
‘I was lying between a lorry and a train': One refugee's two-year journey from Sudan to the UK
It took Ismail two years to reach the UK from Sudan, where he fled a life defined by conflict and a constant struggle to survive.
Two years into a brutal civil war, Sudan is in the grip of what the UN has called the world's 'worst humanitarian crisis'. The latest figures from the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs show that 30.4 million people are in need of humanitarian assistance, while more than 12 million people have been displaced since April 2023.
Violence erupted in Sudan in April 2023 when long-simmering tensions between its military and paramilitary leaders broke out in the capital, Khartoum, and spread to other regions.
Ismail, 37, began his journey from the city of Al-Fashir, where he was born and raised. The city, in the Darfur region of southwestern Sudan, is now under constant bombardment and has mostly been cut off from the outside world.
The first leg of Ismail's journey took him across the Sahara, one of the world's largest and most unforgiving deserts. Along the way, the lorry carrying him and others broke down. It took around two months for Ismail to reach Libya, where tens of thousands of migrants and refugees undertake the perilous crossing to Europe across the Mediterranean Sea each year.
In Libya, Ismail paid the equivalent of around £1,000 in Libyan currency for a place on a boat to Italy. The route is one of the deadliest in the world for migrants and refugees. More than 2,200 people lost their lives attempting the crossing in 2024 alone, according to the UN.
'They have very big boats from the European Union,' Ismail told the Independent. 'They know migrants try to cross the Mediterranean.'
From there, Ismail continued his journey by train from Milan to Paris. But the final stretch—from Calais to the UK—also put his life in danger.
'There are trains that carry lorries to the UK,' he explained. 'I went to the station. The police and security didn't see me. I just jumped on and lay between a lorry and the train.'
After passing through the Channel Tunnel and arriving in Dover, Ismail was stopped by British police. He was then taken to asylum seeker accommodation in Liverpool.
By that point, he hadn't spoken to his family in more than two years. They didn't even know he had made it to the UK.
'They were very happy that I was safe and alive,' he said.
Ismail risked his life to make the journey in hopes of supporting his family, many of whom lived in Zamzam refugee camp after their home in Al-Fashir was destroyed by missile strikes.
'Even for my brothers, there is no place to go to work to bring the money, thats why I am trying to help them' he said.
But the Zamzam Refugee Camp, one of the largest in Sudan, is far from safe. It is frequently targeted by the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), a paramilitary force which evolved from so-called Janjaweed militias.
'They saw people dying in front of them,' Ismail said. 'Even people I know—my relatives—were killed in Zamzam.'
Ismail, who once worked as a kitchen porter, now has a job in a warehouse in North London. The money he's been able to send home has made a tangible difference: it helped his family buy land and build a home in Al-Fashir.
'When I got the right to work [in the UK], I managed to save some money and bought a piece of land in Al-Fashir. I built a house there. It was really good,' he said.
But the war shattered that small triumph, as his family was forced to flee the home he had worked so hard to provide.
After his five-year refugee status expired, Ismail was granted British citizenship. This allowed him to return briefly to Sudan last year, where he got married. His wife is now heavily pregnant and living in a refugee camp in Uganda, after Ismail helped her flee the violence.
'I tried to bring her here before she gives birth, but I haven't found a solution. I want her to come here and live with me forever,' he said.
Under current UK rules, refugees or people granted humanitarian protection may apply for family reunification if they were already in a relationship or had children before fleeing their country. But the process is often long, complex, and uncertain.
In the past two years, at least 24,000 people have been reported killed in Sudan, according to the UN, but activists believe the true toll is far higher. Meanwhile aid camps have been burned to the ground and children are thought to have been raped.
'People don't know what's happening in Sudan at the moment or anytime in the past, because there are no journalists to cover what's going on, so that's why,' Ismail said.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


BBC News
a day ago
- BBC News
Pray for food, Nigeria government tells its staff amid mockery
A call for all staff in Nigeria's ministry of agriculture to pray to help the country achieve food security has caused controversy. An internal memo from the head of the ministry's HR department urges staff to attend a solemn prayer session and fast for the next three Nigerians have responded by questioning the government's commitment to the task of bringing down the high cost of food. A press release from the agriculture ministry on Saturday downplayed the issue, saying the call for prayers was not an official policy to tackle food insecurity but was intended to boost staff wellbeing. "Just as the already existing monthly aerobic exercise and establishment of the gymnasium in the ministry are for physical fitness", it continued, and "as the regular medical check-ups of staff are for their health".At least 4.4 million people in Nigeria do not have enough food, according to UN estimates, with the country experiencing its worst economic crisis in a generation following policy changes brought in by the new government since ever-increasing price of basic food staples was a one of the triggers for nationwide cost-of-living protests last year. Yams, for example, quadrupled in price from one year to the see the appeal for divine intervention as proof that the government is shirking its responsibility to citizens and taking a fatalistic officials say they have taken numerous steps to tackle the crisis, including giving farmers more than 1,000 tractors and over two million bags of reaction to the call to prayer online has ranged from people saying the ministry's leadership should be replaced with pastors and imams, to simply saying "Nigeria is a joke". More BBC stories on Nigeria: Heartbreak as cash-strapped Nigerians abandon their petsPeople turn to 'throw-away' rice for foodShould I stay or should I go? The dilemma for young NigeriansWhy this professor has a second job as a welder Go to for more news from the African us on Twitter @BBCAfrica, on Facebook at BBC Africa or on Instagram at bbcafrica


The Independent
a day ago
- The Independent
‘I was lying between a lorry and a train': One refugee's two-year journey from Sudan to the UK
It took Ismail two years to reach the UK from Sudan, where he fled a life defined by conflict and a constant struggle to survive. Two years into a brutal civil war, Sudan is in the grip of what the UN has called the world's 'worst humanitarian crisis'. The latest figures from the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs show that 30.4 million people are in need of humanitarian assistance, while more than 12 million people have been displaced since April 2023. Violence erupted in Sudan in April 2023 when long-simmering tensions between its military and paramilitary leaders broke out in the capital, Khartoum, and spread to other regions. Ismail, 37, began his journey from the city of Al-Fashir, where he was born and raised. The city, in the Darfur region of southwestern Sudan, is now under constant bombardment and has mostly been cut off from the outside world. The first leg of Ismail's journey took him across the Sahara, one of the world's largest and most unforgiving deserts. Along the way, the lorry carrying him and others broke down. It took around two months for Ismail to reach Libya, where tens of thousands of migrants and refugees undertake the perilous crossing to Europe across the Mediterranean Sea each year. In Libya, Ismail paid the equivalent of around £1,000 in Libyan currency for a place on a boat to Italy. The route is one of the deadliest in the world for migrants and refugees. More than 2,200 people lost their lives attempting the crossing in 2024 alone, according to the UN. 'They have very big boats from the European Union,' Ismail told the Independent. 'They know migrants try to cross the Mediterranean.' From there, Ismail continued his journey by train from Milan to Paris. But the final stretch—from Calais to the UK—also put his life in danger. 'There are trains that carry lorries to the UK,' he explained. 'I went to the station. The police and security didn't see me. I just jumped on and lay between a lorry and the train.' After passing through the Channel Tunnel and arriving in Dover, Ismail was stopped by British police. He was then taken to asylum seeker accommodation in Liverpool. By that point, he hadn't spoken to his family in more than two years. They didn't even know he had made it to the UK. 'They were very happy that I was safe and alive,' he said. Ismail risked his life to make the journey in hopes of supporting his family, many of whom lived in Zamzam refugee camp after their home in Al-Fashir was destroyed by missile strikes. 'Even for my brothers, there is no place to go to work to bring the money, thats why I am trying to help them' he said. But the Zamzam Refugee Camp, one of the largest in Sudan, is far from safe. It is frequently targeted by the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), a paramilitary force which evolved from so-called Janjaweed militias. 'They saw people dying in front of them,' Ismail said. 'Even people I know—my relatives—were killed in Zamzam.' Ismail, who once worked as a kitchen porter, now has a job in a warehouse in North London. The money he's been able to send home has made a tangible difference: it helped his family buy land and build a home in Al-Fashir. 'When I got the right to work [in the UK], I managed to save some money and bought a piece of land in Al-Fashir. I built a house there. It was really good,' he said. But the war shattered that small triumph, as his family was forced to flee the home he had worked so hard to provide. After his five-year refugee status expired, Ismail was granted British citizenship. This allowed him to return briefly to Sudan last year, where he got married. His wife is now heavily pregnant and living in a refugee camp in Uganda, after Ismail helped her flee the violence. 'I tried to bring her here before she gives birth, but I haven't found a solution. I want her to come here and live with me forever,' he said. Under current UK rules, refugees or people granted humanitarian protection may apply for family reunification if they were already in a relationship or had children before fleeing their country. But the process is often long, complex, and uncertain. In the past two years, at least 24,000 people have been reported killed in Sudan, according to the UN, but activists believe the true toll is far higher. Meanwhile aid camps have been burned to the ground and children are thought to have been raped. 'People don't know what's happening in Sudan at the moment or anytime in the past, because there are no journalists to cover what's going on, so that's why,' Ismail said.


The Guardian
5 days ago
- The Guardian
School's nearly out for summer and there's one word on every mother's lips – help!
Everyone told me 'the juggle' would get easier when my daughter started reception this year. It was, quite simply, a lie. As any parent of a school-aged child will tell you they're hardly ever there. Mothers started exchanging panicked messages about the summer holiday in our class WhatsApp group in May, sharing links to clubs and childcare options they've already booked, which all look terrible, and possibly worse than just juggling it all at home. And I only have one child. This week, a UN report revealed that millions of people around the world are not having as many children as they would like, and I know why: yes, it's 'the high cost of parenthood', and for many of us a big part of that is paying for something to do with your offspring when school is not looking after them. One option is a gymnastic 'camp' – which is out of town, only a week long, and finishes by 3pm. I could thrust my five-year-old into a new hobby, but would it really be worth it for just a week? What about the other five of the summer holidays? Assuming I work from home, with a 9am drop-off, I could be back at my desk by 9.45 but then I would have to leave again by 2.30, which hardly seems worth it. By the time we'd got into the swing of things, the camp would have ended and I'd need a new sport lined up to take its place the following Monday. A few school mums say they've booked in with a local private school, over the English border from where I live in Wales. There's a PE teacher running something open to nearby schools, which also doesn't cover the whole holiday and would cost a fortune. The money isn't really the issue though, because even if you have money, there's nowhere to go and even the terrible options are always booked up fast. It's not like there's an amazing solution and it's just out of reach – there's truly just nothing available. And the au pair system was killed by Brexit, so that's not an option any longer either. The problem is, there's more school leave than parents are legally entitled to take from work, and we're living in a two-income economy. If two parents added both of their 5.6 weeks of leave together, and were guaranteed the leave they asked for, it still wouldn't cover the amount of school holiday – and that's assuming they never took any time off together as a family. The school calendar hasn't been updated since it was created in the Victorian era, when the way we worked and parented looked very different. To top it all, this generation of boomer grandparents don't want to help either, because they want to 'enjoy retirement' and go on holidays instead. The standard of parenting expected of us is like nothing history has ever seen. Even when families did have two working parents, like in my family, no one took time off work to look after the kids. They just didn't look after them. My grandparents would both work and leave my dad to find his own fun until dinner time, but today we would (rightly) call that child neglect. Once he was hit by a car, because he was too young to know you have to look both ways when crossing the road. He was on his way to the beach, with another child, to sail a raft he'd built. In the sea. And it's a gendered issue. I haven't seen any dads in the chat talking about solutions, because for most of them, it's not a problem. They get to go off and do their work, and attend their conferences, without worrying about it. They don't get frantic calls from their wives asking them to troubleshoot childcare problems if they dare try to leave the house. Even part-time jobs are not properly designed for parents. Part-timers who work three days a week will only be entitled to 16.8 days of leave and the school holidays take up to 13 weeks. And that's before we get into the inset days and sick days, and who covers them? (It's mothers; it's me.) It doesn't have to be this way. In other countries, like the US, they shove their children off to overnight camps for nine to 12 weeks at a time. It's not a perfect solution, but at least people can stay employed. The French, as always, seem to have it right by just taking off for the summer with their gorgeous annual leave. The most workable solution I've seen is Amazon's 'term-time' contract, which allows parents to take 10 weeks of leave a year while keeping a full-time job, with a combination of paid and unpaid holiday leave. They've been running the scheme since 2023, and the company hasn't crashed and burned yet. If only more companies could see the benefits – which include a diverse workforce filled with mothers with a host of skills companies are missing out on. Childcare is infrastructure. Just like we need roads, a public health system and transport, the country needs a childcare solution. Today's children will pay for your pensions, provide your healthcare and build your roads. But only if we make it possible for people to keep having them. Rhiannon Picton-James is a freelance journalist and opinion writer. She writes on gender, culture and society