by Reem Abbas
–Sudan–
I wait for her on Wednesdays. She comes in the afternoon and spends about two hours ironing my shirts, my grandmother’s dresses, and the bed sheets. I hand her a bucket of ice along with her money. They do not have a fridge and in the scorching heat of Sudan, cold water should not be a luxury. Her name is Fatima. She is a displaced woman from Darfur.
After the war broke out in 2003, many families in Darfur were forced to flee their towns and move to the national capital Khartoum and the surrounding cities. Hundreds of thousands moved north and became part of a sizable internally displaced persons (IDPs) population.
In early 2003 rebels from Darfur, in west Sudan, took up arms against the Sudanese government to protest decades of marginalization. Darfur, a region the size of France, was considered underdeveloped – even by Sudanese standards. The government’s reaction was brutal, and to combat the attacks by the two rebel groups – the Justice and Equality Movement (JEM) and the Sudan Liberation Army (SLA) – they armed equally poor nomads from other tribes in the region. Plagued by drought and famine, igniting a civil war was simple.
Although the Sudanese government has denied supporting the Janjaweed, the official name of the armed militias, it has been accused of providing logistical and financial support as well as orchestrating attacks on a number of villages. The UN estimates that at least 300,000 civilians have been killed from starvation or attacks and the conflict is internationally known as one of the largest man-made humanitarian crises in the world. Currently the number of IDPs living in camps in Darfur is estimated at 2.7 million.
I was first introduced to Fatima in 2006. My mother signed a land-lease agreement with her husband to live on a plot of land belonging to my grandfather situated right in front of our house in Omdurman, a city in central Sudan. Fatima and her husband constructed a makeshift house made of cartons and zinc where they live with their seven children.
Fatima’s husband works as a builder, and earns an average of 30 pounds or $13 USD per day. Work is inconsistent. To support their large household, Fatima works several jobs – she cleans houses, does all the washing and ironing for two football teams twice a week, and sometimes women in the neighborhood hire her as a cook. When there is a celebration, she is an expert in henna drawing.
In Khartoum, it is almost impossible for men to support their households on their low wages. Most displaced men from Darfur are stuck in low-paying jobs doing manual work and getting paid a fixed wage every day. Women, however, can work several part-time jobs and earn money per hour. It is easier for women to find better paying jobs than their low skilled and poorly educated partners because the jobs they fill do not require an education or special skills. The displaced women cater to middle-class or upper-class working women who need help in their households and with beauty services such as waxing.
Soad, the main breadwinner in her household, earns more money in a week than her husband does in an entire month. She moved to Bahri, a neighboring city in greater Khartoum, a few years ago when she married her husband, a soldier from North Sudan.
When she moved into her husband’s family house in Bahri, she found herself living in a hostile environment. His family discriminated against her because she was from Darfur, and they never made her feel welcome. Living with her in-laws, she was reminded that Darfurians are second-class citizens in the North.
Soad’s husband was always on duty and she spent many lonely nights in the tiny room they were given. When she became pregnant a few months into the marriage, they were happy and worried at the same time. Her husband makes 300 pounds a month ($130 USD), barely enough for food.
Without her husband’s approval, Soad decided to start working in her neighborhood. She circulated news around the area that she was available to wax, scrub, and give facials to women. She became the area’s walking beauty salon. The services were convenient for women who did not want to leave the house.
Her husband’s sister refused to baby-sit her newborn, a baby boy called Ahmed. She looked down upon Soad because of her ethnicity and was ashamed of her career choice. Soad persevered and carried her newborn with her to work.
Gradually, her business expanded and she moved into her own place. Her husband, despite his initial disapproval couldn’t stop her from working. He knows too well that he can’t support his wife and child on his salary.
The Northerners in Sudan feel as if their region has been invaded by IDPs. They dislike how Darfurians are spreading their culture. The fact that they have established businesses means they are staying for a long time. Since the government is heavily censoring information about the conflict in Darfur, the Sudanese public knows very little and holds preconceived ideas based on the national hierarchy of tribes.
Historically, Darfur and South Sudan were not part of Sudan until the 20th century. South Sudan was part of British East Africa, and Darfur was part of Chad. In the early 20th century, the British annexed Darfur and haphazardly formed a country called Sudan. The British favored the Northerners, descendants of the ancient Nubians. They were the most educated, and they wholeheartedly believed in their cultural and ethnic superiority.
Today’s ruling elite and the educated middle class is mainly from the North, from the three most powerful tribes. Tribes from Darfur and the south are discriminated against and not considered Sudanese. They are seen as ethnically distinct or even of Chadian origin, making it difficult for the Sudanese public to sympathize with them. The conflict in Darfur is happening in a faraway place and as long as the Northerners are not directly affected by it, it is not seen as a problem.
About the Author:
Reem Abbas is a Sudanese journalist. She graduated from the American University in Cairo with a BA in journalism and mass communications and a minor in sociology. As a journalist, she writes about humanitarian issues from a gender-sensitive perspective. Ms. Abbas contributed a chapter to Voices in Refuge, a book published by the American University in Cairo press in January 2010. In her free time, she reads Doris Lessing and collects bookmarks.
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