{"id":51146,"date":"2025-07-09T00:19:51","date_gmt":"2025-07-08T21:19:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/?p=51146"},"modified":"2025-07-09T00:19:51","modified_gmt":"2025-07-08T21:19:51","slug":"bread-first-war-meals-in-a-safe-city","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/2025\/07\/09\/bread-first-war-meals-in-a-safe-city\/","title":{"rendered":"Bread First: War Meals in a “Safe” City"},"content":{"rendered":"

Sudan Events \u2013 Agencies<\/strong><\/p>\n

The northern part of Omdurman (Karre Locality) has been relatively stable throughout the two years of war\u2014aside from waves of artillery shelling exchanged between the army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) during the latter\u2019s control over large parts of the city, up until the army declared Khartoum state clear of RSF presence on May 20. Yet this classification does not necessarily reflect the daily realities of its residents. Life on the ground reveals a deepening food crisis, manifested in silent hunger and shrinking meals, despite visible signs of social solidarity.<\/p>\n

Over two years, the economic collapse and disruption of food supply chains directly impacted dining tables in Omdurman, leading to profound changes in how people access food. In this bleak picture, statistics and data are no longer enough to capture the depth of the crisis\u2014only personal stories can truly expose the contours of hunger and show how people\u2019s relationship with food\u2014and with dignity\u2014has changed at the heart of Omdurman.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cThe main reason I left Omdurman was because I could no longer provide food\u2014not even a single meal\u2014for my children.\u201d<\/p>\n

Among these stories is that of Omar, who was forced to leave the city\u2014not in search of a better future, but for \u201ca meal for his children.\u201d He left Omdurman in July last year after failing to provide daily sustenance for his family. With great difficulty, he managed to relocate his pregnant wife and children to Kassala, where her family lives. He then returned to Omdurman to share a house with two friends, splitting meager meals with them: breakfast was fava beans for 1,000 SDG and eight pieces of bread for another 1,000; dinner, at best, was leftover fava beans from a nearby shop. \u201cI haven\u2019t heard the word meat or fish in ages. Even eggs are now a luxury,\u201d says Omar. Eventually, his inability to find food led him to move to Nairobi, where\u2014with help from friends\u2014he started a small grocery business. He sends one million SDG a month to his family in Sudan, fully aware that it\u2019s not enough.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cHow can a man eat when the thought of his children\u2019s hunger is choking him?\u201d<\/p>\n

Not everyone had the option to leave. In the same city that Omar departed, many others like Abdelhay are trying to adapt to daily hunger, relying on the solidarity of neighbors or fellow market workers. Abdelhay, a young man from Umbadda, used to work as a taxi driver until his car was confiscated by RSF elements. \u201cMost days I eat at home. Two meals a day, more or less depending on what\u2019s available. The last time I had a full, satisfying meal was during Eid al-Adha,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n

Abdelhay sums up the reality of daily survival in one phrase: \u201cFood is more important than anything, and safety comes second.\u201d He explains: \u201cIn the market, you can buy a simple meal\u2014fatta or potato chips\u2014if you have the money. If not, you rely on others: neighbors, friends, the tea seller, the bakery man, or even the \u2018miriya\u2019 at the local grocery store. And when they need help, they come to us.\u201d<\/p>\n

His family\u2019s priorities have shifted since the war, like thousands of Sudanese families. Meat and dairy have completely disappeared from their meals, replaced by lentils as the daily companion in an increasingly scarce food landscape.<\/p>\n

A New Economy of Hunger<\/strong><\/p>\n

Hunger isn’t just measured by what enters homes but also by what is cooked outside of them. In Omdurman, small restaurant owners struggle to keep their pots boiling amid soaring prices, declining demand, and growing numbers of customers who can\u2019t afford to pay.<\/p>\n

In the Wad Nubawi neighborhood, Khidr\u2014a veteran owner of a humble eatery beside the historic Wad Nubawi Mosque\u2014has his own story with fava beans and a quiet struggle against hunger. With a voice full of fatigue and determination, he recounts his long journey selling beans, falafel, and once-weekly cow trotters (kawari\u2019), served only on Fridays.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cI\u2019ve worked in this place for almost twenty years. We used to serve cow trotters only on Fridays, but after the war, everything changed. I closed the shop for over a year during the clashes\u2014there were no customers, and ingredients were nearly impossible to get. I reopened when the army regained control and people slowly returned,\u201d Khidr tells ATAR. \u201cNow that customers are back, their orders have changed dramatically. People used to ask for fava beans with eggs, falafel, and a full portion of kawari\u2019. Now most just order half a serving of beans and a single piece of bread. Kawari\u2019 is off the menu\u2014it’s simply unaffordable.\u201d<\/p>\n

Before the war, a plate of beans cost 500 SDG. Now, it\u2019s 2,000. \u201cI\u2019ve only ever used original \u2018Salim\u2019 beans, but after the war, we had to switch to cheaper types\u2014otherwise, we just couldn\u2019t keep up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnyone who comes to me hungry\u2014I don\u2019t turn them away or embarrass them. I have a vow: one bean sandwich for every hungry person, especially the children.\u201d<\/p>\n

Khidr has seen things he never imagined: some customers eat and leave without paying. \u201cI know them, and I know their inability to pay is why they do it.\u201d Some of his old customers just sit outside and drink tea. \u201cI know they can\u2019t afford a meal. Everyone has bigger worries now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Despite his own hardships\u2014his family now split across three cities in displacement, often relying on credit to survive\u2014Khidr continues to feed those in need. \u201cWhen gas runs out, I cook with firewood. It takes more time and effort, but the important thing is that there\u2019s beans in the morning\u2014even a little.\u201d<\/p>\n

One woman buys 30 bean orders from him every Thursday to distribute to displaced and needy families. \u201cWe try to follow her example as best we can,\u201d Khidr says.<\/p>\n

From Fruit Seller to Surviving the Market<\/strong><\/p>\n

Musa, who spent ten years selling fruit in the Omdurman market, never imagined he\u2019d become a vegetable vendor. Like many others, he found himself forced to redefine his job and economic identity amid the war.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cI used to sell apples, grapes, bananas… but when the war broke out, roads closed, goods disappeared, and prices skyrocketed. Fruits became luxury items. So I went back to vegetables, hoping for better income.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now, Musa works at Hattana market with just one helper\u2014his cousin. The rest of his former staff left or couldn\u2019t afford to keep working. \u201cThey needed bigger returns, but the shop is small and barely supports the two of us.\u201d<\/p>\n

If Khidr cooks food for people who can\u2019t pay, Musa witnesses another face of hunger\u2014rising prices, changing buying habits, and the disappearance of vegetables from stalls, just as proteins vanished from dinner tables. In the vegetable market, hunger is now measured by the piece.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cA kilo of tomatoes now costs 6,000 SDG. Eggplants are 4,000. Even zucchini and okra are rare. Prices change daily\u2014morning prices differ from evening ones.\u201d<\/p>\n

The striking thing, Musa says, isn\u2019t fewer customers\u2014it\u2019s how they buy. There are more people in the market now because many outside shops have closed, but buyers are purchasing less. \u201cThey buy one piece at a time, or just a quarter kilo.\u201d<\/p>\n

He describes this new behavior as a kind of “compassionate competition” among sellers\u2014each trying to offer the lowest price, though still unaffordable for most. \u201cIn the end, everyone loses.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now, all the vegetables sold come from nearby areas in northern Omdurman\u2014no longer from Gezira, White Nile, or Shendi. With no refrigeration due to power outages, sellers are racing against time. \u201cIf we don\u2019t sell the tomatoes or peppers the same day, we throw them away. There\u2019s no electricity to preserve them. Sometimes we lower the price just to avoid losing everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Credit, once rare, has now become a social necessity. \u201cMany families now buy vegetables on credit. I can\u2019t refuse, especially if they have kids. But it affects us too\u2014there\u2019s no one supporting us,\u201d says Musa.<\/p>\n

Meals Sized for Hunger<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cSometimes we buy ready-cooked beans from the shop, or we just settle for lentils. We\u2019ve almost entirely stopped cooking meat. The last time we had meat was two weeks ago. Now we buy cheap \u2018soup chicken\u2019 from a nearby supermarket\u2014it\u2019s mostly necks, wings, and bones. It sells fast.\u201d<\/p>\n

Inside homes fighting for survival on the bare minimum, mothers are leading daily battles. Meals are measured in patience, not in satisfaction. In a small home in Thawra, Omdurman, Awadiya cooks with whatever is available and dreams of what is not. Sitting in her kitchen surrounded by worn pots and the same familiar food smells, she prepares two meals a day\u2014breakfast and a late lunch\u2014often consisting of beans, lentils, or falafel to satisfy the children.<\/p>\n

She divides meals carefully, saying: \u201cChildren don\u2019t eat everything, and we\u2019ve stopped making certain dishes altogether, like kabsa\u2014it\u2019s no longer affordable. And we can\u2019t make it with soup chicken.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe sometimes trade meals with neighbors. If my neighbor makes something new, she shares it with me, and I do the same. Solidarity is what keeps us going.\u201d<\/p>\n

Awadiya often cooks using charcoal or an electric heater\u2014if there\u2019s power\u2014when gas is unavailable. Water cuts are also frequent, making meal prep a daily challenge. \u201cWe shop at the market because it\u2019s cheaper, but if we forget something like sugar or oil, we have to buy it from the local shop at a higher price.\u201d<\/p>\n

She explains to her children why they can\u2019t have certain foods and promises to make it up to them when money comes, sometimes with falafel or eggplant salad. Some days, she makes only a small amount\u2014or nothing at all. \u201cWe might just eat bread and tea. Even bread is expensive\u2014six pieces for 1,000 SDG. Sometimes we wait for more money. We thank God always and hope He lifts this hardship from us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cooking is no longer a joy for Awadiya\u2014it\u2019s a daily burden. \u201cI\u2019m always thinking: what will I cook tomorrow?\u201d Despite the proximity of a charity kitchen, she avoids going. Not because she doesn\u2019t need it, but because of personal pride. \u201cWe simply don\u2019t accept charity, no matter our situation. I can\u2019t stand in line for a lentil meal\u2014there are others more in need. Unless it\u2019s government assistance, then we\u2019ll take our share. But otherwise, I can\u2019t. I pray I never have to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Food as a Test of Dignity<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dr. Hala Osman, a specialist in social psychology, explains that when food becomes scarce, it becomes a test of dignity and a source of identity crisis. \u201cThe war didn\u2019t just harm bodies\u2014it invaded people\u2019s hearts and minds, affecting how they see themselves and others,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cTransitioning from independence to dependency\u2014especially in basic needs like food\u2014can trigger deep psychological shock: feelings of humiliation, helplessness, and low self-worth.\u201d<\/p>\n

She adds that not being able to provide food causes intense stress, particularly for mothers, who see feeding the family as a core responsibility. This can lead to chronic sadness and anxiety.<\/p>\n

Hala believes people\u2019s reluctance to ask for help, even in desperate need, is a form of self-defense\u2014a way to preserve dignity. Anger, frustration, and despair may surface, and people begin to use defensive behaviors like denial or pretending to be okay, just to avoid the stigma of need.<\/p>\n

She emphasizes the importance of how food aid is delivered. \u201cWhen aid is given in a way that preserves dignity and avoids humiliating lines, the individual feels respected and less degraded. Long queues or having to prove one\u2019s poverty can emotionally scar parents\u2014and children\u2014leading to anxiety, shame, or even damaged self-esteem later on. Living off aid for long periods can make a child feel dependent or powerless, weakening their trust in their family\u2019s ability to protect them. This is dangerous for psychological identity development.\u201d<\/p>\n

As the crisis drags on, Hala calls for more humane approaches to aid\u2014like training volunteers to understand the psychological aspects and treat recipients with sensitivity, minimizing harm.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Sudan Events \u2013 Agencies The northern part of Omdurman (Karre Locality) has been relatively stable throughout the two years of war\u2014aside from waves of artillery shelling exchanged between the army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) during the latter\u2019s control over large parts of the city, up until the army declared Khartoum state clear of …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":51147,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-51146","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-reports"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51146","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=51146"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51146\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":51148,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51146\/revisions\/51148"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/51147"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=51146"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=51146"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=51146"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}