Security and Services: Drivers of Voluntary Return
By Abdelmalik Al-Naeem Ahmed
I deliberately chose the word drivers rather than conditions for voluntary return, when discussing the situation of Sudanese citizens who fled abroad to neighboring countries—or were displaced internally within Sudan. Some returned to their native villages, while others sought refuge in different states, in search of shelter—whether in a house, a school, or any place that could protect them from the biting cold and harsh conditions.
We have witnessed the hardships Sudanese refugees endured abroad: declining incomes, soaring living costs, and the high expense of their children’s education. Many lost their jobs entirely, and even when salaries resumed, only 60% was restored for some, while others went unpaid for more than a year—particularly in Khartoum State. By the time salaries were fully reinstated, the Sudanese pound had sharply depreciated, living costs had skyrocketed, and citizens faced widespread destruction of their homes.
Internally displaced persons also suffered, especially from the greed of landlords in cities, who demanded exorbitant rents as if those arriving from Khartoum, Madani, Sennar, or villages ravaged by militias carried wealth with them. Sadly, the war revealed faces of relatives and acquaintances that many had never imagined—some failed to extend the solidarity and welcome so desperately needed during this national ordeal. It was a harsh test that left citizens facing circumstances they had never known before.
The burden has been heavy on expatriates, many of whom generously supported their families—either by hosting them abroad, sending remittances, or covering their daily needs at home and in host countries. Others, unable to help, perhaps had their own personal struggles, though this led to complaints of abandonment in such critical times.
With the liberation of Khartoum, Madani, Sennar, Sinja, and large parts of West and South Kordofan, and with ongoing advances toward liberating Darfur and the rest of Kordofan, calls for voluntary return have grown louder. The government, civil society, the Sudanese Defense Industries System, and Sudan’s embassies in Egypt and Saudi Arabia—along with the governments of those two countries—have all encouraged this return. Trains and buses have been arranged from Cairo to various Sudanese states, a commendable effort indeed. During his visit to Cairo, Prime Minister Dr. Kamal Idris announced that the government would provide 500 buses to facilitate return, adding to both official and popular efforts.
The thousands of Sudanese now returning home do so not only because of government appeals, but also because of a deep yearning for their homeland. Exile weighed heavily on them—financially and emotionally. Unlike other nations accustomed to migration, Sudanese people have little tolerance for forced displacement. Nostalgia for home has driven many back, despite lingering insecurity, fragile services, and shortages in essentials like housing, food, medicine, electricity, and water.
The pressing question remains: has the government fulfilled its duty to meet the needs of returnees? Judging by reports across media and social platforms, the answer is sobering. Services have not yet risen to match the scale of the return movement. Security remains the greatest concern, despite efforts by the Interior Ministry and police leadership. Water and electricity shortages persist. Education, particularly in Khartoum’s three towns, remains disrupted—with only Omdurman showing relative signs of revival. Many homes in Khartoum remain destroyed and uninhabitable, delaying resettlement. Even the government itself could not fully return to the capital before November, contrary to earlier announcements.
Reconstruction, however, cannot be the government’s responsibility alone. Citizens, philanthropists, expatriates, and business leaders all have roles to play. Yet, the state must demonstrate seriousness and a genuine commitment to its people—people who have endured immense suffering. No one expects compensation for what was lost; that is impossible. But at the very least, citizens demand security and basic services, so they can rebuild their homes and lives with stability.
In conclusion, the so-called “Government of Hope” must accelerate the pace of restoring essential services and show greater care for citizens, beyond symbolic political gestures. The recent spread of dengue fever and malaria, compounded by a shortage and soaring prices of basic medicines like paracetamol, poses yet another alarming challenge. Unless addressed, this health crisis may deter many from returning—or even push those who already returned to leave once again. The question now is: has the government and the Ministry of Health grasped the urgency of this looming threat?
