For decades, Sudan has stood at the intersection of hope and heartbreak—a nation whose vast landscapes and diverse peoples have endured endless cycles of conflict, displacement, and resilience. The most recent tragedy to grip the country is the fall of El Fasher, a city in North Darfur, to the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in late October 2025. The humanitarian consequences have been staggering, with international aid workers and local activists describing scenes of devastation that have left the world reeling.
According to TIME, the aftermath of El Fasher’s takeover was marked by the arrival of hundreds of unaccompanied children in Tawila, a once-small village now transformed into a sprawling refuge for nearly half a million displaced people. Estimates from aid organizations such as Save the Children and MedGlobal put the number of unaccompanied minors between 450 and 800, with many more children arriving with only fragments of their families. The stories of separation are harrowing: “We spoke to a small girl of 13 years old who was carrying a five-month-old baby, and she had no clue where her mother, her four brothers, her older sister were, because they had been separated,” recounted Arjan Hehenkamp, Darfur crisis lead for the International Rescue Committee.
These children’s journeys were fraught with danger. The road from El Fasher to Tawila was littered with risks—kidnappings, killings, extortion, and the constant threat of armed groups. Many fled under cover of darkness, some sent away by desperate families who could only afford to save their youngest. Hunger stalked them at every step. The Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC) officially declared famine conditions in El Fasher on November 3, but as Aman Alawad, country director for MedGlobal, explained, “Most people are very weak,” especially the children, who arrived emaciated and traumatized. In conflict zones like Sudan, such declarations often come late, as gathering the necessary data is perilous and hampered by restricted humanitarian access.
Women arriving in Tawila told Francesco Lanino, Deputy Country Director of Programming with Save the Children Sudan, that they picked up lost children along the way—some found wandering the chaos of El Fasher’s streets, others in the dangerous no-man’s land between the city and their new refuge. “Now they are part of my family,” one woman explained. Lanino suspects the number of unaccompanied children may be even higher than reported, as younger children taken in by other families often go unregistered. Family tracing—trying to reunite children with relatives—has become a central focus for aid groups, but the sheer scale of displacement complicates every effort.
The humanitarian situation in Tawila is dire. Aid agencies report they can only meet about 50% of basic needs, including water and shelter, for the swelling population. The United Nations migration agency has warned that relief efforts in North Darfur could grind to a halt without immediate funding and secure delivery routes. Disease has taken hold: by the end of October, Sudan had recorded 120,000 suspected cholera cases and more than 3,000 deaths, with children in Tawila particularly at risk, according to UNICEF. Malaria, too, has spread rapidly. “They need access to drugs, to education. They need access to mosquito nets or any other hygiene kits,” Lanino emphasized. The trauma is not only physical. Many children have lost relatives, suffered violence, and witnessed atrocities—leaving deep psychological scars and uncertain futures.
“What will be of my children one day?” one mother asked Lanino’s team. “Will they try to take revenge for their relatives that were killed? What will be their future?” Such questions haunt the survivors and those working to help them, highlighting the generational impact of Sudan’s ongoing conflict.
The roots of this crisis run deep. As allAfrica reports, Sudan’s history has been shaped by colonial rule, Cold War rivalries, and decades of authoritarianism. From 1899, the country was governed under an Anglo-Egyptian pact, only to gain independence in 1956 and immediately become a pawn in the global struggle between the United States and Russia. By the 1980s, Sudan was the largest recipient of U.S. military aid in sub-Saharan Africa. Omar al-Bashir’s three-decade rule, marked by war crimes and brutal repression, ended in 2019 after a wave of creative, non-violent resistance. Yet hopes for democracy were dashed as rival militaries, supported by foreign interests, plunged the country back into violence.
Despite these grim realities, Sudan’s civil society has shown remarkable courage. Grassroots groups, known as Emergency Response Rooms, have stepped in where state institutions have collapsed, providing food, water, medical supplies, and even maintaining power and water systems. These organizations, made up of teachers, doctors, scholars, and farmers, have become lifelines for communities abandoned by official structures. Their efforts were recognized in November 2025 when a UK group awarded them the Chatham House Prize, praising their ability to “step in where state structures have broken down.” Although their campaign for the Nobel Peace Prize fell short, the recognition underscores their indispensable role.
The international community is slowly taking notice. On November 25, 2025, Members of the European Parliament (MEPs) held an urgent debate in Strasbourg, focusing on the escalating war and humanitarian catastrophe in Sudan. According to EU Reporter, MEP Arkadiusz Mularczyk warned that “Sudan is facing one of the most serious humanitarian crises of the last decades. Paramilitary groups are killing thousands of civilians, while drought and hunger intensify the suffering. They desperately need aid.” He stressed that the crisis threatens not only Sudan but the stability of Africa and Europe as well, as waves of refugees seek safety beyond the continent’s borders.
Hadja Lahbib, the EU’s acting commissioner for crisis management, described the situation in Darfur and Kordofan as “particularly shocking,” citing “horrific attacks on civilians by the Rapid Support Forces during their capture of El Fasher and Bara last month.” She detailed how “thousands of civilians in El Fasher [were] killed on ethnic grounds in house-to-house raids; mass detentions; people unable to leave the city; men separated, tortured, and killed; women and girls facing sexual- and gender-based violence; even community kitchen workers targeted and killed.” Lahbib called for “safe, full, and unhindered access for humanitarian organizations” and noted that the EU had allocated €273.3 million to the Sudan crisis in 2025, with €161 million directed to Sudan alone, including a €1 million emergency allocation for those fleeing El Fasher.
As the European Parliament prepares to vote on a resolution addressing Sudan’s crisis, international attention is finally converging on a tragedy too long ignored. Yet, as history has shown, the real hope for Sudan lies not in distant capitals, but in the courage of its people—those who, despite unimaginable loss, continue to organize, resist, and care for one another amid the ruins.
