600 thousand stories of pain… Kriandongo camp tests the patience of Sudanese in the longest refugee journey

Since the outbreak of war in Sudan in April 2023, local officials have reported that about 600,000 Sudanese refugees have arrived at the camp, some after long and exhausting journeys through more than one country. They carried with them a little baggage and a lot of memories, and they are now trying to rearrange the details of their lives that have been turned upside down.

In Kriandungo camp – which is about 275 kilometers from Kampala – refugees live from different countries, from Sudan, South Sudan, Burundi, Kenya, the Democratic Republic of Congo and Rwanda, in addition to the host community. But what unites them is greater than their differences: the experience of loss, and the attempt to start over.

In an attempt to bring the scene closer and convey the picture as it is, United Nations News went to the camp, to monitor the details of their daily lives and find out the most prominent challenges they face since fleeing the war.

From engineering halls to a refugee tent

Hussein Hashem Timan lives a life he never imagined. A civil engineer with a master’s degree, he worked in the Civil Engineering Department at The African Union-United Nations Hybrid Mission in Darfur (UNAMID)But today he is sitting inside a tent, heading the Sudanese refugee community in Kryandungo camp, one of the largest refugee camps in Uganda.

Hussein Timan was living in Omdurman, before he was forced to flee with his children in May 2023 to South Sudan and then to Uganda, a journey he said was full of fear, harassment and violations.

He told UN News that he was very disappointed and set back because the war had made him lose everything, and added: “Here, when you complain, you find that someone’s misfortune is greater than yours, so you try to forget your misfortune in order to alleviate his misfortune. We derive our strength from each other. Sometimes we sit as professionals and talk about our past and our glories. We now live in a situation that is opposite to what we lived in before. I now live in a tent, but this is the language of war and these are its secretions.”

Over time, conditions did not improve as many had hoped. On the contrary, the challenges seem to be increasing. Hussein talks about the decline in aid, and about tents that were supposed to last for six months, but they remained the only shelter for more than three years.

Services are limited, if not almost non-existent. There is no adequate health care, no regular education, and even water and food have become a shared responsibility among the refugees themselves.

Hussein Timan warns that the future of an entire generation is at stake, expressing his hope that the situation of Sudanese refugees in Uganda will receive greater attention from the United Nations and the international community.

When food becomes a matter of life or death

In the face of this difficult reality, initiatives have emerged that are simple in form, but profound in their impact. Among them are community kitchens, which were launched in response to an urgent need, before gradually turning into a lifeline that contributes to saving Kriandongo refugees from hunger.

The number of community kitchens inside the camp is 20, and they have contributed to reducing hunger among Sudanese refugees and creating social cohesion among them.

Moatasem Mohamed Ahmed, who comes from the city of Nyala in the state of South Darfur, was living in Khartoum and working in trade between Sudan, China and Dubai, before the war completely changed the course of his life, so he became a refugee in Uganda since 2023, and today he assumes the duties of secretary of the community kitchens inside the camp.

He tells how the idea started: “These kitchens were established following the World Food Programme’s reduction in food rations. We noticed cases of malnutrition among the camp residents, and there were deaths and miscarriages due to hunger.”

Moatasem says that he learned a lot through his work in these kitchens: “Working in community kitchens taught me to be a human being. You see people hungry and naked here, and if you do not have humanity inside you, you cannot feel this. I feel this way about my Sudanese family, they are my blood and my flesh.”

“We survived…to help others.”

From the capital, Kampala, where she resides today, Dr. Widad Makki is keen to travel long distances to reach Kriandongo camp, not because she lives there, but because she chose to be alongside those who live inside it.

Widad was a university professor and former director of the Special Education Department in Khartoum State, but the war completely changed the course of her life. She remembers the moment she left her home amidst the bombing: “It was difficult for me to risk my children in the midst of gunfire, smoke billowing everywhere, burned cars, and corpses thrown on the streets. My children suffered a lot from these scenes. I used to ask them to cover their faces so that they would not see these scenes.”

Today, Widad lives in Kampala, but her connection to the camp is close. She visits it regularly to contribute to supporting refugees, especially by working with the Al-Malam Darfur Organization for Peace and Development.

She says that the war not only destroyed cities, but also separated families. Despite everything she went through, she chose not to stand by and watch. She explains this to UN News by saying: “We survived and arrived safely in Uganda and now we are providing a helping hand to our Sudanese brothers in the refugee camps here. We support community kitchens and provide full meals to the refugees here in Kryandungo.”

Widad does not hide her concern about the prolongation of the crisis, pointing to the increasing challenges facing refugees in Uganda, and says: “Our biggest fear is that this war will last because there are many challenges here in Uganda, from education to living and rent, and there are no sources of income or job opportunities. We dream every day that the war will stop so that we can return to Sudan.”

Refugee doctors support the health sector in Uganda

Away from the camps, the picture looks a little different in the capital, Kampala, where some Sudanese were able to restore part of their professional lives and rebuild their paths despite the effects of the war.

In one of the city’s hospitals, Dr. Abdul Jabbar Ahmed Adam stands wearing his white coat, treating wounds and relieving pain. The internal medicine specialist, who was working at the Ibn Sina Digestive Hospital in the Sudanese capital, found himself on a new path since his arrival in Uganda in 2023, following the outbreak of war.

He tells UN News: “I arrived in Kampala after the outbreak of war and started working at Gombe Hospital,” It continues to provide medical care to patients of different nationalities, not just Sudanese. He notes that he found a welcoming and supportive environment: “Uganda received us well, work here is good, and there is no discrimination… We did not feel any suffering, but rather we feel as if we are in Sudan.”

Abdul-Jabbar was not alone in this experience, as he was joined by a number of Sudanese medical personnel who found in Uganda an opportunity to continue working. He says: “There are many Sudanese doctors here, and some of them have opened medical centers that provide services,” Pointing out that their presence was not just an attempt to adapt, but rather turned into a real addition to the health sector.

He adds: “Uganda has good hospitals, but the challenge lies in the lack of personnel, and here came the role of Sudanese doctors who contributed to upgrading medical services. Patients of different nationalities come to us.”

While some refugees depend on aid, Abdul-Jabbar is keen to stress that the picture is broader than that: “Not everyone who comes depends on aid… There are professionals, merchants, and people with expertise in various fields.”

“White Heart”: A story that transcends war

Ibrahim Zakaria Yahya is another Sudanese refugee who settled in the town of Biali, near Kriandongo camp. It narrates chapters of a long journey that spanned years of displacement and attempts to settle.

He left Sudan in late 2007, coming from the Gereida area in South Darfur state, heading first to South Sudan, before arriving in Uganda in 2008, where he began a new life that was not easy.

He says he was “The first Sudanese to arrive with his family in Biali”After spending about five years in the capital, Kampala, before moving to this region about 12 years ago. There, he faced many challenges in his early career, especially with the language barrier and limited capabilities. He says, recalling that stage: “I suffered a lot when I first came.”

But with time, he gradually began to make his way. He worked in trade and agriculture, then later turned to investing in real estate, until he was able to establish his own project.

Three years ago, he opened a hotel he called “white heart”, It is a name that is not devoid of significance. She explained it to United Nations news by saying: “I named the hotel the White Heart as a call to clear consciences and hearts, to overcome the bitterness that the Sudanese experienced during the repeated wars.”

He goes on to say: “Whoever wants to visit me here, let him come with a white and clean heart… We are refugees who fled war, and we need to coexist here so that we can return to our country safely.”

Despite the relative stability he has achieved, Ibrahim does not fail to express his gratitude to the Ugandan government and people: “They received me with an open heart, and I never felt like a refugee. I am a refugee only in documents, but I enjoy all the rights like citizens. I even own a piece of land that I could not own in Sudan.”

Despite the welcome he found here, Ibrahim does not hide his longing for Sudan, expressing his hope that peace will prevail soon, so that he and other refugees in Kriandongo can return to their homes.

However, this hope collides with a complex daily reality in the camp, where the future remains unclear, services are limited, opportunities are scarce, and anxiety is present, especially among children and youth.

However, people cling to a glimmer of hope that the war will one day end and that they will return to their homes. Until that is achieved, life continues here… between its simplicity and its cruelty, loaded with endless stories.