Kaya Nadesan | International Network on Explosive Weapons (INEW)
When fighting broke out in Khartoum, Sudan on April 15, 2023, the Sudanese Armed Forces and the Rapid Support Forces fired bombs, rockets and artillery fire into one of the most densely populated cities on the continent. Amongst the civilians affected were Reem Abbas and her family, who have called Khartoum their home for over 200 years.
On the morning of April 15, she woke up to the roaring sounds of heavy ammunition a few kilometres away from their family home. She recalls hearing and seeing fighter planes flying closely to their homes, with the feeling of fear being more prominent than anything else. When their family eventually ventured outside, she remembers crawling underneath the supermarket doors to buy groceries because the owner was too scared to open them. Day by day, their neighbourhood grew unfamiliar as members of their community fled overnight to find safety elsewhere. As the fighting grew consistent, the sound of drones and explosives eventually became familiar and even strangely comforting to her; the firing of explosive weapons artillery and the buzz of jets were indicators that harm was not directly outside. And stood in contrast to the infamous silence that comes before your house is shelled.
“When a war happens, you are erased – from your city, from your home. All of a sudden you don’t belong and it’s not your home anymore.”
One night she heard what sounded like a large bomb fall nearby. Their home began to shake, the structures and buildings around them were shaking and she remembers her 4-year old daughter also shaking as she fell asleep in terror. A few days later they discovered the cause of the tremor – a block of offices near their home had been destroyed by bombing. Shortly after, family property constructed for 15 years as part of her parent’s retirement plan was also hit and destroyed by an airstrike. The fighting moved deeper and deeper into populated civilian areas, and even into houses as military bases were established inside of and on top of civilian homes.
Reem recalls reading reports from the Sudanese Heritage Protection Initiative showing that 104 educational institutions, several mosques and old churches, museums and antiquities were amongst the cultural heritage sites attacked and damaged. She felt as though Sudan’s heritage and cultural infrastructure was slowly being buried under the rubble. Reem also recounts the damage to local factories which produced food items that were commonplace in Sudanese households, such as tomato paste and lentils. The damage to factories meant food had to be imported into Sudan resulting in significantly higher prices, often rendering them unaffordable for most families. The Khartoum she knew was slipping away from her.
“In order to rebuild what has been lost, we need decades.”
When explosive weapons are used in towns, cities and other populated areas, it is always civilians who suffer most. Data shows that on average 90% of the victims are civilians. The last century has seen warfare move away from battlefields and into cities, refugee camps and villages, leading to disastrous, widespread harm to civilians and to the vital infrastructure they depend on – homes, electricity, sanitation systems, hospitals, schools, shops and water supplies.
Reem began to think differently about their family house. They were surrounded by buildings on three sides, and exposed to an empty plot of land on the remaining side. She began to mark each room as either safe or unsafe, deeming her room the safest in the event of an airstrike or bombing. She worried that their beds were too low for her daughter to hide under, and that the numerous windows which once brought in generous amounts of light were now opportunities for shells and munitions to invade.
After 6 weeks of fleeing from one city to another on unending bus journeys, Reem and her family fled to Cairo in search of asylum. She remembers her daughter, 4-years old at the time, asking on one of their journeys “are we homeless now?”. The reality of the instability and insecurity from explosive weapons in populated areas confronted Reem. She and her family dream of returning to Sudan but are unsure what remains of their house. As of October 1, 2024, 10.9 million people have been displaced since April 15, 2023, including 8.1 million people displaced within Sudan and another 2.2 million who have crossed into neighbouring countries, making this the largest displacement crisis in the world, according to UN OCHA.
“I can’t imagine myself living anywhere but Sudan, but when we return, we will go back to the unknown, we will be strangers in our own homes.”
According to Explosive Weapon’s Monitor 2023 report, Sudan was listed as one of the nine countries and territories where civilians were heavily impacted by the use of explosive weapons that experienced harm across all reported areas (casualties, healthcare, education and aid access). Beyond Sudan, we are seeing alarmingly high levels of explosive weapon use, including in Gaza and Ukraine, amongst other contexts like Yemen and Myanmar.
The need to prioritise the protection of civilians is now more important than ever. The Political Declaration can be a tool to better protect civilians in armed conflict, including by placing limits on their use and better understanding how to prevent the effects that stem from damage and destruction to infrastructure. Action from states on endorsing and implementing the Political Declaration are essential, especially in this time, to strengthen the protection of civilians from the impact of armed conflict and explosive weapons in populated areas.
Reem Abbas is a feminist activist and writer. She is now the Communications Coordinator for the Mobilising Men for Feminist Peace (MMFP) Initiative at the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom (WILPF). She is the co-author of (Un)doing Resistance: Authoritarianism and Attacks on the Arts in Sudan’s 30 Years of Islamist Rule, with Ruba El Melik.