Opinion

The Ominous Stray… Between the Fangs of Dogs and the Guns of Militias

As I See

Adel El-Baz

1

What’s the story?
The story takes place in a village in North Darfur called Um Jerhman. In one of its militia outposts, a man named Khamis Mohamed Ahmed, the commander of that outpost, issued an order: kill every stray and “suspicious” dog in the area—or face a fine of one billion Sudanese pounds, and the dog will still be killed.

This commander’s post caught my attention for several reasons. First, the phrase “stray and suspicious” dogs suggests animals without owners, roaming the streets aimlessly and frightening residents. That much makes sense. But the order didn’t stop there—it also demanded that people kill their own dogs. What do citizens’ own pets have to do with “stray and suspicious” dogs? There’s a difference between owned dogs, stray dogs, and, as we’ll see, mercenary dogs.

2

The second point:
What strikes me is that the militia hasn’t yet finished its primary task—killing people of all kinds, colors, and faiths. That work is still ongoing. So why divert resources now to hunt stray dogs? True, they’ve told residents to kill the dogs themselves using their ammunition or spears, but if they don’t, the militia will take care of it.

But the militia still has a surplus of human targets. After all, they’ve killed over 150,000 people so far, yet millions remain in the country, many trapped in towns and villages under siege. Why rush to deal with stray dogs when they could continue exterminating humans, as they did in Um Sumaymah just days ago?

3

Why target the strays?
Perhaps because these dogs sometimes attack people in their homes or on the streets—though they can’t loot or steal anything beyond leftover food. So the worst they can do is scare some residents.

Now tell me, my friend, what has the militia been doing for the past two years? Have they not committed far more horrifying acts than any stray dog could imagine? Which is more deserving of destruction: the militia or the stray dogs of Um Jerhman?

No pack of dogs could massacre the way the militia did in Geneina, Wad al-Noora, or the Zamzam camp near El Fasher. But a single “technical” armed with a DShK can flatten an entire village—and they’ve done it, killing civilians, pets, and strays alike before looting and leaving.

So, who is truly more “stray” and “suspicious”—the militia or the dogs of Um Jerhman? Which is worse: barking and biting, or slaughtering people under the pretext of “fighting rebels”? And if the fine for a “stray and suspicious” dog is one billion pounds, what’s the penalty for those who have murdered, looted, raped, and pillaged?

4

Where did these dogs come from?
The people of Um Jerhman know their own dogs—loyal animals that guard sheep and help in hunting. They are neither stray nor suspicious. So where did these “stray and suspicious” dogs come from?

Surely, they must be “mercenary dogs,” brought in by international dog dealers—just as Colombian mercenaries were brought to their deaths near El Fasher. The Colombians were no less “stray and suspicious,” but at least people knew who brought them in. No one knows who imported these canine mercenaries to Um Jerhman.

In fact, such “stray mercenary dogs” didn’t just appear in Um Jerhman—they’ve been around since the start of the war in Khartoum, preying on the state and its citizens. Back then, militias controlling the capital didn’t kill or even shoo them away—instead, they opened the city’s gates and let them feast.

5

And if the strays attacked?
If these “suspicious strays” gathered at Um Jerhman’s outskirts and charged in, the most they could do is bark, bite, or frighten people. Meanwhile, militias for the past two years haven’t just barked and bitten—they’ve killed and annihilated entire ethnic groups, like the Masalit in the west and the people of Wad al-Noora in the center.

So again, who is truly more dangerous—the militias or the dogs?

6

And what about the political “dogs”?
Why doesn’t the outpost commander also deal with the “stray and suspicious” political parties that bark at their own homeland day and night, tearing at its flesh? Why not ask the militia leader beside him to silence them? The truth is, the militia chief enjoys their barking—it drowns out the cries of victims across the country. That’s why these “stray barking parties” are never fined or punished. In fact, they are rewarded with millions so they can feed off that instead of scavenging scraps from the streets.

7

The bitter irony
The militia orders the killing of Um Jerhman’s “stray suspicious” dogs—while importing thousands of “stray suspicious mercenary dogs” to kill people in Omdurman, El Fasher, and Kordofan.

If justice truly had a hand here, it would first apprehend those importing “stray suspicious” killers from overseas to slaughter humans and destroy towns—before chasing down harmless village dogs whose only crime is barking and wandering.

But in wartime, the scales are upside down: barking becomes a crime, and killing is “justice” applauded by those eager to justify it.

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Check Also
Close
Back to top button