework.
Today the tob has become the object of fashion statements with artists in all these countries competing with new design ideas and European factories producing these designs, and new fabrics, every year. However, these slippery, silky and heavily sequined designs have rendered this type of tob completely impractical for everyday use and they are only worn on special occasions by married women. Cultural connections between the residents of the sub-saharan sahel region was generally thought to be the main reason for the popularity of the tob here however, academics point to the practical adaptation of the garment to the heat, strong sunlight and dry air that characterises the region’s climate. Wearing long, flowing, light-coloured gowns that cover the head, and which produce air pockets around the body, is an ideal design to keep both men and women cool in the heat.
Another versatile item of clothing is the leather shoe, markoob, worn predominantly by men in most parts of Sudan. The type of markoob depends on what leather is available and can include the skins of anything from rock pythons and leopards to humble cow hide. This traditional type of footwear is also seeing a resurgence and makeover with young Sudanese entrepreneurs creating colourful designs of the markoob for both men and women.
Cover picture: Three sets of men's jallabiyya, 1. Traditional men's wear with front and back pockets (Ansariyya). 2. Traditional men's wear consists of four pieces (Jiba, Aragi, Sirwal, Taqiya). 3.Traditional men's wear of the Baggara tribe (Bagariyya) © Darfur Women’s Museum
Many traditional Sudanese garments have been tailored and designed for practical reasons to help cope with the hot climate, work needs and even as at times of war. Many of the clothes we associate with the Sudanese national dress are also worn in other areas in Sub-Saharan Africa, especially the women’s sari-like garment, tob, and the men’s gown, jallabiyya.
The jallabiyya, a wide, A-shaped gown is popular all around Africa including countries with Arab influence. Worn extensively around Sudan, there are minor differences in the style of jallabiyya according to the geographic location. One distinctive type of jallabiyya is the ansariyya which was popularized during the period of the Mahdiyya as a garment that can be donned at haste when there was a call for battle. The front and back of this jallabiyya are identical, with sides having a pocket sewn on. The garment’s A- shape was ideal for horse-riding and participating in combat.
Varieties of the Sudanese women’s tob can also be found throughout Sudan and in many countries in sub-Saharan Africa; everywhere from Mauritania, Nigeria and Chad, to southern Libya and have names such as laffaya, melhfa and dampe. There are a variety of ways in which the tob is worn in these different countries; from the length of the fabric to how it is wrapped around the body. This is the same in Sudan where ways of wearing the tob vary with styles being influenced for example by the women’s work whether it is farming, herding or just everyday housework.
Today the tob has become the object of fashion statements with artists in all these countries competing with new design ideas and European factories producing these designs, and new fabrics, every year. However, these slippery, silky and heavily sequined designs have rendered this type of tob completely impractical for everyday use and they are only worn on special occasions by married women. Cultural connections between the residents of the sub-saharan sahel region was generally thought to be the main reason for the popularity of the tob here however, academics point to the practical adaptation of the garment to the heat, strong sunlight and dry air that characterises the region’s climate. Wearing long, flowing, light-coloured gowns that cover the head, and which produce air pockets around the body, is an ideal design to keep both men and women cool in the heat.
Another versatile item of clothing is the leather shoe, markoob, worn predominantly by men in most parts of Sudan. The type of markoob depends on what leather is available and can include the skins of anything from rock pythons and leopards to humble cow hide. This traditional type of footwear is also seeing a resurgence and makeover with young Sudanese entrepreneurs creating colourful designs of the markoob for both men and women.
Cover picture: Three sets of men's jallabiyya, 1. Traditional men's wear with front and back pockets (Ansariyya). 2. Traditional men's wear consists of four pieces (Jiba, Aragi, Sirwal, Taqiya). 3.Traditional men's wear of the Baggara tribe (Bagariyya) © Darfur Women’s Museum
Many traditional Sudanese garments have been tailored and designed for practical reasons to help cope with the hot climate, work needs and even as at times of war. Many of the clothes we associate with the Sudanese national dress are also worn in other areas in Sub-Saharan Africa, especially the women’s sari-like garment, tob, and the men’s gown, jallabiyya.
The jallabiyya, a wide, A-shaped gown is popular all around Africa including countries with Arab influence. Worn extensively around Sudan, there are minor differences in the style of jallabiyya according to the geographic location. One distinctive type of jallabiyya is the ansariyya which was popularized during the period of the Mahdiyya as a garment that can be donned at haste when there was a call for battle. The front and back of this jallabiyya are identical, with sides having a pocket sewn on. The garment’s A- shape was ideal for horse-riding and participating in combat.
Varieties of the Sudanese women’s tob can also be found throughout Sudan and in many countries in sub-Saharan Africa; everywhere from Mauritania, Nigeria and Chad, to southern Libya and have names such as laffaya, melhfa and dampe. There are a variety of ways in which the tob is worn in these different countries; from the length of the fabric to how it is wrapped around the body. This is the same in Sudan where ways of wearing the tob vary with styles being influenced for example by the women’s work whether it is farming, herding or just everyday housework.
Today the tob has become the object of fashion statements with artists in all these countries competing with new design ideas and European factories producing these designs, and new fabrics, every year. However, these slippery, silky and heavily sequined designs have rendered this type of tob completely impractical for everyday use and they are only worn on special occasions by married women. Cultural connections between the residents of the sub-saharan sahel region was generally thought to be the main reason for the popularity of the tob here however, academics point to the practical adaptation of the garment to the heat, strong sunlight and dry air that characterises the region’s climate. Wearing long, flowing, light-coloured gowns that cover the head, and which produce air pockets around the body, is an ideal design to keep both men and women cool in the heat.
Another versatile item of clothing is the leather shoe, markoob, worn predominantly by men in most parts of Sudan. The type of markoob depends on what leather is available and can include the skins of anything from rock pythons and leopards to humble cow hide. This traditional type of footwear is also seeing a resurgence and makeover with young Sudanese entrepreneurs creating colourful designs of the markoob for both men and women.
Cover picture: Three sets of men's jallabiyya, 1. Traditional men's wear with front and back pockets (Ansariyya). 2. Traditional men's wear consists of four pieces (Jiba, Aragi, Sirwal, Taqiya). 3.Traditional men's wear of the Baggara tribe (Bagariyya) © Darfur Women’s Museum
This episode gives an overview of the alternative music scene in Khartoum within the past 60 years by discussing the diverse influences leading to the emergence and development of Jazz, Zannig, and Rap musical genres in the city. We review the intersections of some of these genres with social class and politics in Khartoum and how they’ve become cultural products that were minimally represented and were not allowed to be fully legitimized by official media channels and institutions, thus they’ve historically been marginalized.
Interviewed in this episode are some of Sudan’s pioneer artists in Jazz and Zannig and through their stories, we discuss the cultural ‘otherization’ and social stigma imposed by the dominant elites against these genres. Despite these circumstances, we explore the process through which Jazz, Zannig, and Rap have become a part of the mainstream music scene in Sudan by utilizing alternative platforms such as the internet and social media.
Through this podcast, we invite Sudan’s youth to participate in the documentation and support of alternative music by any means possible.
Researchers and Producers: Leena Shibeika, Almuzn MohamedElhassan, Mai Abusalih, and Alrassa.
Script Writers: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Presenters: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Music: Zain Records.
Audio Mixing: Tariq Suliman.
Project Manager: Zainab Gaafar.
Technical assistance: elMastaba TV.
Recording studio: Rift Digital Lab.
This episode gives an overview of the alternative music scene in Khartoum within the past 60 years by discussing the diverse influences leading to the emergence and development of Jazz, Zannig, and Rap musical genres in the city. We review the intersections of some of these genres with social class and politics in Khartoum and how they’ve become cultural products that were minimally represented and were not allowed to be fully legitimized by official media channels and institutions, thus they’ve historically been marginalized.
Interviewed in this episode are some of Sudan’s pioneer artists in Jazz and Zannig and through their stories, we discuss the cultural ‘otherization’ and social stigma imposed by the dominant elites against these genres. Despite these circumstances, we explore the process through which Jazz, Zannig, and Rap have become a part of the mainstream music scene in Sudan by utilizing alternative platforms such as the internet and social media.
Through this podcast, we invite Sudan’s youth to participate in the documentation and support of alternative music by any means possible.
Researchers and Producers: Leena Shibeika, Almuzn MohamedElhassan, Mai Abusalih, and Alrassa.
Script Writers: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Presenters: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Music: Zain Records.
Audio Mixing: Tariq Suliman.
Project Manager: Zainab Gaafar.
Technical assistance: elMastaba TV.
Recording studio: Rift Digital Lab.
This episode gives an overview of the alternative music scene in Khartoum within the past 60 years by discussing the diverse influences leading to the emergence and development of Jazz, Zannig, and Rap musical genres in the city. We review the intersections of some of these genres with social class and politics in Khartoum and how they’ve become cultural products that were minimally represented and were not allowed to be fully legitimized by official media channels and institutions, thus they’ve historically been marginalized.
Interviewed in this episode are some of Sudan’s pioneer artists in Jazz and Zannig and through their stories, we discuss the cultural ‘otherization’ and social stigma imposed by the dominant elites against these genres. Despite these circumstances, we explore the process through which Jazz, Zannig, and Rap have become a part of the mainstream music scene in Sudan by utilizing alternative platforms such as the internet and social media.
Through this podcast, we invite Sudan’s youth to participate in the documentation and support of alternative music by any means possible.
Researchers and Producers: Leena Shibeika, Almuzn MohamedElhassan, Mai Abusalih, and Alrassa.
Script Writers: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Presenters: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Music: Zain Records.
Audio Mixing: Tariq Suliman.
Project Manager: Zainab Gaafar.
Technical assistance: elMastaba TV.
Recording studio: Rift Digital Lab.
A knowledge of many
In the age of Artificial Intelligence, the term machine learning defines the process whereby computers are fed large amounts of data and then algorithms prompt the computers to recognize certain patterns thus allowing our devices to come up with useful answers to our questions. Where these large data sets are sourced is of course now part of a conversation about ethics - where does the data come from and have people consented to giving it? The concept of crowdsourcing or collective knowledge, when many individuals contribute information, is not a new one, in fact it has been cited as far back as the 1700s and Plato’s concept of a group mind. One example of collective knowledge occurred In 1857 when a group of British intellectuals decided to compile a new English dictionary with a comprehensive set of words, definitions, and usages. They put out a call for volunteers to submit words from books in their libraries and eventually received more than 2 million word references. Even in today’s corporate world, companies try to think of ways to promote collective knowledge compilation and knowledge exchange between co-workers to try to retain it as capital within the company.
However, the concept of group mind Plato is describing in fact predates the 1700s. It is one of society’s key characteristics and a group of people living in a specific settlement over a long period of time will undoubtedly start forming a type of collective knowledge, which is the sum of knowledge, practices, skills, understanding, interactions and beliefs that are shared, developed, preserved, and passed down within a community over generations. It can also be referred to as ‘the knowledge of a group’ when a large group of people contribute their knowledge and skills, the collective knowledge of the group can be greater than the sum of its individual members' understanding. The contribution aspect is important to mention, as even though the group shares a lot of understanding, there is also an individual level of expertise that is important for the functioning of the group as a collective.
But how does a specific society share knowledge between its members to the extent that even at a young age, a child may hold a wealth of knowledge about his or her community? Researchers continue to study traditional or indigenous knowledge through an anthropological lens. Some methods for transmitting this type of knowledge include storytelling, an important means of teaching and learning for many communities, and one that is based on oral transmission and a reliance on human memory. These stories can revolve around local history, wisdom, skills, and an understanding of the land. Songs, dances, craft making, rituals, and performances are another method known as ‘shadow learning’ which essentially entails youth observing their elders and mimicking their actions.
All of the above cultural systems are a culmination of social dynamics and knowledge that are used to serve a group’s goals of survival and prosperity. It is deeply rooted in the cultural, social, and environmental context of the group and often reflects their unique way of understanding and interacting with the world. The knowledge is collectively held rather than being owned by any one individual, and it evolves as the community adapts to changes in its environment and way of life.
A river is a friend not a foe
Tuti Island’s community is a prime example of how societies retain knowledge and use it, over decades, to survive adversities such as major floods.
On the confluence of the Blue and White Niles in the heart of Khartoum sits one of the largest islands located on the River Nile measuring approximately four square kilometers. Tuti has been inhabited since the 15th century but the British archaeologist Arkell believes that it was occupied even earlier because of the presence on the island of objects dating back to the Stone Age. The island is home to several ethnic groups from all over Sudan and abroad. These groups have brought their own unique cultures and traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation.
Yet despite its location at the heart of the capital city, Tuti remained in its rural condition and was only recently included in the expanding urbanisation projects being undertaken around Khartoum. Its informal morphology and rural forms of livelihood were for many years in distinct contrast with downtown Khartoum, metres away, on the opposite bank of the river. However, new infrastructure sped up the process of urbanisation. The newly constructed Tuti Bridge offers the first, and only, direct road connection between the island and the rest of the city, a journey previously undertaken via barges and ferries. The bridge has inevitably had a big effect on the island’s residents offering them greater access to services and work opportunities and increasing the diversity of the island’s population. So far little is known about the effect the bridge has had on Tuti’s environment and social fabric or what role indigenous knowledge practices played in dealing with the new situation.
For the island’s inhabitants, The Nile is the very source of life with their livelihoods being primarily based on agriculture and fishing. The fertile soil on the island is utilized for the cultivation of a variety of vegetables and fruit and fishing creates a major source of income for many residents who rely on the river for their daily catch.
However, when the flooding season arrives, the Nile can also be the source of destruction. Khartoum’ first recorded major flood was in 1878 when the Blue Nile overflowed its banks, damaging homes and livelihoods. In 1946 another major flood in Khartoum resulted in extensive damage to buildings and infrastructure with floodwaters reaching six meters in height in some areas leaving thousands homeless. The 1988 floods in Khartoum were notorious and occurred following an extensive downpour over several days resulting in over 1,000 casualties and thousands of people being displaced. More recently, heavy rains in 2020 resulted in flooding in which nearly 1 million people were affected and in Khartoum alone, over 100 people were killed, with thousands displaced and resulting damages estimated to be worth USD 4.4 billion. Interestingly, even though Tuti was also flooded that year, no casualties were reported and only two houses were destroyed.
It is necessary to understand that flooding is not a natural disaster, it is man-made. The Nile has been flooding for thousands of years, while humans have only begun inhabiting these lands relatively recently. For plants to grow and animals to survive, a river needs to expand and ‘breathe’, the ecosystem in which we live relies on this, and it is therefore necessary for the river to flood. However, this ancient agreement of coexistence, based on the temporality of occupation and use of land by humans, is gradually being eroded and the demarcation line between people and river has, over time, become blurred. These recent inhabitants do not understand the river, all they know is the tame water flowing obediently through its channel and the chatting and laughter of friends sitting alongside it or for rituals they perform in it like dipping their newborns in the water for blessing. But a river will always come to claim its land! This is what the people of Tuti Island know and why they understand that you cannot fight flooding but instead you must learn how to live with it.
A story of agility
The way the residents of Tuti Island have adapted methods to counter flooding is quite remarkable. Their flood mitigation system is called Al-Taya meaning the place of gathering or the shelter. The famous flood of 1946 helped shape the Island’s flood mitigation culture with the story going back to 1944 when the British Governor at the time ordered the islanders to evict Tuti and annexed the land to be part of the property of the Gordon Memorial College. The islanders refused, and the order sparked conflict and distrust between the residents and colonizers. Subsequently, when flooding occurred in 1946, colonial authorities refused to provide the residents with tools or support to protect their homes and lands. As a result, the islanders mobilised among themselves to protect their island from the rising waters using their own bodies as a barricade for flood defence. The community solidarity that developed as a result of this act was the basis for what evolved into the Taya system as we know it today. This heightened sense of independence and connection to the island and its people is essentially how the system has developed together with the Sudanese tradition of collective action during times of crises. Even today, popular songs such as ajaboni alaila jo, or ‘how I admire those who came [to help]’, continue to mark this important event in 1946.
Part of the Taya system includes a network of different lookout points located around the island, managed by groups of people from various neighbourhoods and maintained by the womenfolk, to observe the river’s activity. They are linked by an alert mechanism which uses drums and the loudspeakers in mosques and everyone in the community, whether child or older person, man or woman knows how to barricade rising river waters if they have to. The Taya is managed by a head person assigned at the beginning of the flood season and the lookout position is rotated between a group of 7 people. The Taya system is upgraded annually with lookout locations changing regularly depending on changes in urban growth and flooding patterns. One key change has been the introduction of the flood mitigation committee for Tuti Island. The committee was established in 1988 and since then it became a recognised body by the government that manages all phases of flood management as well as all types of funding and assistance. The knowledge of the people of Tuti has not gone unrecognized and they were awarded champions of disaster risk reduction by the UN’s disaster risk reduction body, UNISDR.
What the future holds
The impact of future flooding is likely to be different because of several factors including climate projections which suggest that the intensity of precipitation is expected to increase in the future. Moreover, the ongoing war which erupted in mid-April 2023, and the direct siege the Islanders have had to endure since, has greatly affected the islanders response capacity. The war has also resulted in the displacement of a large number of the island’s residents which has a direct impact over the ability of islanders to protect themselves against floods. The collective knowledge with regards to flood defence, and the number of available responders, were the community’s most valuable assets. Thus, the current conflict puts practices based on traditional knowledge at great risk with potentially irreversible consequences. However, perhaps when the time comes, the lessons of resilience of the Tuti Islanders in the face of natural disasters, that are aggravated by man-made actions, is a story that will continue to be remembered and played out again.
Cover picture: Tuti Island 2017 © Zainab Gaafar
A knowledge of many
In the age of Artificial Intelligence, the term machine learning defines the process whereby computers are fed large amounts of data and then algorithms prompt the computers to recognize certain patterns thus allowing our devices to come up with useful answers to our questions. Where these large data sets are sourced is of course now part of a conversation about ethics - where does the data come from and have people consented to giving it? The concept of crowdsourcing or collective knowledge, when many individuals contribute information, is not a new one, in fact it has been cited as far back as the 1700s and Plato’s concept of a group mind. One example of collective knowledge occurred In 1857 when a group of British intellectuals decided to compile a new English dictionary with a comprehensive set of words, definitions, and usages. They put out a call for volunteers to submit words from books in their libraries and eventually received more than 2 million word references. Even in today’s corporate world, companies try to think of ways to promote collective knowledge compilation and knowledge exchange between co-workers to try to retain it as capital within the company.
However, the concept of group mind Plato is describing in fact predates the 1700s. It is one of society’s key characteristics and a group of people living in a specific settlement over a long period of time will undoubtedly start forming a type of collective knowledge, which is the sum of knowledge, practices, skills, understanding, interactions and beliefs that are shared, developed, preserved, and passed down within a community over generations. It can also be referred to as ‘the knowledge of a group’ when a large group of people contribute their knowledge and skills, the collective knowledge of the group can be greater than the sum of its individual members' understanding. The contribution aspect is important to mention, as even though the group shares a lot of understanding, there is also an individual level of expertise that is important for the functioning of the group as a collective.
But how does a specific society share knowledge between its members to the extent that even at a young age, a child may hold a wealth of knowledge about his or her community? Researchers continue to study traditional or indigenous knowledge through an anthropological lens. Some methods for transmitting this type of knowledge include storytelling, an important means of teaching and learning for many communities, and one that is based on oral transmission and a reliance on human memory. These stories can revolve around local history, wisdom, skills, and an understanding of the land. Songs, dances, craft making, rituals, and performances are another method known as ‘shadow learning’ which essentially entails youth observing their elders and mimicking their actions.
All of the above cultural systems are a culmination of social dynamics and knowledge that are used to serve a group’s goals of survival and prosperity. It is deeply rooted in the cultural, social, and environmental context of the group and often reflects their unique way of understanding and interacting with the world. The knowledge is collectively held rather than being owned by any one individual, and it evolves as the community adapts to changes in its environment and way of life.
A river is a friend not a foe
Tuti Island’s community is a prime example of how societies retain knowledge and use it, over decades, to survive adversities such as major floods.
On the confluence of the Blue and White Niles in the heart of Khartoum sits one of the largest islands located on the River Nile measuring approximately four square kilometers. Tuti has been inhabited since the 15th century but the British archaeologist Arkell believes that it was occupied even earlier because of the presence on the island of objects dating back to the Stone Age. The island is home to several ethnic groups from all over Sudan and abroad. These groups have brought their own unique cultures and traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation.
Yet despite its location at the heart of the capital city, Tuti remained in its rural condition and was only recently included in the expanding urbanisation projects being undertaken around Khartoum. Its informal morphology and rural forms of livelihood were for many years in distinct contrast with downtown Khartoum, metres away, on the opposite bank of the river. However, new infrastructure sped up the process of urbanisation. The newly constructed Tuti Bridge offers the first, and only, direct road connection between the island and the rest of the city, a journey previously undertaken via barges and ferries. The bridge has inevitably had a big effect on the island’s residents offering them greater access to services and work opportunities and increasing the diversity of the island’s population. So far little is known about the effect the bridge has had on Tuti’s environment and social fabric or what role indigenous knowledge practices played in dealing with the new situation.
For the island’s inhabitants, The Nile is the very source of life with their livelihoods being primarily based on agriculture and fishing. The fertile soil on the island is utilized for the cultivation of a variety of vegetables and fruit and fishing creates a major source of income for many residents who rely on the river for their daily catch.
However, when the flooding season arrives, the Nile can also be the source of destruction. Khartoum’ first recorded major flood was in 1878 when the Blue Nile overflowed its banks, damaging homes and livelihoods. In 1946 another major flood in Khartoum resulted in extensive damage to buildings and infrastructure with floodwaters reaching six meters in height in some areas leaving thousands homeless. The 1988 floods in Khartoum were notorious and occurred following an extensive downpour over several days resulting in over 1,000 casualties and thousands of people being displaced. More recently, heavy rains in 2020 resulted in flooding in which nearly 1 million people were affected and in Khartoum alone, over 100 people were killed, with thousands displaced and resulting damages estimated to be worth USD 4.4 billion. Interestingly, even though Tuti was also flooded that year, no casualties were reported and only two houses were destroyed.
It is necessary to understand that flooding is not a natural disaster, it is man-made. The Nile has been flooding for thousands of years, while humans have only begun inhabiting these lands relatively recently. For plants to grow and animals to survive, a river needs to expand and ‘breathe’, the ecosystem in which we live relies on this, and it is therefore necessary for the river to flood. However, this ancient agreement of coexistence, based on the temporality of occupation and use of land by humans, is gradually being eroded and the demarcation line between people and river has, over time, become blurred. These recent inhabitants do not understand the river, all they know is the tame water flowing obediently through its channel and the chatting and laughter of friends sitting alongside it or for rituals they perform in it like dipping their newborns in the water for blessing. But a river will always come to claim its land! This is what the people of Tuti Island know and why they understand that you cannot fight flooding but instead you must learn how to live with it.
A story of agility
The way the residents of Tuti Island have adapted methods to counter flooding is quite remarkable. Their flood mitigation system is called Al-Taya meaning the place of gathering or the shelter. The famous flood of 1946 helped shape the Island’s flood mitigation culture with the story going back to 1944 when the British Governor at the time ordered the islanders to evict Tuti and annexed the land to be part of the property of the Gordon Memorial College. The islanders refused, and the order sparked conflict and distrust between the residents and colonizers. Subsequently, when flooding occurred in 1946, colonial authorities refused to provide the residents with tools or support to protect their homes and lands. As a result, the islanders mobilised among themselves to protect their island from the rising waters using their own bodies as a barricade for flood defence. The community solidarity that developed as a result of this act was the basis for what evolved into the Taya system as we know it today. This heightened sense of independence and connection to the island and its people is essentially how the system has developed together with the Sudanese tradition of collective action during times of crises. Even today, popular songs such as ajaboni alaila jo, or ‘how I admire those who came [to help]’, continue to mark this important event in 1946.
Part of the Taya system includes a network of different lookout points located around the island, managed by groups of people from various neighbourhoods and maintained by the womenfolk, to observe the river’s activity. They are linked by an alert mechanism which uses drums and the loudspeakers in mosques and everyone in the community, whether child or older person, man or woman knows how to barricade rising river waters if they have to. The Taya is managed by a head person assigned at the beginning of the flood season and the lookout position is rotated between a group of 7 people. The Taya system is upgraded annually with lookout locations changing regularly depending on changes in urban growth and flooding patterns. One key change has been the introduction of the flood mitigation committee for Tuti Island. The committee was established in 1988 and since then it became a recognised body by the government that manages all phases of flood management as well as all types of funding and assistance. The knowledge of the people of Tuti has not gone unrecognized and they were awarded champions of disaster risk reduction by the UN’s disaster risk reduction body, UNISDR.
What the future holds
The impact of future flooding is likely to be different because of several factors including climate projections which suggest that the intensity of precipitation is expected to increase in the future. Moreover, the ongoing war which erupted in mid-April 2023, and the direct siege the Islanders have had to endure since, has greatly affected the islanders response capacity. The war has also resulted in the displacement of a large number of the island’s residents which has a direct impact over the ability of islanders to protect themselves against floods. The collective knowledge with regards to flood defence, and the number of available responders, were the community’s most valuable assets. Thus, the current conflict puts practices based on traditional knowledge at great risk with potentially irreversible consequences. However, perhaps when the time comes, the lessons of resilience of the Tuti Islanders in the face of natural disasters, that are aggravated by man-made actions, is a story that will continue to be remembered and played out again.
Cover picture: Tuti Island 2017 © Zainab Gaafar
A knowledge of many
In the age of Artificial Intelligence, the term machine learning defines the process whereby computers are fed large amounts of data and then algorithms prompt the computers to recognize certain patterns thus allowing our devices to come up with useful answers to our questions. Where these large data sets are sourced is of course now part of a conversation about ethics - where does the data come from and have people consented to giving it? The concept of crowdsourcing or collective knowledge, when many individuals contribute information, is not a new one, in fact it has been cited as far back as the 1700s and Plato’s concept of a group mind. One example of collective knowledge occurred In 1857 when a group of British intellectuals decided to compile a new English dictionary with a comprehensive set of words, definitions, and usages. They put out a call for volunteers to submit words from books in their libraries and eventually received more than 2 million word references. Even in today’s corporate world, companies try to think of ways to promote collective knowledge compilation and knowledge exchange between co-workers to try to retain it as capital within the company.
However, the concept of group mind Plato is describing in fact predates the 1700s. It is one of society’s key characteristics and a group of people living in a specific settlement over a long period of time will undoubtedly start forming a type of collective knowledge, which is the sum of knowledge, practices, skills, understanding, interactions and beliefs that are shared, developed, preserved, and passed down within a community over generations. It can also be referred to as ‘the knowledge of a group’ when a large group of people contribute their knowledge and skills, the collective knowledge of the group can be greater than the sum of its individual members' understanding. The contribution aspect is important to mention, as even though the group shares a lot of understanding, there is also an individual level of expertise that is important for the functioning of the group as a collective.
But how does a specific society share knowledge between its members to the extent that even at a young age, a child may hold a wealth of knowledge about his or her community? Researchers continue to study traditional or indigenous knowledge through an anthropological lens. Some methods for transmitting this type of knowledge include storytelling, an important means of teaching and learning for many communities, and one that is based on oral transmission and a reliance on human memory. These stories can revolve around local history, wisdom, skills, and an understanding of the land. Songs, dances, craft making, rituals, and performances are another method known as ‘shadow learning’ which essentially entails youth observing their elders and mimicking their actions.
All of the above cultural systems are a culmination of social dynamics and knowledge that are used to serve a group’s goals of survival and prosperity. It is deeply rooted in the cultural, social, and environmental context of the group and often reflects their unique way of understanding and interacting with the world. The knowledge is collectively held rather than being owned by any one individual, and it evolves as the community adapts to changes in its environment and way of life.
A river is a friend not a foe
Tuti Island’s community is a prime example of how societies retain knowledge and use it, over decades, to survive adversities such as major floods.
On the confluence of the Blue and White Niles in the heart of Khartoum sits one of the largest islands located on the River Nile measuring approximately four square kilometers. Tuti has been inhabited since the 15th century but the British archaeologist Arkell believes that it was occupied even earlier because of the presence on the island of objects dating back to the Stone Age. The island is home to several ethnic groups from all over Sudan and abroad. These groups have brought their own unique cultures and traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation.
Yet despite its location at the heart of the capital city, Tuti remained in its rural condition and was only recently included in the expanding urbanisation projects being undertaken around Khartoum. Its informal morphology and rural forms of livelihood were for many years in distinct contrast with downtown Khartoum, metres away, on the opposite bank of the river. However, new infrastructure sped up the process of urbanisation. The newly constructed Tuti Bridge offers the first, and only, direct road connection between the island and the rest of the city, a journey previously undertaken via barges and ferries. The bridge has inevitably had a big effect on the island’s residents offering them greater access to services and work opportunities and increasing the diversity of the island’s population. So far little is known about the effect the bridge has had on Tuti’s environment and social fabric or what role indigenous knowledge practices played in dealing with the new situation.
For the island’s inhabitants, The Nile is the very source of life with their livelihoods being primarily based on agriculture and fishing. The fertile soil on the island is utilized for the cultivation of a variety of vegetables and fruit and fishing creates a major source of income for many residents who rely on the river for their daily catch.
However, when the flooding season arrives, the Nile can also be the source of destruction. Khartoum’ first recorded major flood was in 1878 when the Blue Nile overflowed its banks, damaging homes and livelihoods. In 1946 another major flood in Khartoum resulted in extensive damage to buildings and infrastructure with floodwaters reaching six meters in height in some areas leaving thousands homeless. The 1988 floods in Khartoum were notorious and occurred following an extensive downpour over several days resulting in over 1,000 casualties and thousands of people being displaced. More recently, heavy rains in 2020 resulted in flooding in which nearly 1 million people were affected and in Khartoum alone, over 100 people were killed, with thousands displaced and resulting damages estimated to be worth USD 4.4 billion. Interestingly, even though Tuti was also flooded that year, no casualties were reported and only two houses were destroyed.
It is necessary to understand that flooding is not a natural disaster, it is man-made. The Nile has been flooding for thousands of years, while humans have only begun inhabiting these lands relatively recently. For plants to grow and animals to survive, a river needs to expand and ‘breathe’, the ecosystem in which we live relies on this, and it is therefore necessary for the river to flood. However, this ancient agreement of coexistence, based on the temporality of occupation and use of land by humans, is gradually being eroded and the demarcation line between people and river has, over time, become blurred. These recent inhabitants do not understand the river, all they know is the tame water flowing obediently through its channel and the chatting and laughter of friends sitting alongside it or for rituals they perform in it like dipping their newborns in the water for blessing. But a river will always come to claim its land! This is what the people of Tuti Island know and why they understand that you cannot fight flooding but instead you must learn how to live with it.
A story of agility
The way the residents of Tuti Island have adapted methods to counter flooding is quite remarkable. Their flood mitigation system is called Al-Taya meaning the place of gathering or the shelter. The famous flood of 1946 helped shape the Island’s flood mitigation culture with the story going back to 1944 when the British Governor at the time ordered the islanders to evict Tuti and annexed the land to be part of the property of the Gordon Memorial College. The islanders refused, and the order sparked conflict and distrust between the residents and colonizers. Subsequently, when flooding occurred in 1946, colonial authorities refused to provide the residents with tools or support to protect their homes and lands. As a result, the islanders mobilised among themselves to protect their island from the rising waters using their own bodies as a barricade for flood defence. The community solidarity that developed as a result of this act was the basis for what evolved into the Taya system as we know it today. This heightened sense of independence and connection to the island and its people is essentially how the system has developed together with the Sudanese tradition of collective action during times of crises. Even today, popular songs such as ajaboni alaila jo, or ‘how I admire those who came [to help]’, continue to mark this important event in 1946.
Part of the Taya system includes a network of different lookout points located around the island, managed by groups of people from various neighbourhoods and maintained by the womenfolk, to observe the river’s activity. They are linked by an alert mechanism which uses drums and the loudspeakers in mosques and everyone in the community, whether child or older person, man or woman knows how to barricade rising river waters if they have to. The Taya is managed by a head person assigned at the beginning of the flood season and the lookout position is rotated between a group of 7 people. The Taya system is upgraded annually with lookout locations changing regularly depending on changes in urban growth and flooding patterns. One key change has been the introduction of the flood mitigation committee for Tuti Island. The committee was established in 1988 and since then it became a recognised body by the government that manages all phases of flood management as well as all types of funding and assistance. The knowledge of the people of Tuti has not gone unrecognized and they were awarded champions of disaster risk reduction by the UN’s disaster risk reduction body, UNISDR.
What the future holds
The impact of future flooding is likely to be different because of several factors including climate projections which suggest that the intensity of precipitation is expected to increase in the future. Moreover, the ongoing war which erupted in mid-April 2023, and the direct siege the Islanders have had to endure since, has greatly affected the islanders response capacity. The war has also resulted in the displacement of a large number of the island’s residents which has a direct impact over the ability of islanders to protect themselves against floods. The collective knowledge with regards to flood defence, and the number of available responders, were the community’s most valuable assets. Thus, the current conflict puts practices based on traditional knowledge at great risk with potentially irreversible consequences. However, perhaps when the time comes, the lessons of resilience of the Tuti Islanders in the face of natural disasters, that are aggravated by man-made actions, is a story that will continue to be remembered and played out again.
Cover picture: Tuti Island 2017 © Zainab Gaafar
I remember when I was at university my friend suddenly cried, “oh, I’m really craving some silt from the river”. At the time, this sounded very strange to me as I was still discovering Sudan and the Sudanese because I was what’s known as ‘shahada Arabia’ - a Sudanese expatriate living in the Arabian Gulf. My knowledge of Sudan was still limited to my village, Ishkit, south of Village 13 in Kassala State and I wasn’t very familiar with Khartoum.
However, after what my friend said, I inadvertently began observing the people around me and tried to understand them and how they loved their country so much they even had a craving for its mud. I admired their deep connection to Sudan, and this feeling became the driving force behind the foundation of ‘Shorrti : Spirit of the place,’ a project which aims to introduce Sudanese people to Sudan and its cultural, environmental and ethnic diversity through events and cultural trips where we explore the different elements of this homeland, including music, heritage, and history.
Shorrti launched in 2016 and since then, we have organized over 54 events in Khartoum and other cities, and have visited over 30 villages and cities in 11 states. In every village or city we visited, more people joined our Shorrti community until eventually, we created our own small village that represented the entire Sudan and dissolved the boundaries of our home towns and cities. We became more connected to the different forms of heritage and to Sudan as a whole and every new person I meet, my understanding of the connection to this land deepens.
I remember that at one particular Shorrti event, I spoke with a man from the Jabal Marra region who told me about an old custom from the time of his ancestors, where they would plant a tree for every newborn and name it after the child. It was as if they were linking their children to the land, creating in them a sense of belonging and connection to their roots. I felt then that the Sudanese people not only love their land, but also carry a special connection to their predecessors buried there. This is reflected in our social and family structures, where we place great importance on the blessing and prayers of our elders. Through our journeys criss-crossing Sudan, I learned that most communities maintain a close connection to their forebears and always have a strong need to receive their blessings.
On our first trip to the Nuri area, specifically to the island of Tarag, there is a mosque and a number of shrines most notably built for the sons of Jaber who were among the first to be taught by Sheikh Ghulam al-Din bin Ayid, founder of the first khalwa in Dongola. However, what caught my attention was the shrine of a sheikh that did not have a dome and which was surrounded by a metal fence with palm fronds attached randomly. When I asked about the reason the fronds were tied there, our guide told me that those who wanted to marry would come here and tie their fronds to the fence and pray to God to grant their wish. This reminded me of the Lovers' Bridge in France where lovers attach padlocks as a symbol of their bond.
As we headed north, accompanied by the melodious sound of the Nile cascading over the sixth to the third cataract, we arrived in Tumbus and the site of 'Okji Nunondi,' a statue lying in the sand. We were told that the statue’s name translates into 'nobleman' or 'knight,' although a more literal translation would be ‘virile man’. This unidentified statue is not only a tourist attraction but has also been a symbol of hope and fertility for thousands of years and has been visited by countless men and women from the region hoping to enhance their fertility. As Sudanese we always turn to our heritage as a form of consolation when we feel despair or when our hearts are heavy with sorrow or grief.
At the site of Tumbus you will see carvings on the grey granite stones and it is said that this was the place of a quarry where most of the temple columns were cut before they were transported by boat along the Nile. It is believed that quarry activities began here in the 18th dynasty and that the statue of 'Okji Nunondi’ belongs to King Thutmose III and that the name Tumbus is a distortion of the pharaoh's name.
On our journey to the east of Sudan we visited Kassala city, situated at the heart of Jabal Totil. There we explored the mosque of Al-Sayid al-Hasan where I discovered small bundles of hair tucked into the cracks in the brickwork under the mosque’s windows. I learned that families would visit the mosque with locks of hair from the heads of their newborn children which they would tuck into the mosque’s walls accompanied by supplications for blessings from God. I realised then that even if they were married and had children the heart of devoted followers remained troubled with concerns for the wellbeing offspring.
The story of the founder of the mosque of Al-Sayid al-Hasan is truly remarkable and it is said that he is known as sheikh Abu Jalabiya after one of his miracles. The sheikh is said to have only possessed a single jalabiya which had always fitted him ever since he was a child and that this garment grew as he grew. It is said that the sheikh’s mother knew then that her son was no ordinary child as he was the son of Sayid Mohamed Osman al-Mirgani, the founder of the Khatmiya Sufi order in Sudan.
Through our voyages of discovery in Sudan we came to understand that the Sudanese find profound spiritual peace in their heritage. It connects them to their land and their ancestors, and provides them with strength and hope in their daily life. Every place we visit carries stories and traditions that make us appreciate this homeland more and feel grateful for its legacy that brings us together.
Cover and gallery pictures: The Mosque and Shrine of Elsayed Mohamed al-Hasan Abu Jalabiya, son of the founder of Khatmiyyah Sufi Order © Mohammed Osman, Kassala
I remember when I was at university my friend suddenly cried, “oh, I’m really craving some silt from the river”. At the time, this sounded very strange to me as I was still discovering Sudan and the Sudanese because I was what’s known as ‘shahada Arabia’ - a Sudanese expatriate living in the Arabian Gulf. My knowledge of Sudan was still limited to my village, Ishkit, south of Village 13 in Kassala State and I wasn’t very familiar with Khartoum.
However, after what my friend said, I inadvertently began observing the people around me and tried to understand them and how they loved their country so much they even had a craving for its mud. I admired their deep connection to Sudan, and this feeling became the driving force behind the foundation of ‘Shorrti : Spirit of the place,’ a project which aims to introduce Sudanese people to Sudan and its cultural, environmental and ethnic diversity through events and cultural trips where we explore the different elements of this homeland, including music, heritage, and history.
Shorrti launched in 2016 and since then, we have organized over 54 events in Khartoum and other cities, and have visited over 30 villages and cities in 11 states. In every village or city we visited, more people joined our Shorrti community until eventually, we created our own small village that represented the entire Sudan and dissolved the boundaries of our home towns and cities. We became more connected to the different forms of heritage and to Sudan as a whole and every new person I meet, my understanding of the connection to this land deepens.
I remember that at one particular Shorrti event, I spoke with a man from the Jabal Marra region who told me about an old custom from the time of his ancestors, where they would plant a tree for every newborn and name it after the child. It was as if they were linking their children to the land, creating in them a sense of belonging and connection to their roots. I felt then that the Sudanese people not only love their land, but also carry a special connection to their predecessors buried there. This is reflected in our social and family structures, where we place great importance on the blessing and prayers of our elders. Through our journeys criss-crossing Sudan, I learned that most communities maintain a close connection to their forebears and always have a strong need to receive their blessings.
On our first trip to the Nuri area, specifically to the island of Tarag, there is a mosque and a number of shrines most notably built for the sons of Jaber who were among the first to be taught by Sheikh Ghulam al-Din bin Ayid, founder of the first khalwa in Dongola. However, what caught my attention was the shrine of a sheikh that did not have a dome and which was surrounded by a metal fence with palm fronds attached randomly. When I asked about the reason the fronds were tied there, our guide told me that those who wanted to marry would come here and tie their fronds to the fence and pray to God to grant their wish. This reminded me of the Lovers' Bridge in France where lovers attach padlocks as a symbol of their bond.
As we headed north, accompanied by the melodious sound of the Nile cascading over the sixth to the third cataract, we arrived in Tumbus and the site of 'Okji Nunondi,' a statue lying in the sand. We were told that the statue’s name translates into 'nobleman' or 'knight,' although a more literal translation would be ‘virile man’. This unidentified statue is not only a tourist attraction but has also been a symbol of hope and fertility for thousands of years and has been visited by countless men and women from the region hoping to enhance their fertility. As Sudanese we always turn to our heritage as a form of consolation when we feel despair or when our hearts are heavy with sorrow or grief.
At the site of Tumbus you will see carvings on the grey granite stones and it is said that this was the place of a quarry where most of the temple columns were cut before they were transported by boat along the Nile. It is believed that quarry activities began here in the 18th dynasty and that the statue of 'Okji Nunondi’ belongs to King Thutmose III and that the name Tumbus is a distortion of the pharaoh's name.
On our journey to the east of Sudan we visited Kassala city, situated at the heart of Jabal Totil. There we explored the mosque of Al-Sayid al-Hasan where I discovered small bundles of hair tucked into the cracks in the brickwork under the mosque’s windows. I learned that families would visit the mosque with locks of hair from the heads of their newborn children which they would tuck into the mosque’s walls accompanied by supplications for blessings from God. I realised then that even if they were married and had children the heart of devoted followers remained troubled with concerns for the wellbeing offspring.
The story of the founder of the mosque of Al-Sayid al-Hasan is truly remarkable and it is said that he is known as sheikh Abu Jalabiya after one of his miracles. The sheikh is said to have only possessed a single jalabiya which had always fitted him ever since he was a child and that this garment grew as he grew. It is said that the sheikh’s mother knew then that her son was no ordinary child as he was the son of Sayid Mohamed Osman al-Mirgani, the founder of the Khatmiya Sufi order in Sudan.
Through our voyages of discovery in Sudan we came to understand that the Sudanese find profound spiritual peace in their heritage. It connects them to their land and their ancestors, and provides them with strength and hope in their daily life. Every place we visit carries stories and traditions that make us appreciate this homeland more and feel grateful for its legacy that brings us together.
Cover and gallery pictures: The Mosque and Shrine of Elsayed Mohamed al-Hasan Abu Jalabiya, son of the founder of Khatmiyyah Sufi Order © Mohammed Osman, Kassala
I remember when I was at university my friend suddenly cried, “oh, I’m really craving some silt from the river”. At the time, this sounded very strange to me as I was still discovering Sudan and the Sudanese because I was what’s known as ‘shahada Arabia’ - a Sudanese expatriate living in the Arabian Gulf. My knowledge of Sudan was still limited to my village, Ishkit, south of Village 13 in Kassala State and I wasn’t very familiar with Khartoum.
However, after what my friend said, I inadvertently began observing the people around me and tried to understand them and how they loved their country so much they even had a craving for its mud. I admired their deep connection to Sudan, and this feeling became the driving force behind the foundation of ‘Shorrti : Spirit of the place,’ a project which aims to introduce Sudanese people to Sudan and its cultural, environmental and ethnic diversity through events and cultural trips where we explore the different elements of this homeland, including music, heritage, and history.
Shorrti launched in 2016 and since then, we have organized over 54 events in Khartoum and other cities, and have visited over 30 villages and cities in 11 states. In every village or city we visited, more people joined our Shorrti community until eventually, we created our own small village that represented the entire Sudan and dissolved the boundaries of our home towns and cities. We became more connected to the different forms of heritage and to Sudan as a whole and every new person I meet, my understanding of the connection to this land deepens.
I remember that at one particular Shorrti event, I spoke with a man from the Jabal Marra region who told me about an old custom from the time of his ancestors, where they would plant a tree for every newborn and name it after the child. It was as if they were linking their children to the land, creating in them a sense of belonging and connection to their roots. I felt then that the Sudanese people not only love their land, but also carry a special connection to their predecessors buried there. This is reflected in our social and family structures, where we place great importance on the blessing and prayers of our elders. Through our journeys criss-crossing Sudan, I learned that most communities maintain a close connection to their forebears and always have a strong need to receive their blessings.
On our first trip to the Nuri area, specifically to the island of Tarag, there is a mosque and a number of shrines most notably built for the sons of Jaber who were among the first to be taught by Sheikh Ghulam al-Din bin Ayid, founder of the first khalwa in Dongola. However, what caught my attention was the shrine of a sheikh that did not have a dome and which was surrounded by a metal fence with palm fronds attached randomly. When I asked about the reason the fronds were tied there, our guide told me that those who wanted to marry would come here and tie their fronds to the fence and pray to God to grant their wish. This reminded me of the Lovers' Bridge in France where lovers attach padlocks as a symbol of their bond.
As we headed north, accompanied by the melodious sound of the Nile cascading over the sixth to the third cataract, we arrived in Tumbus and the site of 'Okji Nunondi,' a statue lying in the sand. We were told that the statue’s name translates into 'nobleman' or 'knight,' although a more literal translation would be ‘virile man’. This unidentified statue is not only a tourist attraction but has also been a symbol of hope and fertility for thousands of years and has been visited by countless men and women from the region hoping to enhance their fertility. As Sudanese we always turn to our heritage as a form of consolation when we feel despair or when our hearts are heavy with sorrow or grief.
At the site of Tumbus you will see carvings on the grey granite stones and it is said that this was the place of a quarry where most of the temple columns were cut before they were transported by boat along the Nile. It is believed that quarry activities began here in the 18th dynasty and that the statue of 'Okji Nunondi’ belongs to King Thutmose III and that the name Tumbus is a distortion of the pharaoh's name.
On our journey to the east of Sudan we visited Kassala city, situated at the heart of Jabal Totil. There we explored the mosque of Al-Sayid al-Hasan where I discovered small bundles of hair tucked into the cracks in the brickwork under the mosque’s windows. I learned that families would visit the mosque with locks of hair from the heads of their newborn children which they would tuck into the mosque’s walls accompanied by supplications for blessings from God. I realised then that even if they were married and had children the heart of devoted followers remained troubled with concerns for the wellbeing offspring.
The story of the founder of the mosque of Al-Sayid al-Hasan is truly remarkable and it is said that he is known as sheikh Abu Jalabiya after one of his miracles. The sheikh is said to have only possessed a single jalabiya which had always fitted him ever since he was a child and that this garment grew as he grew. It is said that the sheikh’s mother knew then that her son was no ordinary child as he was the son of Sayid Mohamed Osman al-Mirgani, the founder of the Khatmiya Sufi order in Sudan.
Through our voyages of discovery in Sudan we came to understand that the Sudanese find profound spiritual peace in their heritage. It connects them to their land and their ancestors, and provides them with strength and hope in their daily life. Every place we visit carries stories and traditions that make us appreciate this homeland more and feel grateful for its legacy that brings us together.
Cover and gallery pictures: The Mosque and Shrine of Elsayed Mohamed al-Hasan Abu Jalabiya, son of the founder of Khatmiyyah Sufi Order © Mohammed Osman, Kassala