Short Story: Khartoum Feels Closer Than Ever

By Brigadier (Ret.) Omar Mohammed Othman

It was midday at a small café in a neighbouring country. A’id sat with his friend Muhajir, sipping coffee together.

A’id: I’m an optimist. I believe going back to Khartoum is both a necessity and a responsibility.

Muhajir: I’m more of a pessimist. Honestly, I feel like there’s no hope left.

A’id: Look, Muhajir, Khartoum isn’t just dust and buildings. Our souls, stories, and memories are in every street and alley. Khartoum is calling us back, mate.

Muhajir (laughing sarcastically): Calling us? Do you want us to pack up the kids and go back tonight? You’ve seen the house – it’s been looted. The market’s a wreck. There’s no water, no electricity. No police, no safety. What exactly are we going back to?

A’id: I’m not talking about rushing into a personal decision overnight. I’m talking about the principle. Every family has its own circumstances, of course. But where possible, at least one person should go back — open the house, sweep the yard, check on things. This country won’t recover unless we help it stand again.

Muhajir: A’id, let’s be real — safety is everything. We didn’t leave on a whim. We fled our homes because it wasn’t safe. No one abandons their house unless they fear for their life or their loved ones’.

A’id: I totally agree — nothing comes before people’s safety. But now, the risks are a lot lower. The police have returned, and stations are reopening and starting to function again.

Muhajir (more serious now): Let’s think logically. Even for the police, this whole situation is too big. The country’s still unstable, and there are still armed men roaming about.

A’id: You’re right. The challenges are huge — no one’s denying that. But you know what, Muhajir? The police have gained new confidence and experience from the war. They seem serious about restoring order. What’s more, they’ve made it clear: security isn’t just their responsibility — it’s everyone’s. They’ve started something called community policing.

Muhajir (puzzled): See, that’s the kind of thing that throws me off… Community policing? I can’t wrap my head around all these new ideas.

A’id (laughs): Don’t worry, mate. It’s simple. Community policing just means the police work alongside the public — shoulder to shoulder. Like the old neighbourhood patrols we used to do, but now coordinated with the police. One of their officers even joins in. Everyone works together to protect their community.

Muhajir: So it’s like us and the police, side by side?

A’id: Exactly. That’s the only way we’ll breathe life back into Khartoum. We can’t just sit around waiting for things to get better. We have to be part of the change. Who are we, if not Khartoum’s own people? And if we don’t return — then who will?

Muhajir (with a tinge of sorrow): A’id… you know that in my neighbourhood, water and electricity were cut off on day one of the war? Since the first gunshot, the homes have been in darkness. People fetch water from miles away… So, what exactly are we going back to?

A’id (nodding with understanding): I know, mate. We’re all in the same boat. But here’s some good news — the state authorities are working. The utility departments too. Teams have gone into the liberated areas. They’re repairing the grids and restarting the stations bit by bit.

Muhajir: But they won’t get far if people don’t go back.

A’id (quickly): Exactly! That’s the point. We need people to return — to follow up, to help however they can. Even if it’s just sweeping in front of the house, reporting faults, fixing a broken door… Every little action counts.

Muhajir (chuckling): So we’re going back to rebuild it brick by brick?

A’id (smiling): Precisely. Bit by bit, the neighbourhood returns, the street comes alive, and the people come back. Instead of waiting for the government to do everything, we become the starting point.

A’id: You know, Muhajir, if we don’t go back, then without meaning to — we’ll have helped the militias achieve one of their goals.

Muhajir: What do you mean? What have we got to do with their goals?

A’id: This war had many aims. One of them was forced displacement — changing the demographics, occupying our homes, and imposing a new reality.

Muhajir (in a confused tone): Well… I guess. But at least the army’s kicked them out now.

A’id: True, the army pushed them out. But they’re not going to stand guard over every house. The army’s got bigger tasks ahead. And if your house stays empty — there’s no guarantee someone else won’t move in.

Muhajir (gazing outside, saddened): There’s really nothing quite like going home… It’s a feeling like no other.

A’id (hopefully): Exactly. Returning isn’t just a word. Khartoum is waiting for us. And if we don’t go back — how will the city come back to life? It’s not just concrete — it’s our soul and our story.

Muhajir (sighs): Not everyone feels that need to return… This war has taken so much from us. But like you say, maybe Khartoum really does need us.

A’id (firmly): Muhajir, going back isn’t optional — it’s a duty. If we don’t return, we’re helping them win, while they sit back and watch.

Muhajir (fearfully): I get it… But if we go back, we’ll still face big problems, won’t we?

A’id (pensively): Of course. The challenges are real. But the most important thing is to face them — together.

Muhajir (looking into the distance): So… returning to Khartoum won’t be easy. But maybe — just maybe — it’s possible.

A’id (smiling): There’s always hope. And hope is where the journey begins.

Shortlink: https://sudanhorizon.com/?p=5163