{"id":51745,"date":"2025-07-22T02:13:47","date_gmt":"2025-07-21T23:13:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/?p=51745"},"modified":"2025-07-22T02:13:47","modified_gmt":"2025-07-21T23:13:47","slug":"bread-first-war-meals-in-a-safe-city-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/2025\/07\/22\/bread-first-war-meals-in-a-safe-city-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Bread First: War Meals in a “Safe” City"},"content":{"rendered":"

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

The northern part of Omdurman city (Karrari locality) has been relatively stable throughout the two years of war, aside from sporadic artillery exchanges between the army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), particularly during the RSF’s occupation of large parts of the city. This continued until the army declared Khartoum state RSF-free on May 20. However, this classification of “relative stability” doesn’t necessarily reflect the daily realities of life for its residents. Life on the ground reveals a deepening food crisis, manifesting in everything from silent hunger to reduced meals\u2014despite signs of community solidarity.<\/p>\n

Over the past two years, the collapse of the economy and the breakdown of food supply chains have directly affected the tables of Omdurman, profoundly altering how food is accessed. In this bleak landscape, numbers and data alone are no longer sufficient to grasp the depth of the crisis\u2014only personal stories can reveal the face of hunger and how it has reshaped people’s relationship with food and pride in the heart of Omdurman.<\/p>\n

One such story 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 of last year after failing to provide his family\u2019s daily sustenance. Struggling, 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, living off meager meals: breakfast was fava beans for 1,000 SDG and 8 pieces of bread for another 1,000, and dinner\u2014on a good day\u2014was fava bean fatta from the corner shop.
\n\u201cI no longer hear of meat or fish; even eggs have become a luxury,\u201d Omar says. Later, the lack of food pushed him to flee to Nairobi, where he started a small grocery shop with the help of friends. He sends his family a million Sudanese pounds monthly, but he knows it\u2019s not enough.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe main reason I left Omdurman was because I could no longer afford food\u2014not even one meal for my children,\u201d Omar says. \u201cHow can a man eat when the thought of his children going hungry is choking him?\u201d<\/p>\n

But not everyone had the option to leave. In the same city Omar fled, many\u2014like Abdelhai\u2014have stayed, adjusting to hunger one day at a time, relying on the solidarity of neighbors or market friends. Abdelhai, a young man from Umbadda who used to work as a taxi driver before RSF forces seized his car, says:
\n\u201cI mostly eat at home. Two meals a day, sometimes more or less depending on what\u2019s available. The last time I had a full, satisfying meal was during Eid al-Adha.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sums up the daily reality with one sentence: \u201cFood comes before everything else\u2014then safety.\u201d
\n\u201cIn the market, you might be able to buy something simple like fatta or potato chips\u2014if you have the money. When you don\u2019t, you rely on people: neighbors, friends, the tea lady, the bakery seller, or even the \u2018Miriya\u2019 shop in the neighborhood. And when they need help, they come to us.<\/p>\n

Like many Sudanese families, Abdelhai\u2019s family has seen their priorities shift after the war. Meat and dairy have completely disappeared from the table, replaced by lentils as the daily staple amid extremely limited food options.<\/p>\n

The Daily Market Equation<\/strong><\/p>\n

Hunger is not just measured by what goes into homes, but also by what\u2019s cooked outside them. Across Omdurman, some small restaurant owners strive to keep their pots cooking despite high prices, low demand, and an increasing number of customers who can\u2019t afford to pay.<\/p>\n

In Wad Nobawi neighborhood, Khidr\u2014a longtime owner of a small eatery next to the historic Wad Nobawi mosque\u2014has his own story of silent resistance through food. His voice weary yet determined, Khidr shares his two-decade journey with fava beans, falafel, and kaware\u2019 (cow feet stew) once served only on Fridays.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve worked in this place for about 20 years. We used to serve kaware\u2019 only on Fridays. But everything changed after the war. I shut down the shop for over a year due to clashes and lack of supplies. I reopened after the army regained control and people started to return.\u201d<\/p>\n

With more customers returning, their orders have changed dramatically: \u201cPeople now order less. Before, they\u2019d get fava beans with eggs and falafel and even full portions of kaware\u2019. Now most people ask for half a portion of fava beans and just one piece of bread. Kaware\u2019 has disappeared from the menu\u2014it\u2019s simply too expensive for customers.\u201d<\/p>\n

Khidr compares the pre-war and current situations:
\n\u201cA fava bean plate used to cost 500 SDG. Now it\u2019s 2,000. I\u2019ve always used premium quality Salim beans, but after the war we\u2019ve had to use cheaper types\u2014how else can we keep up with the market?\u201d<\/p>\n

He speaks of new realities he\u2019d never seen before:
\n\u201cSome customers eat and leave without paying. I know them well, and I know it\u2019s not dishonesty\u2014it\u2019s poverty. Some of my old customers just sit and drink tea because they can\u2019t afford a meal. Everyone has priorities now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Despite it all, Khidr insists on feeding those who can\u2019t pay:
\n\u201cNo hungry person leaves empty-handed\u2014especially kids. I\u2019ve made a vow to myself: a sandwich of fava beans for anyone in need. Even though my own situation is bad\u2014I had to split my family across three cities due to displacement, and they often survive on borrowed money.\u201d<\/p>\n

When gas runs out, he reverts to traditional methods:
\n\u201cWe cook on firewood. It takes longer and more effort, but what matters is having beans in the morning, even if just a small portion.\u201d<\/p>\n

What keeps him going?<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cEvery Thursday, a woman buys 30 orders of fava beans from me and distributes them to the displaced and needy. We try to follow her example as much as we can.\u201d<\/p>\n

As for his staff: \u201cI used to have three workers. Now it\u2019s just me and my cousin. The others left the country or couldn\u2019t continue under these conditions. They needed higher incomes, but this shop barely covers the two of us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Buying Vegetables by the Piece<\/strong><\/p>\n

While Khidr cooks for customers who often can\u2019t pay, Mousa\u2014a vegetable vendor in the market\u2014witnesses another side of the struggle: skyrocketing prices, altered buying habits, and the disappearance of vegetables from market stalls just like proteins disappeared from dining tables.<\/p>\n

Mousa, who had sold fruits in Omdurman\u2019s main market for 10 years, never imagined he would switch to vegetables. But like many in his city, he was forced to redefine his profession amid the war.
\n\u201cI used to sell apples, grapes, and bananas. But when the war broke out, roads closed, goods vanished, and prices became unbearable. Fruits became a luxury. So, I switched to vegetables, hoping for a better source of income.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yet even now, in Hattana Market, Mousa reports that a kilo of tomatoes costs 6,000 SDG, and eggplant 4,000\u2014unimaginable prices before the war. Zucchini and eggplant have become rare items. Prices change daily\u2014and even hourly.<\/p>\n

Interestingly, it\u2019s not fewer customers that surprise him, but their new shopping behavior:
\n\u201cThere are more people in the market because many shops outside have closed. But people now buy vegetables by the piece\u2014or a quarter kilo at most.\u201d<\/p>\n

In this context, a kind of \u201ccompassionate competition\u201d has emerged among vendors.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe compete on who can sell for less\u2014but even our lower prices are still too high for most people. In the end, everyone is losing.\u201d<\/p>\n

Most of Mousa\u2019s vegetables now come from nearby areas in northern Omdurman rather than from Gezira, White Nile, or Shendi. Without refrigeration due to power cuts, vendors race against time: if they don\u2019t sell tomatoes or chilies the same day, they must discard them. Sometimes they slash prices just to avoid spoilage.<\/p>\n

He adds: \u201cDebt is no longer the exception in the market\u2014it\u2019s a necessity. Many families now buy vegetables on credit, and I can\u2019t say no\u2014especially if they have kids. But we\u2019re also struggling, and there\u2019s no one supporting us.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Inside homes striving to survive on the bare minimum, a daily battle unfolds\u2014one fought by mothers. Meals are measured by patience, and cooked according to hunger, not fullness.<\/p>\n

In a small house in Al-Thawra, Omdurman, Awadia cooks what she can and dreams of what she can\u2019t. Surrounded by old pots and recurring food smells, she prepares two meals a day\u2014breakfast and a late lunch\u2014usually lentils, fava beans, or falafel to please her children.<\/p>\n

\u201cSometimes we buy ready-made fava beans from the shop; other times we just cook lentils. We\u2019ve almost completely stopped eating meat. The last time we cooked it was two weeks ago. Now, we buy cheap \u2018soup chicken\u2019\u2014mostly necks, wings, and bones. People buy it in bulk, and it sells out early. Still, we need 8,000 to 10,000 SDG daily.\u201d<\/p>\n

Despite the simplicity, Awadia tries to prepare enough food for her family of five. Meals are portioned by necessity.
\n\u201cThe kids don\u2019t eat everything. Some dishes, like kabsa, we\u2019ve stopped making\u2014it\u2019s no longer within our budget, and soup chicken isn\u2019t suitable for it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sometimes she trades meals with neighbors:
\n\u201cIf my neighbor makes something special, she shares it with me, and I do the same. This kind of solidarity is what keeps us going.\u201d<\/p>\n

With gas often unavailable, she cooks on charcoal or uses an electric heater when there\u2019s power. Water is also frequently cut off, making meal preparation a daily challenge.<\/p>\n

She explains the hardship to her children when they ask for things she can\u2019t provide, promising to make up for it with falafel or eggplant salad when possible. On some days, she cooks too little\u2014or nothing at all:
\n\u201cSometimes, we just eat bread and tea. Even bread costs 1,000 SDG for six pieces, and we wait for more money to buy more. Thank God always\u2014we pray this hardship ends soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

Awadia no longer finds joy in cooking\u2014it has become a daily stressor. She\u2019s always wondering: \u201cWhat will I cook tomorrow?\u201d Although a nearby communal kitchen exists, she hesitates to go\u2014not because she doesn\u2019t need it, but out of pride:
\n\u201cWe simply don\u2019t accept charity\u2014no matter our situation. I find it hard to stand in line for a lentil meal when there are others more in need. If it came from the government, I would take our share, but otherwise\u2014I can\u2019t. And I pray I never have to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Food, Dignity, and the Strain on Identity<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dr. Hala Osman, a social psychologist, explains how, when food becomes scarce, it becomes a test of dignity and a trigger for identity crisis.
\n\u201cThe war hasn\u2019t just affected bodies\u2014it has infiltrated people\u2019s emotions and self-image.\u201d<\/p>\n

The transition from independence to dependence, especially for essentials like food, can cause psychological trauma, manifesting in feelings of shame, helplessness, and low self-worth. Hala notes that mothers, in particular, feel immense pressure to feed their families\u2014leading to chronic anxiety and sadness.<\/p>\n

She explains that many avoid seeking help due to pride and self-preservation. People may act like they are managing to avoid the stigma of need, using denial or pretend self-sufficiency as defense mechanisms.<\/p>\n

Hala emphasizes that how aid is delivered matters:
\nWhen food distribution preserves dignity and avoids humiliating queues or proof of need, it upholds respect and reduces shame. Watching parents in moments of weakness can plant anxiety, embarrassment, or insecurity in children\u2014potentially impacting their self-esteem and identity long-term.<\/p>\n

As the crisis continues, Hala calls for more humane aid practices\u2014training volunteers in psychological sensitivity and ensuring dignity in all interactions.<\/p>\n

If this is the story of a city spared from the frontlines, it is also the story of a community trying to build networks of support from nothing\u2014and redefining subsistence as an act of resistance.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Sudan Events \u2013 Agencies The northern part of Omdurman city (Karrari locality) has been relatively stable throughout the two years of war, aside from sporadic artillery exchanges between the army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), particularly during the RSF’s occupation of large parts of the city. This continued until the army declared Khartoum state …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":51746,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-51745","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\/51745","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=51745"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51745\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":51747,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51745\/revisions\/51747"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/51746"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=51745"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=51745"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sudanevents.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=51745"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}