Rashid* Ahmed Idris was playing on the banks of the Nile in Omdurman with his friends when, in 2023, life changed forever. "Suddenly, we saw dust rising and realised fighting had started," he said, the peace pierced by a shell falling nearby as the children ran for their lives.
It was April 2023 in Sudan, and fighting had erupted in nearby Khartoum between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). "In the following days, armed forces began entering neighbourhoods," he said, as he hid at home.
"They would say, 'Anyone we find, we will beat.' They searched houses, interrogated people, and checked their phones. If they found something suspicious, they would tie people up and beat them."
Just 12 years old at the time, Rashid was one of countless children forced to flee their homes as brutal civil war spread across Sudan. "We were constantly running and hiding," he said, first fleeing to Salha, then Sennar, Gedaref, and Kassala.
Sudan is the world's largest humanitarian emergency . The African nation has grappled with decades of violence and failed transitions to civilian rule, culminating in the latest conflict.
The nation is now marking the grim milestone of three years of a civil war that shows no signs of ending. Funding shortfalls Triggered by a dispute between the rival generals about the military leadership, the conflict between the SAF and RSF has left more than 150,000 people dead .
Shifting territorial frontlines, indiscriminate military activity, and horrific allegations of violence and atrocities on both sides left millions of civilians with little choice but to flee their homes. UN figures say this includes the equivalent of up to 5,000 children displaced every day — an average of around three children displaced per minute. "In the 20 years that I've been visiting, the situation now is the worst that I've seen," Moazzam Malik, the CEO of Save The Children, tells The New Arab .
"The health system is on its knees. The education system is on its knees. And so the stories that sit behind the numbers are difficult, challenging, and tragic," he adds.
Moazzam visited Sudan just weeks ago and witnessed firsthand the ongoing challenges confronting Sudan's population. His observation is stark: Sudan's crisis is "not getting the attention that it needs, given the scale. Either in terms of the humanitarian effort and the funding, but also in terms of the diplomatic effort."
"The world's eyes are elsewhere," he said. The ongoing US-Israeli war on Iran and the subsequent fallout across the Middle East risks diverting diplomatic attention from Sudan, while analysts warn it could further reshape the regional dynamics surrounding the conflict. Media blackouts and reporting limitations in Sudan further complicate efforts to depict the stark realities on the ground. It's often left to NGOs to support Sudan's population and raise awareness of the ongoing crisis — even as aid cuts make this work harder. "Last year, the humanitarian appeal was less than 40% funded," Moazzam explained.
"What that translates into is clinics that are closing. It translates into unavailable treatments for malnutrition. It means people cannot access the water and sanitation services they need. And it translates into food insecurity." El Fasher: A snapshot of brutality On 15 April, Berlin and London will co-host a summit to mobilise emergency assistance for Sudan — despite setbacks in previous diplomatic appeals.
Speaking to The New Arab as he prepared to travel there, Mohammed Fathelrahman said: "We need a unified initiative designed and led by Sudanese people, supported by the international community and not owned by them."
Growing up in Khartoum and also displaced when fighting erupted, Mohammed has witnessed the horrors of war, with his belongings looted and his father shot.
"I lost almost 15 of my family members," he said. Today, he channels his experiences into youth advocacy, serving as the Chief Innovation Officer at Youth Alliance for Local Adaptation and Peace (YALAP). "Now we have four generations of youth and children who lost access to education," says Mohammed, who has worked across Sudan, supporting local youth in need. "At the same time, recent restrictions on student visas and scholarship opportunities, particularly in the UK, among others, including pathways such as Chevening, are further limiting the few remaining avenues for Sudanese youth to continue their education."
And as international players continue to back rival factions in Sudan, such as the UAE's alleged funding of the RSF , conflict and instability are expected to continue. One of the clearest flashpoints of the crisis was El Fasher , which drew global attention in October 2025 after RSF forces seized the city amid reports of mass atrocities.
Investigations and survivor accounts describe widespread killings, executions, and evidence of mass graves, with estimates suggesting thousands were killed in the initial days and tens of thousands more over the following weeks. Torn by violence Amina* Moussa was one of those fleeing the besieged town at the time with her four children. "My son told me, ‘I cannot come with you. You have to leave me here,'" she said, with men and boys separated from fleeing families at checkpoints and forced to stay behind.
Her eldest son joined the SAF and was among those killed, the mother revealed. Despite losing her son, Amina then had to endure weeks of walking to safety through the rainy season with her remaining children, encroaching war forcing them to keep walking. "We had to sleep on the streets in the rain and stay awake to protect our children," she said, before they finally reached the Al-Nahda Camp in December 2025.
Many fleeing such atrocities across the country remain in a state of limbo — dealing with both the mental trauma of what they experienced, while navigating life in overcrowded displacement camps with overstretched humanitarian networks. Earlier this year, Sudan's Prime Minister Kamil Idris announced that 2026 would be the "year of peace." While diplomatic summits may show some efforts to achieve this, the scale of humanitarian needs across Sudan remains unprecedented. "We need peace more than ever now… violence creates more violence," says Mohammed, echoing the perspective shared by many Sudanese nationals, adding: "We don't have the privilege to lose hope."
Despite uncertainty about the road ahead, small stories of hope are emerging in Sudan's displacement camps.
Rashid missed almost three years of regular schooling, but has now resumed classes near Port Sudan, learning Arabic, English, geography, and maths. He said he hopes to make it to university one day and then to military school. "I want to protect Sudan," he said.
"Despite everything that has happened, I still love football, I love studying, and I hope for a better future for my country." *Some names have been changed to protect identities Tamara Davison is a British freelance journalist reporting across the Middle East on humanitarian issues, post-conflict resolution and migration