"I'm trapped in the war"

Sudanese are desperately trying to leave their country. But many are trapped because their passports are stuck in one of the closed European embassies. It's a hopeless situation.

Sudanese are desperately trying to leave their country. But many, like Mahir Elfiel, are trapped because their passports are stuck in one of the closed European embassies. Here he talks about his hopeless situation. Andrea Backhaus recorded his story

By Andrea Backhaus

The Sudanese army under Abdel Fattah al-Burhan and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) under Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo have been engaged in fierce fighting for four weeks. As the power struggle between the two generals drags on, many people are trying to flee the violence. According to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), more than 700.000 people are displaced within the country. More than 170.000 people have fled the country, 67.000 of them to neighbouring Egypt.

Western countries like Germany, Great Britain and the U.S. have evacuated their citizens from Sudan, closing their embassies in Khartoum. With dramatic consequences: hundreds, if not thousands, of passports belonging to Sudanese who had applied for visas before the war are now stuck in the deserted embassies. Without their passports, people cannot leave the conflict zone.

This is the situation Mahir Elfiel finds himself in. The 40-year-old is a programme manager with an international organisation. At the end of April, Elfiel left his hometown of Omdurman near Khartoum, which has seen some of the fiercest fighting, to flee across the border into Egypt.

But because his passport remains stuck in the Spanish embassy, he is trapped in Wadi Halfa, a small town about 900 kilometres north of Khartoum on the Egyptian border. Like Elfiel, thousands are waiting there to continue their journey. We reached Elfiel via WhatsApp. Here he speaks about his dramatic escape – and why he feels abandoned by the European authorities.

“The situation in and around Khartoum is very difficult. After the fighting started, I could hear gunfire in my neighbourhood and see fighter jets targeting houses. I holed up at home. I had no water or electricity for days and the fighting was getting closer and closer. My neighbourhood is near the military hospital, which was being targeted by the RSF. I heard from acquaintances from other neighbourhoods that the fighters had started looting houses and shops and driving civilians out of their homes, which scared me.

Sudanese programme manager Mabir Elfiel (image: private) — Abandoned: because Mabir Elfiel's passport is in the Spanish embassy, he is stuck in Wadi Halfa, a small town some 900 kilometres north of Khartoum on the Egyptian border. Like Elfiel, thousands are waiting there to continue their journey. For Qantara.de, he reports on his escape – and why he feels abandoned by the European authorities

Many of my relatives and neighbours fled as soon as the fighting began. I'm single and felt pretty lonely after that. It's a tough decision to leave everything behind and head into uncertainty with just a suitcase in hand.

But I also knew that I wouldn't be able to find enough food and drink for much longer. So, I decided to flee, despite being unsure as to whether this was a good idea.

Passport in the Spanish embassy

I had applied for a visa at the Spanish embassy in Khartoum before the war broke out because I wanted to travel to Spain.

Then the embassy was closed because of the fighting, the staff were taken out of the country. I didn't get my passport back.

I had to make a decision: I could either stay in the middle of a combat zone all by myself, or I could flee in the hope that I could get to safety without a passport. I chose the latter.

To get to the Egyptian border, I needed cash. That was a problem because my money is in my bank account. The ATMs in the city don't work anymore, I couldn't withdraw anything. I have an app on my phone that I use to access my bank account, transfer money, or pay my utility bills.

But that's no good to me right now. Since the fighting started the price of everything has shot up and people will only accept cash. Luckily, I found a bus driver who was willing to sell me a ticket, even though I could only pay for it by bank transfer.

Waiting in Wadi Halfa

The bus ticket cost the equivalent of 600 U.S. dollars [around 550 Euros, editor's note], more than three times the normal price. On the long drive up north, I was lucky again: a petrol station employee agreed to pay me an amount in cash that I had transferred to him from my account, so at least I had some cash in my pocket.

I took the bus to Wadi Halfa. Arriving there was difficult. There is an Egyptian consulate in Wadi Halfa, and thousands of people had arrived to apply for Egyptian visas. The city was overflowing with people, most of whom had fled Khartoum. The hotels were fully booked, many people were sleeping outside.

People waiting in front of the Egyptian consulate in Wadi Halfa (photo: private) — Wadi Halfa, ill-equipped to cope with the influx: "Thousands of people have arrived to apply for Egyptian visas. The place is overflowing with people, most of whom have fled Khartoum. The hotels are fully booked, many people sleep outside. Everything is very expensive, and the small town is not made for so many people. There is not enough shelter and food. The water supply has collapsed, the mobile network is overloaded. But at least I'm safe here. When I woke up after my first night, I was relieved not to hear any bombs"

I found a place to sleep my first night in a school that had been converted into a camp for displaced people. The following night I slept in a mosque. In the meantime, I have found a room that I can rent for the time being.

Everything is very expensive, and the small town is not made for so many people. There is not enough shelter and food. The water supply has collapsed, the mobile network is overloaded. But at least I'm safe here. When I woke up after my first night, I was relieved not to hear any bombs.

I immediately inquired how to apply for a visa. At the Egyptian consulate I was told that there were more than 3000 passports registered on the visa waiting list.

The Egyptian authorities have eased entry for some groups of people. Women can cross the border without a visa, as can boys up to the age of 16 and men over 50. Men my age need a visa.

The Sudanese authorities issued me an emergency document, for which a copy of my passport was sufficient. But the Egyptians didn't let me through with it. When I showed my document to the Egyptian official, he asked for my passport. I explained to him that the passport was stuck in the Spanish embassy in Khartoum and because of the war there was no way for me to get it back.

'Next, please'

He said: 'Then we cannot issue you a visa.' I tried to explain to him that my organisation has an office in Cairo and that I could work there. But the officer didn't even listen to me. He just said: 'We can't issue you with a visa, thank you, next please.'

When the fighting in Khartoum started, I thought this will all pass quickly, things will get back to normal soon. But when I heard that the foreign embassies were evacuating their staff, I realised that was wishful thinking. I immediately contacted the Spanish embassy to find out what the staff would do with my passport. I kept calling but couldn't reach anyone. I have sent dozens of emails to the embassy, but I've heard nothing.

Rumours are circulating that some embassy staff destroyed documents still on their premises prior to their evacuation. I have no idea whether my passport still exists. Many Sudanese who applied for a visa before the war to go to Sweden, the Netherlands or Spain are in a similar situation. The European authorities are taking no responsibility. Rather than responding to our requests, they are simply ignoring us. It would have been possible to return the passports.

Staff at the Chinese embassy contacted applicants and returned their documents to them before leaving Khartoum. The Spanish authorities say that there is nothing they can do and that we should apply for new passports from the Sudanese authorities. As if in this chaos anyone is issuing passports! I am angry and frustrated. I'm stuck in a war zone with no way out.

Freedom of movement is a human right and the Spanish authorities are denying me that. They got their own employees and citizens to safety and left us behind. It's disgusting and humiliating.

'I can't go back'

In the past few days, I have tried everything to get to Egypt. I contacted acquaintances in Cairo, talked to Egyptian officials; I even contacted the Egyptian ambassador. He says he can't do anything. The Sudanese authorities in Wadi Halfa say they are trying to find a solution with the Egyptians for people like me, but to no avail. I'm trapped in the war. I can't go back.

Sudanese refugees in front of a UNHCR building in South Sudan (image: Jok Solomi/Reuters) — Sudanese refugees wait outside a UNHCR building in South Sudan. So is South Sudan an option? "I heard today that South Sudan is allowing Sudanese refugees to enter without a passport," says Mahir Elfiel. "I must check if that's true. I am here in the very north of Sudan and it’s a very long way to the southern border. But if it is true, I'll take the risk and try to cross that border. And wait for the madness in my country to end"

The news I get from acquaintances in Khartoum is grim. They say fighting has escalated, fighters have been looting house after house, many parts of the city have no electricity or water and food is running out. Anyone still in Khartoum is risking everything.

I think about what's going to happen to me all the time. I'm living off my savings, but what am I going to do when they run out? Sometimes I think I hear gunshots. The violence I witnessed haunts me even here in Wadi Halfa. I'm going to need professional help to be able to process all of this. But before I can take care of my mental health, I need to know what's next. The future scares me.

I heard today that South Sudan is allowing Sudanese refugees to enter without a passport. I must check if that's true. I am here in the very north of Sudan and it’s a very long way to the southern border. But if it is true, I'll take the risk and try to cross that border. And wait for the madness in my country to end."

Recorded by Andrea Backhaus