By ABDIRIZACK ABDIRAHMAN OSMAN
Imagine Nairobi plunging into devastation overnight.
Paramilitary militias and military forces—say, the Kenya Defence Forces and General Service Unit—clash violently on the city’s highways. Explosions shatter the dawn, businesses shut down, and families scramble desperately for safety. Within weeks, the city stands nearly abandoned, its streets littered with bodies as millions flee in panic. Chaos engulfs everything, leaving behind shattered lives, and dreams reduced to rubble.
This is not a distant dystopian vision; it is the harsh reality of Khartoum, Sudan’s capital. A decade ago, during my five-years there, Khartoum was a thriving urban gem, far livelier than Nairobi at night.
Its wide, illuminated roads, elegant highways, and graceful bridges offered a stark contrast to Nairobi’s chaotic streets. The city exuded orderliness—navigation was seamless, with well-placed stops and clear traffic signs.
Khartoum’s vibrancy extended beyond its infrastructure to its residents. The warmth and hospitality of its people rivaled that of Kenyans but came with a greater sense of discipline and respect for law and order. This harmony was palpable in the peace that prevailed; in all those years, I never once experienced a robbery or theft incident.
The Sudanese took pride in their skilled professionals—teachers, engineers, and doctors—who had helped build the wealthy Gulf nations such as UAE and Saudi Arabia, particularly in the 19760s through the 1990s. Their contributions not only showcased their talent but also cemented their nation’s reputation as a cradle of expertise in the Arab world.
I witnessed some of the reasons for this pride first-hand during my time in Khartoum as part of the Kenyan diaspora, a community largely composed of students.
In 2016, I attended a town hall meeting with then-Kenyan President Uhuru Kenyatta during his brief official visit to Khartoum. Addressing the diaspora, he seemed genuinely impressed by Sudan and expressed admiration for its relatively high industrial capabilities, highlighting how they could benefit Kenya in various ways.
No wonder the slogan of Omar al-Bashir’s government at the time was: We eat what we cultivate and craft what we use. This motto underscored Sudan’s resilience and untapped potential, a nation stifled since the mid-1990s by harsh economic sanctions imposed by the West, largely in response to the Islamist influence within the upper ranks of Omar Al-Bashir’s regime.
A NATION TORN APART
On April 15, 2023, Sudan erupted into civil war, as a brutal power struggle between General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, head of the Sudan Armed Forces (SAF), and Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (Hemedti), leader of the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), spiraled out of control.
What began as a clash for dominance between two military factions quickly escalated into one of the most devastating conflicts of the modern era.
By December 2024, The International Rescue Committee declared Sudan “the site of the world’s largest humanitarian crisis on record”, with 30 million people in need of aid and the highest number of displaced individuals globally.
Moreover, reports of ethnic cleansing and systematic atrocities in some battlegrounds across the country have sent shockwaves through the international community, cementing Sudan’s plight as a defining tragedy of our time.
FROM HOPE TO HORROR
Sudan’s descent into turmoil began with a glimmer of hope. In 2018, mass protests against Omar al-Bashir’s 29-year dictatorship captured global attention. Millions of Sudanese, led by determined youth, aspired to build a nation free from oppression. Their efforts culminated in April 2019, with the overthrow of al-Bashir, a moment many believed signaled the start of a new era.
However, that hope was short-lived. The transitional government—a fragile coalition of civilian and military leaders—soon fractured, torn apart by internal power struggles reportedly fueled by competing foreign powers eager to exploit Sudan’s resources and its strategic Red Sea location.
By 2021, the situation deteriorated further. Gen al-Burhan and Gen Dagalo seized power in a coup, ousting civilian leaders and crushing the democratic aspirations of Sudan’s youth, who had spearheaded the 2019 revolution.
By April 2023, the fragile alliance between the SAF and RSF had completely disintegrated, plunging Sudan into a brutal civil war. A revolution born out of hope for freedom and democracy was hijacked by two rival military generals and their foreign backers, leaving the nation trapped in chaos, destruction, and despair.
FOREIGN POWERS IN SUDAN’S CONFLICT
Since gaining independence in 1956, Sudan has experienced multiple shifts in governance, including military coups, democratic elections, and popular uprisings.
Despite regional conflicts, the central government in Khartoum had never faced a serious threat of collapse until April.
Historically, local actors— driven by vested interests or a desire to mitigate prolonged harm —have aligned with one side or facilitated negotiations, often helping resolve conflicts.
In contrast, the current crisis is dominated by external actors with vast resources and foreign economic and geopolitical agendas, backing their chosen factions, at the destruction of Sudan and suffering of its people.
Reports indicate that key regional and international players in the Sudanese conflict include Iran, Russia, Turkey, Qatar, the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and the neighboring nations such as Chad, Ethiopia, South Sudan and Eritrea.
Observers highlight two pivotal events that reveal the profound influence of external powers in Sudan:
Turkey’s 99-Year Lease of Suakin Island
In January 2018, al-Bashir signed a contentious 99-year lease granting Turkey control of Suakin Island, a strategic hub on the Red Sea maritime route.
This decision provoked strong opposition from regional powers such as Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and the UAE, who perceived it as a direct threat to their influence in Sudan and the broader Red Sea region.
Experts believe the lease significantly contributed to the downfall of al-Bashir’s long-standing regime.
Despite surviving earlier uprisings and the Arab Spring, al-Bashir found himself increasingly isolated when Saudi Arabia and the UAE—key economic supporters of Sudan—turned against him, primarily over the Suakin Island deal. This abandonment exacerbated growing public anger over dictatorship, inflation, and soaring living costs, further fueling domestic unrest. The widespread protests ultimately escalated into mass demonstrations, culminating in his ousting in April 2019.
Al-Bashir’s ousting paved the way for al-Burhan and Dagalo, both seen — at the time— as closer allies of Saudi Arabia and the UAE. From 2019 to 2023, they held key roles as chairman and deputy of the six-member Transitional Sovereignty Council, a collective Head of State formed to govern Sudan after the fall of Omar al-Bashir.
Instead of addressing the systemic corruption and deep internal divisions that had plagued the country throughout his three-decade rule, al-Bashir attempted to offset these challenges by pitting Middle Eastern powers against one another, compelling them to compete for his loyalty in exchange for much-needed investments.
This high-stakes gamble is nearly impossible to succeed at when one fails at the less daunting task of curbing rampant corruption within their government. Consequently, it backfired, leading to the fall of his government and the collapse of the country.
UAE’s $6 billion Investment package
Four years after al-Bashir’s fall, Sudan faced another critical turning point.
In December 2022, the government, led by al-Burhan and Dagalo signed a $6 billion investment deal with the UAE to develop a port, an economic zone, among other projects.
This agreement likely heightened tensions with UAE’s regional and local adversaries, including remnants of al-Bashir’s regime, predominantly with Islamist tendencies, entrenched within the government and the Sudanese Army.
Reports suggest that some of these factions sought to deepen the power struggle between al-Burhan and his deputy, Hemedti, who is closely aligned with the UAE.
This rivalry ultimately derailed the ambitious UAE investment deal, which would have further strengthened Dagalo (Hemedti). By April 15, 2023, just four months after the above-mentioned Emirati agreement, Sudan descended into its current devastating civil war.
These developments highlight how external interests have not only shaped Sudan’s political trajectory but have also fueled internal divisions, further complicating prospects for peace.
Amid the grim realities of the conflict, recent events have offered a glimmer of cautious optimism. On December 13, 2024, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan proposed mediating between al-Burhan, and the UAE, which SAF accuses of supporting Dagalo and his RSF militia.
If Erdoğan’s proposal is genuine—beyond a potential PR maneuvor—it may signal a strategic realignment involving Turkey, Ethiopia, and the UAE, all vying for securing a direct access to the Red Sea maritime route.
This effort is strongly opposed by Egypt and Saudi Arabia, rival regional powers on the Red Sea coast. However, it is more likely that Erdoğan views this mediation as part of a broader geopolitical trade-off, using Turkey’s influence in Sudan to temporarily appease its rival, the UAE. This could involve, among other things, ensuring that the UAE refrains from undermining the fragile, Ankara-backed administration in Damascus, Syria, where Turkey’s stakes are considerably higher.
Some suggest that emerging Middle Eastern powers, often competing aggressively over the Horn of Africa, should consider organizing a conference akin to the Berlin Conference of the 1880s. While the historical context of that event differs significantly, it provided a framework for managing competing ambitions through partition.
Similarly, there is an urgent need for these Middle Eastern powers to address their growing involvement by partitioning spheres of constructive influence in the Horn of Africa. This proposal is not intended to offend Africans but to offer a pragmatic solution to prevent destructive rivalries.
As the saying goes, “If you don’t have a plan, you’ll fall into someone else’s.”
Meanwhile, on Saturday, January 11, the Sudanese army regained control of the strategic town of Wad Al-Madani, the nation’s second-largest city, which had been under RSF occupation since December 2023.
These events suggest a potential turning point, especially if the Sudanese army, in its latest operation, successfully ousts RSF from capital Khartoum, offering a faint glimmer of hope amid the chaos.
And while this may inspire optimism for an end to the violence, merely halting the war will not satisfy the Sudanese people’s profound desire for democracy. Nonetheless, it could bring much-needed relief to the millions of civilians enduring unimaginable suffering.
UNEVEN IMPACT OF WAR
The conflict in Sudan, like many similar conflicts, has laid bare stark inequalities, devastating the nation’s social fabric and economy.
While the wealthy utilized their resources to escape early to safe havens such as Dubai and London, the poor were left to bear the full weight of the violence. Trapped in war zones or forced into overcrowded camps under dire conditions, they endure unimaginable suffering, characterized by death, displacement, and the collapse of social order.
Meanwhile, Sudan’s middle class—once the economic backbone—has been devastated. Forced to abandon their livelihoods, many fled abroad, grappling with financial ruin and the collapse of public services.
While some members of the diaspora of skilled professionals and entrepreneurs have successfully integrated into host countries and may play a role in future recovery, the ongoing struggles of others underscore the widespread toll the war has taken on Sudan’s social fabric.
STORIES OF SURVIVAL
Mohamed Ibrahim, a former banker in Khartoum, spent over 20 years building a better future for his family. But the war upended everything—shuttering his bank, freezing his savings, and driving him from the home he poured his life into.
Adding to the devastation, he suffered a severe injury that led to the loss of his leg. Now destitute and physically impaired, he resides with his family in a refugee camp in Uganda.
“I used to manage people’s money every day,” he reflects on his devastating fall from stability, his voice laden with despair. “Now, disabled and broken, I stand in line for food in a refugee camp. I never thought I’d end up devastated like this, abandoned by fate.”
Fatma Hassan, a visibly traumatized young doctor who once dreamed of a thriving career, now works in a small clinic in Kampala, far from the prestigious hospital she had envisioned. Her life was irreversibly altered in 2023, when she fled Sudan after witnessing the brutal killing of her newlywed husband, a telecommunications engineer, in Khartoum.
“I never imagined enduring what I did,” she says, her voice laden with grief. “I’m not here to pursue dreams anymore, just to survive.”
SOCIAL AMENITIES DEVASTATED
The war has also devastated Sudan’s education system. Schools and universities have closed, with classrooms converted into shelters for the displaced. Students poised to graduate have abandoned their studies. Sudan’s children now suffer not just the loss of education but a profound psychological toll, with effects that will ripple through generations.
Dr. Ahmed Babiker, a law professor, fled with his family to Kenya to ensure his children could continue their education. Yet the transition has been fraught with difficulty. His daughter struggles with Kenya’s English-based curriculum, and his youngest son, once dreaming of becoming a pilot, has abandoned that ambition after witnessing the horrors of aerial bombings.
Despite immense hardship, and unlike some other displaced communities who exhibit greater vulnerability to the devastating effects of displacement, Sudanese refugees have demonstrated remarkable resilience. They rarely resort to begging or visible homelessness—a testament to the strong cultural solidarity and generosity within their society. Even in exile, they continue to support one another.
LESSONS FOR KENYA
Sudan’s sociopolitical and economic challenges in 2018 bear striking similarities to Kenya’s current situation. Both nations face struggling economies burdened by heavy debt, systemic corruption, rising public discontent, and the growing influence of foreign actors. These parallels underscore the need for vigilance, reminding Kenyans not to take their country’s stability for granted.
Kenya is a gateway to the vibrant East African market and a pillar of regional diplomacy and security. This strategic importance has attracted the interest of foreign powers, including Middle Eastern nations seeking to expand their influence in the Horn of Africa.
For example, the UAE has been making notable efforts to deepen its influence in Kenya, including the recent signing of a Comprehensive Economic Partnership Agreement (CEPA), a $1.5 billion loan offer to Kenya, a controversial gift of a luxurious jet ride to President William Ruto during his state visit to the US in May 2024, and unsuccessful attempts to secure control of Mombasa Port, while Kenya’s involvement in regional conflicts such as the Sudanese crisis and its peacekeeping operations in Somalia’s Jubaland—a region where the UAE is increasingly active—highlight Kenya’s critical role in managing Middle Eastern competition in East Africa.
Kenya could capitalize on its abundant resources, strategic location, and relative stability in a turbulent region—provided it maintains its stability and successfully addresses its challenges.
However, as the world haphazardly transitions to a multipolar order with emerging middle powers exerting greater influence, Sudan’s plight offers a grim warning for fragile yet resource-rich and strategically located nations.
Without proactive measures, Kenya risks falling victim to similar destabilizing regional forces—powers from the neighboring Middle East, which, some argue, regard the Horn of Africa much like the CIA viewed South America during the Cold War: as their backyard, a region where they feel entitled to assert dominance and flex their muscles with impunity.
For President Ruto, this underscores the importance of carefully balancing the need for economic and military partnerships with these powerful Middle Eastern countries, while safeguarding Kenya’s sovereignty and national security.
More importantly, for the country to have the capacity to do so, the President must responsibly manage local political disputes, particularly as Kenya approaches and navigates the 2027 elections.
Internal divisions, which create fragility, remain the primary factor making African nations vulnerable to external interference.
GEN Z MOVEMENT CASE
On June 25, 2024, the country teetered on the brink of turmoil after the peaceful Gen Z movement demonstrations turned violent.
The police’s attempt to use force to suppress the protests escalated the situation, amid rumors of infiltration by factions seeking to overthrow President Ruto’s government. The demonstrators eventually overpowered security forces and stormed Parliament Buildings.
This sent shockwaves through the ruling elite, as the Gen Z movement was both anti-elite and tribe-less, undermining a key tool traditionally used by the elite to maintain influence and power. It also alarmed the international community, already grappling with other civil wars in the region, as Kenya—a country in which they are heavily invested—cannot be allowed to spiral into chaos so easily.
Eventually, what appeared to be reactionary yet shrewd crisis management by the National Intelligence Service (NIS) successfully calmed the situation, steering the country away from uncharted territory and the high risk of civil war.
The NIS seemingly adopted a strategy similar to the CIA’s approach to managing populations, encouraging the ruling elite to compete and govern in an orderly manner while neutralizing threats from anarchists, potential military coups, and anti-elite movements.
To demonstrate his commitment to stability and gain the confidence of key stakeholder elites, President Ruto proposed a broad-based government that included representatives from major political blocs in Kenya. This NIS approach largely succeeded in reestablishing tribal narratives, which in Kenya carry societal weight comparable to the role of Race and ideologies in the US.
Efforts seem to be underway to align social media and local mainstream outlets—such as Daily Nation and Citizen TV—with a unified narrative, similar to how The New York Times and CNN are often seen as aligned with the interests of the ruling class. This strategy could suppress dissent while shifting or deflecting blame from the elite, as fragmented, resource-poor masses cannot effectively counter well-organized and well-funded groups controlling the narrative.
However, history offers cautionary lessons. In the US, particularly since the 2000s, and in the Soviet Union during the 1970s and 1980s, ruling elites—regardless of their strategies—succumbed to corruption and greed, the key drivers of systemic collapse.
The Soviet Union’s collapse was primarily due to economic stagnation mainly fueled by the rampant corruption of its ruling elite. Meanwhile, the US is grappling with an increasingly oligarchic system plagued by perverse corruption, posing a comparable risk. For instance, in 1995, China’s GDP was about 5% of the US’s GDP.
However, by 2023, China reportedly generated twice the electricity of the US, produced 12.6 times more steel, and manufactured 22 times more cement—cornerstone products. By 2022, China’s PPP GDP was estimated to be 125% of the US’s, highlighting economic stagnation in the United States which contributed to democratic decline and the deterioration of public services.
Given the already entrenched corruption within Kenya’s ruling elite, the question remains whether the NIS’s crisis management efforts will lead to sustained stability or simply delay inevitable challenges.
Meanwhile, the Kenyan public, particularly the Gen Z movement, must draw critical lessons from Sudan’s democratic struggles, avoid underestimating the importance of planning and organization, and remain vigilant and informed about key engagements between the Kenyan government and external powers.
They should understand that, despite their aspirations, Sudanese democratic reform movements failed to establish lasting democracy, inadvertently paving the way for a devastating civil war.
Finally, more than ever before, as we navigate this turbulent era, Kenya’s stability relies on heightened patriotic public political consciousness, the active engagement of responsible stakeholders—including both the state and civil society—and a steadfast commitment to learning from the tragic missteps of peers like Sudan.
Abdirazak Abdirahman Osman is an international relations and politics expert based in Nairobi
