logo
Hundreds Of Sudanese Refugees In Cairo Take Up Chance To Return Home For Free

Hundreds Of Sudanese Refugees In Cairo Take Up Chance To Return Home For Free

On a sweltering Monday morning at Cairo's main railway station, hundreds of Sudanese families stood waiting, with bags piled at their feet and children in tow, to board a train bound for a homeland shattered by two years of war.
The war is not yet over, but with the army having regained control of key areas and life in Egypt often hard, many refugees have decided now is the time to head home.
"It's an indescribable feeling," said Khadija Mohamed Ali, 45, seated inside one of the train's ageing carriages, her five daughters lined beside her.
"I'm happy that I'll see my neighbours again -- my family, my street," she told AFP ahead of her return to the capital Khartoum, still reeling from a conflict that has killed tens of thousands and displaced more than 14 million.
She was among the second group of refugees travelling under Egypt's voluntary return programme, which offers free transportation from Cairo to Khartoum, more than 2,000 kilometres away by train and bus.
The first convoy left a week earlier.
The programme is a joint effort between the Egyptian National Railways and Sudan's state-owned arms company Defence Industries System, which is covering the full cost of the journey, including tickets and onward bus travel from Egypt's southern city of Aswan to the Sudanese capital.
The Sudanese army is keen for the refugees to return, in part to reinforce its control over recently recaptured areas and as a step towards normality.
Each Monday, a third-class, air-conditioned train departs Cairo carrying hundreds on a 12-hour journey to Aswan before they continue by bus across the border.
At precisely 11:30 am, a battered locomotive rumbled into the station and women broke into spontaneous ululation.
But while some Sudanese are returning home, many continue to flee their homeland, which has been ravaged by war and famine.
According to a June report from the UN's refugee agency UNHCR, over 65,000 Sudanese crossed into Chad in just over a month.
Crossings through Libya, one of the most dangerous routes to Europe, have increased this year, according to the Mixed Migration Center.
The war, which began in April 2023, pits army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan against his erstwhile ally Mohamed Hamdan Daglo, who leads the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF).
The fighting first erupted in Khartoum and quickly spread, triggering one of the world's worst humanitarian crises, according to the United Nations.
Earlier this year, Sudan's army declared it had fully retaken Khartoum. Since then, a trickle of returnees has begun.
Last week, the country's new prime minister, Kamil Idris, made his first visit to the capital since the conflict began, promising that "national institutions will come back stronger than before".
The UN has predicted that more than two million people could return to greater Khartoum by the end of the year, though that figure depends heavily on improvements in security and public infrastructure.
The capital remains a fractured city. Its infrastructure has been decimated, health services remain scarce and electricity is still largely out in many districts.
"Slowly things will become better," said Maryam Ahmed Mohamed, 52, who plans to return to her home in Khartoum's twin city of Omdurman with her two daughters.
"At least we'll be back at home and with our family and friends," she told AFP.
For many, the decision to return home is driven less by hope than by hardship in neighbouring countries like Egypt.
Egypt now hosts an estimated 1.5 million Sudanese refugees, who have limited access to legal work, healthcare and education, according to the UNHCR.
Hayam Mohamed, 34, fled Khartoum's Soba district with her family to Egypt 10 months ago when the area was liberated, but was in ruins.
Though services remain nearly non-existent in Khartoum, Mohamed said she still wanted to leave Egypt and go home.
"Life was too expensive here. I couldn't afford rent or school fees," Mohamed said.
Elham Khalafallah, a mother of three who spent seven months in Egypt, also said she struggled to cope.
She's now returning to the central Al-Jazirah state, which was retaken by the army late last year and is seen as "much safer and having better services than Khartoum".
According to the UN's International Organization for Migration, about 71 percent of returnees were heading to Al-Jazirah, southeast of the capital, while fewer than 10 percent were going to Khartoum.
Just outside the Cairo station, dozens more were sitting on benches, hoping for standby tickets.
"They told me the train was full," said Maryam Abdullah, 32, who left Sudan two years ago with her six children.
"But I'll wait. I just want to go back, rebuild my house, and send my children back to school," she told AFP. The journeys are being paid for by a state-owned Sudanese arms company AFP Life has proved hard for many refugees in Egypt, where they struggle to find work AFP The capital Khartoum and the central Al-Jazirah state hvae both been restored to army control AFP
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Turkmenistan's Methane-spewing 'Gateway To Hell' Loses Its Anger
Turkmenistan's Methane-spewing 'Gateway To Hell' Loses Its Anger

Int'l Business Times

time18 hours ago

  • Int'l Business Times

Turkmenistan's Methane-spewing 'Gateway To Hell' Loses Its Anger

People go to the "Gateway to Hell" gas crater in the middle of the Turkmenistan desert expecting an angry cauldron but are now coming away unimpressed. Once a giant uncontrollable pit of red flames and glowing red embers, the 70-metre (230 feet) wide hole is now just a charred cauldron with only a few pockets of small fires. After letting it burn for 50 years, authorities in the reclusive Central Asian state have finally moved to put out the fire, which spews huge quantities of methane into the atmosphere. "I'm a little disappointed," said Irina, 35, who travelled five hours north from the capital Ashgabat to get to see what she thought would be an inferno in the Karakum desert. "On the internet we saw impressive pictures of burning flames. Now we realise they were old photos and videos. The reality is different," she told AFP. Reducing the fire is an important step for Turkmenistan's climate ambitions. The world's biggest methane emitter through gas leaks, according to the International Energy Agency, it has committed to cutting greenhouse gas emissions. But putting out the fire means killing off the Darvaza gas crater as the country's top tourist attraction. Several nearby wells have been drilled to reduce the flow of gas. "Whereas before a huge glow from the blaze was visible from several kilometres away, hence the name 'Gateway to Hell', today only a faint source of combustion remains," Irina Luryeva, a director at state-owned energy company Turkmengaz, told a conference in June. The road from Ashgabat to the crater is covered with cracks and potholes, making the journey for would-be tourists treacherous. "You have to swerve round the potholes and sand dunes, risking your life," driver Aman, 28, told AFP at a gas station on the way. The desert covers some 80 percent of the country and sees temperatures soar to more than 50C in summer and plunge to minus 20C in the winter. It is also home to vast natural resources, with Turkmenistan estimated to have the world's fourth largest gas reserves. It was Soviet scientists, exploring the region's potential, who set the crater on fire after they accidentally drilled into an underground pocket of gas in 1971. "There was a danger of poisoning the local population and farm animals, so the geologists decided to set it on fire, hoping that it would soon burn out," said Turkmen geologist Anatoly Bushmakin. "However, the crater is still burning," he added. Under long-time president, now 'father-of-the-nation', Gurbanguly Berdymukhamedov, Turkmenistan had flipped between wanting to tame the crater or use it to boost tourism to the isolated country. In 2022, Berdymukhamedov finally ordered it be extinguished completely -- citing both environmental and economic concerns. It "has a negative impact on both the environment and the health of people living nearby," he said. "Valuable natural resources are being lost, the export of which could generate significant profits and be used to improve the well-being of our people," he added. Turkmenistan has also signed up to the Global Methane Pledge, which aims for a 30-percent global reduction in methane emissions by 2030. But not everybody is on board with the plan. Locals that relied on the the draw of the pit's spectacular appearance for their income are worried. "If Darvaza stops burning completely, many tourist companies will lose income," said Ovez Muradov, 43, who works in a tour agency in Ashgabat. The Gateway to Hell was one of the only tourist attractions in Turkmenistan, one of the most closed and repressive countries in the world, according to rights groups. The country sees hardly any foreign visitors, though leaders have talked up the prospects of boosting numbers. Muradov said extinguishing the fire would douse those ambitions. "I'm no expert, but I don't think the extinguished crater will have much impact on the environment, but the tourism industry will lose a significant chunk of income." Reducing the fire is an important step for Turkmenistan's climate ambitions AFP Soviet scientists set the crater on fire in 1971 after they accidentally drilled into a pocket of gas AFP The pit used to be a cauldron of angry flames visible from kilometres away AFP

Lavish 'Grand Mariage' Weddings Celebrate Comoros Tradition, Society
Lavish 'Grand Mariage' Weddings Celebrate Comoros Tradition, Society

Int'l Business Times

time21 hours ago

  • Int'l Business Times

Lavish 'Grand Mariage' Weddings Celebrate Comoros Tradition, Society

It is wedding season in the Comoros, when the diaspora return to the tiny Indian Ocean islands for days-long celebrations that mark an essential rite of passage, the "Grand Mariage". The elaborate, tradition-infused ceremonies -- which can be held years after an initial religious wedding -- are most often held in July and August, coinciding with the summer holidays in France which has a significant community of Comorian migrants. On a recent day in July, Badjanani Square in central Moroni -- the capital of the mainly Muslim nation off East Africa -- was packed with hundreds of people attending a prayer ceremony ahead of the "Grand Mariage" (French for "Big Wedding") of a couple based in the central French city of Le Mans. The groom, 55-year-old Issa Mze Ali Ahmed, made his entrance in style, dressed in a turban and robes lined with golden cloth. Accompanied by men from his extended family, he took his seat for the prayers among rows of men, many wearing the traditionally embroidered mharuma scarf denoting their distinguished status. The dowry intended for Ahmed's bride was officially announced and he was saluted by ululating women resplendent in glitzy headscarves and dresses. Elsewhere on the Grande Comore, the largest of the nation's three islands, it was the big day for a couple based on the French territory of Reunion about 1,600 kilometres (1,000 miles) further east into the Indian Ocean. In a family home in the town of Tsidje in the hills just outside Moroni, men helped the groom, 42-year-old Faid Kassim, put on a handmade black velvet coat embroidered with gold threads. Accompanied by an entourage of family and friends and with an umbrella held over him, Kassim walked to the family home of his wife -- whom he first married in 2012 -- in a procession preceded by drummers and displaying cases of gold ornaments and jewellery as dowry. "It's an accomplishment," Kassim told AFP. "I really wanted to carry out this ceremony to honour traditions, parents and the in-laws." It can often take a couple several years after their first wedding, called the "Petit Mariage", to accumulate the money required to host the second, more lavish event. But, as costly as it is, the ceremony is valued for sealing the social status of a couple in the hierarchy of their community, said anthropologist Damir Ben Ali. "It marks the end of a period of social apprenticeship," Ali said. "It means that a person has followed all the rules that allow him to have some responsibility in the community ... for making decisions concerning the community." A "Grand Mariage" can cost a couple their entire life savings, said Ali, who found in research in 2009 that the financial outlay then ranged between 6,000 and 235,000 euros. "It has surely increased since then," he said. The spending is staggering for a nation where 45 percent of the population of under 900,000 people lives below the poverty line of around 100 euros a month, according to the National Statistics Institute. Remissions from the diaspora account for 30 percent of the national GDP. The sumptuous attire worn by couples at the ceremonies reflect the outfits worn by sultans before the Comoros became a French protectorate in the 19th century, said Sultan Chouzour, author of the 1994 book, "The Power of Honour". "The ceremony is akin to enthroning a new king," he said. "Here, everyone can be a sultan." Kassim's procession to the home of his 41-year-old bride, Faizat Aboubacar, illustrated the Comoros' matrilineal system and its practice of matrilocality in which husbands move into the communities of their wives. Aboubacar was overjoyed after her special day. "I am surrounded by my loved ones and that is all that matters. It is a beautiful moment," she said. The event announces to society that a woman's social status has improved, said Farahate Mahamoud, one of the guests. "She will be treated as a dignitary wherever she goes. At all ceremonies, she will have the right to speak," Mahamoud said. Aboubacar's mother-in-law was proud that the couple had returned to the Comoros to uphold one of its pillar traditions. "A continuation of our customs is a great joy -- especially for children who were born in France, raised in France, educated in France or working in France to accept doing what we, as parents and grandparents, did," said Maria Amadi. "It's an accomplishment," Kassim told AFP. "I really wanted to carry out this ceremony to honour traditions, parents and the in-laws." AFP The elaborate, tradition-infused ceremonies are most often held in July and August, coinciding with the summer holidays in France which has a significant community of Comorian migrants AFP It can often take a couple several years after their first wedding, called the "Petit Mariage", to accumulate the money required to host the second, more lavish event AFP The spending is staggering for a nation where 45 percent of the population of under 900,000 people lives below the poverty line AFP Kassim's procession to the family home of his 41-year-old bride, Faizat Aboubacar, reflected the matrilineal system of the Comoros and its matrilocality, in which husbands move into the communities of their wives. AFP

Dutch Windmill Village Churned By Overtourism Debate
Dutch Windmill Village Churned By Overtourism Debate

Int'l Business Times

time2 days ago

  • Int'l Business Times

Dutch Windmill Village Churned By Overtourism Debate

With its historic windmills and gabled wooden houses nestling by a meandering river, the picture-perfect and TikTok-famous area of Zaanse Schans is a must-see for any visitor to the Netherlands. But the village of centuries-old buildings near Amsterdam has become "a national symbol of overtourism", according to local authorities, who now want to charge a hotly contested entrance fee. The fierce debate over the 17.50-euro ($20) ticket planned for next year comes during a global backlash against mass tourism that has seen hotspots like Venice charge for day trips. On a glorious summer day when AFP visited, long queues for the world-famous windmills snaked outside the doors and crowds shuffled over bridges, waiting in line for Instagram-ready snaps of the bucolic scenery. Buses disgorge scores of day-tripping tourists all day long, packing into a relatively small area that is public and free to visit -- for now. The council in nearby Zaanstad says the fee is vital to preserve the heritage buildings, which are coming under "severe pressure" from high tourist numbers. "For several years now, the Zaanse Schans has been a national symbol of overtourism," said alderman Wessel Breunesse. Around 2.6 million tourists visited last year, a figure set to rise to three million in coming years if nothing is done, the council says. An entrance fee could reduce the annual volume to around 1.8 million and bring in millions of euros to preserve these historic buildings. "Doing nothing is not an option. Without sufficient resources for adequate maintenance, the heritage will be lost in the short term (five to seven years)," said the council in a statement sent to AFP. What many tourists do not know until they arrive is that while many of the buildings date from the 16th century, the site itself is a recent and artificial oddity. After World War II, traditional timber construction was in danger of dying out for good. Eager to preserve this slice of history, local mayor Joris in 't Veld came up with a plan: he would uproot the houses and relocate them to a new protected site. The first mill arrived in 1955, the first house a few years later. Eventually, the "Zaanse Schans" site was famous enough to be officially "opened" by Queen Juliana in 1972. "The Zaanse Schans was never conceived as the international crowd-puller it is today, attracting millions of visitors from all over the world," noted alderman Breunesse. But for local resident and businesswoman Ingrid Kraakman, the plan to charge an entrance fee would spell disaster, both as a citizen and for the cheese shop in which she works. "As a resident from this area, I don't want to live behind a fence... that's not OK," the 62-year-old told AFP from her 17th-century home in the heart of Zaanse Schans. Kraakman and her husband Ko have lived in the area for 33 years and believe an entrance fee would be a death blow for the local economy and jobs. "There's a lot of fear," she said, estimating that around 80 percent of the local economy is dependent on tourism. Her cheese shop is brimming with tourists, attracted by free samples and souvenirs, but she said the fee would be a major drag on spending. A family of four would already be paying around 80 euros with parking, reducing their budget for on-site purchases, she noted. "They don't buy cheese. They don't buy clocks. They buy a souvenir or maybe the smallest cheese there is," she told AFP. The Kraakmans have collected more than 2,000 signatures for a referendum on the issue, but their push has so far fallen on deaf ears in the town hall. Aware of some local hostility, the council has pledged the site will stay free for locals and that there will be no physical fence around the area. Although the plans are for next year, an amendment was introduced to allow for the possibility of delays. Now 2026 seems too short a deadline -- a "moonshot", said one local official on condition of anonymity. Most tourists said the trip would be worth it even if they had to pay. Spanish visitor Robert Duque told AFP: "It's a lovely place but sometimes it's too crowded and you don't really get to enjoy the full experience." The 35-year-old operations manager said he would welcome the entrance fee to crimp tourist volumes. "I think it's good, so we can stagger the arrival of guests and we can enjoy the facilities more," said Duque. The village's picturesque buildings draw millions of visitors a year AFP Tourists photograph a windmill at Zaanse Schans, near Amsterdam, on July 31, 2025. The TikTok-famous village may soon charge an entry fee as officials cite rising overtourism. AFP Local officials want to reduce the crowds AFP

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store