Third displacement without destination

Ameer Babiker Abdalla
In the conclusion of the novel "Christ Is Stiffening Again" by Greek novelist Nikos Kzantzakis, Pastor Fotis raises his hand and gives a signal of departure and exclaims: In the name of Jesus Christ, the march out begins again, encourage my children. Once again, they resume their endless march, even the faces of which may be the fringe of the bright.

So I had to sharpen my memory to recover the details of that extravagant novel that I read more than a decade ago, and in such circumstances that we are now living in a constant state of displacement. This situation, which I have tried to ignore for 14 months and has increased since the outset of the absurd war, has worked to adapt and adapt to it in the interest of sustaining life and to defeat all signs of despair or depression that can dominate and be imposed by the reality of war.

I have lived through the reality of the war since its inception, and I have seen with my own eyes the preoccupations of its beginnings before it kicks off. I saw the magnitude of the destruction caused and the bodies of the dead, and I watched the displaced people from East Nile fleeing from Hell on the Al-Alifun Civilian Road in its early days and then stretching it out of time and space.

I had to stay together to see things clearly, I am not just responsible for myself but for my small and extended family, especially since I lived through the experience of war and its secretions three decades ago, although it is not compared to what is happening now.

Experience taught me not to give in to reality, but also to take advantage of everything that is negative in favor of what is positive, but to adapt it in favor of the positive. This may have been the secret of calm and tranquillity with which I have dealt so far with the war, along with the absolute certainty of God and his command and that "only what God has written to us will befall us."

I followed the absurd deaths and the horrendous violations that accompanied this damning war, the continued displacement travels west and east, north and south, and the stories of asylum from which the Sudanese made nothing but humiliation and humiliation owing to the whims and desires of sick and distorted political and military leaders who launched the Gul of War and still spread their poison to inflame its fire.

I followed it up with the eyes of the journalist and the experimentator, and I decided to call on all my abilities to stop it from day one, and not to drift behind the disinformation, trepidation and intimidation campaigns that filled the sky of Media and perverted the ground in violation of the rights of the plaintiffs to stop it and seek to spread the spirit of peace. It has endeavoured to expose the violations it has accompanied to the extent possible and their consequences for citizens.

But what happened in Sanja was what referred my memory to Xantzax and his lavish novel "Christ Is Stiffening Again," which mediates my library at home. On this occasion my entire house was "lipped" months ago, I stole the cart first and then all the contents of the house and the looters didnt even leave the entrance doors and rooms, everything was everything, and they just left the structure of the house and my library with its full contents and elegance filling the place despite its emptiness. It still stands tongue-in-cheek for cynical ignorance and misinformation campaigns, proving that it is the consciousness that will ultimately hold and that no ignorance will be defeated.

Yes; What happened in Senjah was what made me pick that narrative out of my librarys memory shelves and I follow the displacement flights from it and Sinnar by phoning those I knew, on social media platforms and on the news, Specifically, the story of a young man displaced and his family from Khartoum to the island, from Sennar to Dunder And from where I dont know, but maybe Gedaref or others like Pastor Fotis, who has taken his long career looking for security and food for them.

Hes probably a medical student or a medical graduate, his Facebook account as Mamdouh Siddiq. He recorded on his page that he was asleep on June 29 at the time of the nap and woke up to the sounds of flying, and spoke of the panic and panic they suffered while in Sinnar, agreeing with his people to get out of the city. He did not sleep his night Zhou expected to enter rapid support for the city of Sennar at any moment.

On 30 June I woke up early, and he and his family took advantage of the bus that moved at 9 a.m. to Suki City. The reservoir bridge was crowded, forcing it to stop for five hours until it crossed to the other side. The bus arrived after Sukki Morocco and continued its journey to the city of Dunder, which arrived at 9 p.m. ".

Dinder is a ghost town; No electricity, no water, no eating, a huge amount of vehicles and displaced people from Sinja, Sennar and all of Sennar State. The sounds of children crying hunger and the narrow morals of everyone "personally clashed with one of them."

"From the beginning of the city of Dunder to its end, in front of a large is a single itinerary, there is no choice but to spend the night in the Dunder. Drinking water stocks are close to running out, with two children, one diabetic, and my grandfather old. failed to get drinking water, and the dinner is a biscuit that increases the state of thirst ".

Mamdouh tried to take a break with his surname from a military post, which was collapsed by a soldier and prevented him from lying near the site. Everyone fell asleep searching the Earth and twisting dark skies like a mirror, because we are at the end of the Hijri month. It was peoples utmost ambition to go through the big tomorrow, and their worst fear was to rain down on them, or to have to stay overnight in the densely packed ghost town, paradoxically, thats another day.

On July 1, Mamdouh and everyone woke up early "or no one ever slept, no difference" he says. There is no movement, as there is no food or water, or lighting except morning sunshine. Sounds of crying, died they had a baby, did not ask Mamdouh about the cause of death. He prayed two knees and read his memories and hoped that the itinerary would move, which he did not see a horizon.

Thirst, nothing but thirst, even overwhelming hunger, is the only solution is to sip the waters of the Dunder, which is what Mamdouh did, who did not care what about him in these moments, even fell out of overdrive in a hole in the river. After recounting his thirst to discover the truth that is its centre, the land of bare buildings, hunger and thirst, and no glimmer of hope for the breakthrough of the crisis.

He found everyone busy talking about the crisis they were in and how to solve it. They agreed to move to the other side of the bridge on foot and exploit another bus from there.

Half an hour after the delegation left for the other bank, something happened that no one expected; The crowd began running without destination; RSF "pillar" entered the dinder.

Mamdouh says, "It is a third time when they broke our door in Khartoum and before they threatened to kill me, the same situation happened. In Sennar also, I am waked up my mother, every time I am afraid that I am taking her off, I am sure that she remains hatred because I have no pocket other than bad news."

He continues: "The third displacement, without destination, whom we blamed? I don’t know, all I thought was if I was just a very small detail, the complexity of complicating a very big story that I am unable to understand, I am just a collateral damage, all of us, and by asking myself, because I am surprised how little I am... "Do we have anything?"