Pay up or starve: RSF monetises its hunger siege
Paramilitary group lets people escape El Fasher, then shakes them down for all they have.
Khalid Elwalid in Khartoum
Besieged people in El Fasher say that leaving the city costs more than 600,000 Sudanese pounds ($300 on the black market), with much of it going to the paramilitary group behind the siege.
The Rapid Support Forces (RSF) have besieged the North Darfur capital for more than a year. The nearest safe town, Tawila, is about 60km away and now shelters 379,000 displaced people from El Fasher and Zamzam camp, according to the Norwegian Refugee Council.
“Leaving El Fasher for Tawila was one of the hardest experiences of my life,” says Hikma*, who fled with her four young children. She spent over 1.5-million Sudanese pounds on the journey, some of it paid to RSF. “They control the main road between El Fasher and Tawila; [we’re] forced to pay heavy crossing fees,” Hikma told The Continent.
Donkey carts along the way charge hefty fees to carry people, but it’s usually for only part of the journey. Families have to walk most or all of the 60km.
The road is also targeted by drones, including an attack last week that destroyed three trucks carrying food aid near Al Mellit in North Darfur, the United Nations said. A similar attack in June on another UN convoy killed five people and injured several others.
When Hikma and her family reached Tawila, there were no houses waiting for them, “only fragile shelters of straw”. With the rainy season approaching, the displaced people face hunger, homelessness and disease. Cholera is spreading in the town, killing children, women, and elderly people, according to aid workers. “We lost everything – yet we must still fight to survive,” Hikma said.
Many who can’t afford the escape fees now shelter in Abu Shouk camp near El Fasher, which fighters attacked on 11 August, killing dozens of people. Local responders said the camp has no food or clean water.
“For a long time, families here survived because of the Abu Shouk Emergency Room, where I work,” says Mohamed Adam. “But funding has dried up. The communal kitchens and all the mutual-aid groups have stopped.”