“Our Beloved One”… Sudan Airways: Will She Ever Return?
Dr Al-Haytham Al-Kindi Yousif
At Cairo Airport, our Egyptian brothers often joke about the schedule of our national carrier. When someone asks about the arrival time of a Sudan Airways flight, the reply—delivered in their familiar dialect—is: “Are you asking about ‘the beloved one’? No… she arrives when she feels like it.”
Some may see this as a mockery of its punctuality, but they do not realise that, to us, she truly is “the beloved one”—a symbol of affection and heritage that makes us forgive her indulgences. Yet that affection does not prevent us from asking a serious question:
When will “the graceful one” reclaim her place and become the long-awaited bridge of return?
When I speak of “return,” I do not merely mean the bluebird taking flight once more in the skies of its former glory. I mean the return of millions of Sudanese from exile back to the warmth of their homeland. With signs of liberation and the restoration of security in many parts of the country, millions are preparing to pack their bags and return—a journey that requires capacity far beyond the current transport capabilities.
Here, an urgent question arises: why are private airlines (such as Badr and Tarco) succeeding while our national carrier struggles? Is it the curse of bureaucratic inertia and short-sighted governance? Or are there vested interests that benefit from the absence of a strong national airline, leaving the field open to them?
The fact that Sudan Airways operates with only a single aircraft amid such overwhelming demand is a paradox that demands serious reflection. At present, Sudan Airways has just one operational aircraft, approximately twenty years old. What, then, prevents the state from strengthening its fleet with two or three additional planes?
Financing is not the obstacle. The government could provide guarantees for deferred purchases through external banks, or adopt leasing arrangements—a widely used global model that allows gradual ownership through operational revenues.
From a practical standpoint, the market is guaranteed. We are not speaking of leisure tourism, but of a necessity-driven market involving millions of returnees—particularly the elderly, the sick, and families who prefer air travel after the end of the academic year. This is an opportunity for Sudan Airways to capitalise on these conditions as a starting point for its revival.
A strong national airline is not a luxury; it is a necessity—social and strategic before it is economic. It is the arm that supports the state in times of crisis and the refuge that preserves the dignity of the Sudanese traveller.
The reality is that current airline capacities, despite their commendable efforts, will not be able to absorb the expected wave of return in the second half of this year. This is therefore a call to the government—not only to support Sudan Airways, but also to prepare all entry points (land, sea, and air) to receive its citizens, so that congestion does not, once again, create crises, as has so often happened in the absence of proper planning.
The time has come for “the beloved one” to return to her rightful place—not only in Turbas’s song that we joyfully sing, but on the runways of international airports as a symbol of sovereignty and responsibility. The great return of the Sudanese people requires strong wings to carry them—and none will be more compassionate than the wings of Sudan Airways.
So will the state answer this call… or shall we continue singing, for a long time yet: Will she ever return?
Shortlink: https://sudanhorizon.com/?p=12309