War requires unconvential strategies

Even before the current war started in April 2023, the Sudanese people had been struggling economically. Decades of mismanagement, armed conflicts, and over 25 years of sanctions led to ever-soaring prices, decrepit infrastructure, and scarce opportunities. As a result, the living standards of the average Sudanese citizen had been in steady decline. 

The current conflict, however, made the hardship they face even worse; it caused mass displacement of the population, shrinking the workforce, and damaged critical industrial and agricultural infrastructure. Public spending has shifted to prioritize the ongoing military operations instead of social services such as healthcare and education. 

The war has also created a wide-scale war economy: Essential goods such as fuel are smuggled inside the country, with convoys forced to pay tolls for safe passage or hire armed groups for protection. Meanwhile, agricultural produce is often looted across farming communities, cash is scarce, and local markets have been caught in the crossfire or deliberately attacked.

Policies undertaken by both warring parties have compounded the struggle of the Sudanese people. These include the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) restricting exports of 12 goods that flow through Sudanese Armed Forces’ (SAF) controlled areas to Egypt, causing prices to drop, leaving producers unable to cover production costs. Meanwhile, the Central Bank of Sudan, controlled by SAF, changed the Sudanese banknotes and prohibited the use of the new version in RSF-controlled areas, economically isolating large segments of the population. 

These factors, among many others, have made earning a living in Sudan the past two years extremely difficult, and oftentimes dangerous. Despite these immense challenges, millions of people continue to show remarkable resilience and determination to survive and support their families and their communities. This article attempts to capture a glimpse of their struggle.

TV screens and fuel

Before the war, Adam Musa*, a 22-year-old trader, used to sell small appliances and TV screens from a small shop in the central market in his hometown in North Darfur. His suppliers were smugglers who maneuver the desert to bring goods from across the Libyan border. But after the war started, the overflow of stolen goods from the capital Khartoum squeezed Adam’s business, and it wasn’t long before he pivoted to a commodity for which there is higher demand: fuel. 

Since the war started, the five diesel-fired power stations that provide an average of six hours per day in the Darfur region gradually went out of service. This increased demand for diesel fuel to operate the private generators that provide power for domestic use, public services like hospitals, as well as satellite internet services. The ongoing war is also intensifying demand, as the RSF, SAF, and militias consume large quantities of fuel. 

Adam now uses his truck to cross the desert to the nearest towns across the Libyan border to bring fuel supplied by armed groups on the Libyan side. During these trips, he sometimes drives northward toward the SAF-controlled trade hub Al-Dabbah to exchange fuel for other essential goods, or east toward RSF-controlled areas in North Kordofan.

Along the way, Adam pays armed men in all shades of khaki; depending on the route he follows, he could come across RSF, SAF, or local militias who would ask for checkpoint taxation or confiscate the fuel in some cases. When needed, he would also pay armed escorts to help him navigate the desert. What remains after these payments is what he takes home.

Breaking the siege

Since May 2024, the RSF has been laying siege to El-Fasher, the capital of North Darfur, choking trade routes and humanitarian support into the city. This created a severe shortage of food and essential supplies, and many are facing starvation: over 60 people reportedly died of starvation in El-Fasher in just one week. With men often fighting, missing, or at greater risk of detention, women like Kaltum Ishag* have taken on roles once considered too dangerous, in order to survive.

Kaltum is no stranger to trade. She grew up in a semi-nomadic, pastoralist community that lived in a village south of El-Fasher. Her family regularly participated in local weekly markets where they sold dairy products and bought household necessities. In 2004, after waves of attacks on villages across Darfur, Kaltum moved to Zamzam Camp in El-Fasher, where she still lives with her aging mother and six young children.

Driven by the severe deterioration of living conditions, and the urgent need to provide for their families with the growing risk of famine, Kaltum, along with other women, have been making secret trips on donkeys in and out of the besieged city to nearby villages to buy food. They take significant risks as they navigate deserted roads, relying on knowledge from their pastoralist upbringing. Kaltum usually brings ingredients to make balila adasiya, made of boiled red cowpeas. It is relatively cheap, filling, and requires little preparation, making it ideal during times of extreme scarcity.

To buy the goods, Kultum needs cash, which has become hard to access over the past two years. For many, mobile money serves as the main channel to receive financial support from relatives both within Sudan and abroad. In El-Fasher, people exchange mobile money for cash at exorbitant rates, often losing up to 50 percent in the process, but Kaltum has no choice: suppliers only accept cash, and without it, she cannot trade.

Beyond the constant risk of being caught or having her goods looted, Kaltum also fears getting lost, as she and others are forced to use remote, rarely traveled routes. “I can’t sleep the night before I travel,” Kaltum said. “But if I don’t go, my children don’t eat.” What she manages to smuggle on her donkey doesn’t only feed her family, but has become a lifeline for her neighbors too. She knows that every journey she makes could be her last. Still, she presses on.

Since the conversation with Kaltum, the situation in El-Fasher dramatically deteriorated, with reports indicating that the main source of food for many families has become what is locally known as ambaz, which is made of peanut shells, usually used as animal fodder.

From livestock to Starlink

Ahmed El-Tom*, a trader in his 40s, had to look for alternative ways to make a living when his trade in livestock, agricultural products, and cross-border commerce with South Sudan was disrupted. Over the past two years, challenges such as trade embargoes, attacks on markets, and Central Bank restrictions have severely undermined these activities. Additionally, numerous checkpoints along trade routes, often controlled by local militias who demand payments for passage, have made his business not worth the effort.

Ahmed saw an opportunity in providing internet service for residents in his city of El-Daein, the capital of East Darfur State, which had been under the control of the RSF since November 2023. Like many areas across Sudan, the city has been deliberately cut from the national telecommunication network, forcing residents to rely on Starlink for communication and mobile money transactions. This prompted Ahmed to borrow money from his brother who lives in the United Kingdom and invest in a Starlink Satellite internet device. These devices are usually smuggled into Sudan via Libya, Chad, or South Sudan.

Ahmed purchased his device from Dubai via Juba in South Sudan, where it costs $295 per month for a standard plan, plus a one-time hardware cost of $2,500. In El-Daein, every month, Starlink devices owners pay the RSF a fee for operating the device, which in some areas of the state have reached 50,000 SDG (about $20). Ahmed charges 1,000 SDG ($0.004 cents) for one Gigabyte, on a good business day. When he is lucky enough to get a good number of users for a long period of time, he manages to pay for his daily needs and maybe save a dollar or two in hopes to repay his brother one day. 

Demand for solar

An image depicting seven goats sheltering under solar panels with the caption “benefits of solar power” was widely circulated by Sudanese social media users. Even though the image later turned out not to be from Sudan, it resonated with many where solar power has proven to be a vital lifeline for many households.

Mosab Anwar*, 32, returned to Port Sudan after leaving the country in the early months of the war, hoping to use his knowledge of solar power to start a business. Though Sudan already suffered from chronic electricity problems before the war, the conflict only worsened the situation, with continuous drone attacks targeting and destroying the country’s power infrastructure including the energy systems that power water stations, residential areas, and various vital sectors. As a result, the demand for alternative energy systems—including solar panels, batteries, and inverters—rose along with their prices. 

Many new suppliers have entered the market, flooding it with low quality equipment that breaks down, causing major losses for consumers, explains Mosab. In November 2024, the government announced a custom duty exemption of solar equipment used in agriculture, but the decision is yet to be implemented. That, in addition to the return of displaced people to Khartoum after its recapture by SAF, promises more growth in the market according to Mosab.

Beyond resilience

Despite the immense challenges of living in a war zone, the stories of Adam, Kaltum, Ahmed, and Mosab demonstrate that many in Sudan have not merely survived; they have proven their remarkable ability to adapt and create economic value in the most unconventional ways. Doing so, they try to compensate for the vacuum caused by the institutional collapse and the economic havoc created by war. 

However, more sustainable long-term solutions are direly needed, which require the involvement of institutional actors within Sudan and the international community to ensure security, provide resources, and support the provision of essential public goods. Without such support, informal systems will continue to dominate, enriching armed actors and deepening the misery inflicted by the war.

* Names were changed to protect the individuals interviewed for this article. 

This article was originally published by The Tahrir Institute for Middle East Policy.