For days, survivors undertook harrowing journeys on foot and by donkey, desperately fleeing the besieged city. Their escape routes were grim, lined with bodies, and many had already lost loved ones to relentless gunfire and brutal abductions.
Since paramilitary forces overran El Fasher in Sudan’s Darfur region more than a week ago, tens of thousands have attempted to flee. Yet, only a small fraction have reached safety in nearby aid zones, having first endured a horrifying massacre within the city walls before facing further violence during their escape.
“Bodies of men and women lay everywhere; some had even been run over by vehicles,” recounted Saeeda, a 28-year-old woman who eventually made it to Tawila, an aid outpost 40 miles from El Fasher. “During our journey, they singled out and dragged away girls from our fleeing group.”
Recent testimonies collected by the Norwegian Refugee Council from El Fasher escapees paint a grim picture of widespread destruction, eerily reminiscent of the genocidal violence that ravaged Darfur over two decades ago. El Fasher was the final city in the region to fall to the Rapid Support Forces, a paramilitary group locked in a devastating two-year civil war with Sudan’s military.

Credit: Mohammed Abaker/Associated Press
Hundreds are now reaching Tawila, many with bullet wounds and visible signs of torture, as reported by local medical staff. Tragically, orphaned children are frequently being brought in not by family, but by other desperate strangers who aided them along the way. The fate of thousands still missing remains a profound concern.
“Our question is stark: Where are they? Where are all the others?” asked Sylvain Penicaud, head of the Doctors Without Borders hospital in Tawila. “It’s deeply concerning and unsettling. We fear these missing individuals may have been abducted for ransom or killed.”
The true extent of the devastation in and around El Fasher remains largely unknown to the international community, including the United Nations. Communication lines are severed, and most residents who stayed behind are unreachable. The survivor testimonies shared in this article were gathered by the Norwegian Refugee Council’s aid team in Tawila for The New York Times.
These powerful accounts were shared anonymously to protect the survivors from potential reprisals. Living in areas without phone or internet access, they were unable to be interviewed directly by journalists. Instead, The Times relayed questions to aid workers in Tawila, who then visited the encampments to record their responses.
Their narratives echo those from other survivors, some contacted by journalists in Tawila, others through rare satellite phone connections, all depicting scenes of unimaginable horror.
“The treatment was utterly brutal – beatings, executions, and some people were dragged away simply for being Black,” recounted Nasreldin, who reached Tawila with his child by truck after informing a group of women about his wife’s death. “We also had to abandon a family of about eight, all badly wounded.”
He added, “Anyone attempting to leave El Fasher is automatically deemed an enemy.”

Credit: Mohammed Abaker/Associated Press
Aid organizations are sounding the alarm: thousands remain trapped in El Fasher, facing widespread executions and constant shelling. The World Health Organization confirmed a devastating attack on the city’s last operational hospital, resulting in over 450 deaths. Furthermore, on Monday, the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification, a global authority on hunger, officially declared a famine in the city.
Saeeda, who had sought refuge in the hospital after her home was shelled, described the scene: “When they stormed the hospital, some people were executed, while others managed to hide. When I finally left, there were bodies everywhere, and the sounds of shelling and fighting filled the air, with countless people dead from explosions or gunfire.”
Fatima, 48, recounted the initial days of the assault: “We wandered for two days inside the city. Each time the shelling intensified, we’d hide in a building. If that building was hit, we’d run to another. We were forced to leave many dead behind.”
While modern weaponry fuels this conflict, the battleground itself is steeped in history. The Rapid Support Forces trace their origins to the Janjaweed, the largely Arab militias notorious for committing genocide in Darfur in the early 2000s. Disturbingly, the very same ethnic divisions are seemingly driving the current wave of atrocities.
“If you are Black, they automatically assume you’re either a soldier or affiliated with the former regime,” Nasreldin stated.
The journey out of El Fasher is a brutal ordeal, with escapees constantly pursued by armed groups and subjected to “extortion, arbitrary arrests, detention, looting, sexual violence, and harassment,” as reported by the Norwegian Refugee Council. Many endure severe hunger, resorting to animal feed to survive.
Despite widespread condemnation from Western governments and international bodies for these horrific abuses, few officials have dared to publicly criticize the United Arab Emirates for its alleged support of the R.S.F. The UAE remains a vital strategic partner for Washington and other Western nations.
In Washington, however, some congressional leaders are intensifying calls to halt arms sales to the UAE until it ceases supplying arms to paramilitary forces in Sudan.
Sudan’s protracted civil war is tragically recognized as one of the most severe humanitarian disasters globally. The conflict has displaced an astonishing 12 million people and, by various estimates, claimed the lives of up to 400,000 individuals.
One of the most heart-wrenching consequences of this war is the soaring number of abandoned children.
A young boy, who arrived in Tawila last week, shared a tragic tale: his parents and siblings perished in a strike while trying to escape El Fasher. With a broken foot, he bravely walked alone to the city’s northern gates, where other fleeing individuals helped him onto a truck bound for Tawila.
“Now I’m completely alone,” he whispered. “At night, I just try to find groups of people and sleep on the ground near them for some sense of safety.”
His simple plea: “I hope someone helps me.”