Community organizer Mohamed Koubbani speaks into a microphone at a protest in London, wearing silver sunglasses and a light green and black jacket. Behind him, a man is holding up a Sudanese flag.
“People think that organizing isn’t fun. But honestly, it’s been great, because the people at Madaniya are amazing souls. We don’t realize that there are so many people already doing the work.” - Mohamed “Momo” Koubbani
Photo by Sadatu Futa - IG: @sadatu.futa, courtesy of Madaniya.

“It’s a beautiful struggle" — Lessons From Sudanese Community Organizers

Community activists for Sudanese liberation say addressing feelings of guilt and shame can pave the way for stronger collective action.

After Donald Trump's re-election,advice onorganizing in activesolidarity surged online, anticipating a conservative crackdown not only in the U.S. but also globally.

Sudan is facing one of the world's worst hunger crises caused by the ongoing war. Despite this dire situation, the country has a strong tradition of mutual support even as the international community remains largely silent. "It's in our lifestyle to look after our community," Mohammed Koubani, a Sudanese resident of London, tells OkayAfrica.

Koubani is a community organizer and co-founder ofMadaniya, a London-based group formed in response to the December Revolution of 2019. They organize protests, action plans, and healing spaces for people to connect over a shared vision and responsibility for a better world. "During the revolution, we looked to Sudan for inspiration," he says. "Now, we have to change tactics."

Having honest conversations about guilt and shame

"Having a kleptocratic state, civil society was keeping Sudan afloat even before the war," says Dr. Eva Khair, founder and director of the Sudan Transnational Consortium, an international network of Sudanese professionals conducting peace-building and advocacy. "The diaspora plays a big role in that; they pay for the health and education of loved ones, build houses, mosques and schools."

Dr. Khair is a physician, global health consultant, and humanitarian health consultant who has been working on issues related to democracy, human rights and governance in Sudan since 2013. She calls this cultural practice of unpaid labor the "diaspora's double shift." Dr. Khair acknowledges the Sudanese diaspora as the country's 19th state, just like the African Union calls the African diaspora the continent's sixth region.

Photo courtesy of Madaniya.

June 3, 2024 - A vigil to honor the martyrs of the June 3 massacre that happened in Khartoum in 2019.

When the war broke out, many diasporans were overwhelmed with despair. "They're exhausted, but they hardly talk about it," she says. "There is a sense of shame and guilt in admitting 'it's too hard.'"

The current cost of living and housing crises leave many young people unable to sustain the financial support their parents upheld for decades. In this shifting landscape, organizers must address the respectability politics that represent a significant obstacle to sustainable community work.

"We need to have more frank conversations," says Koubani. "At Madaniya, we try to change this culture by starting conversations about how people are feeling, giving them grace and listening to them when they're struggling."

Stay flexible so that everyone can play a part

The war caused the biggest displacement crisis in the world, requiring Sudanese to rediscover themselves in relation to their rapidly changing community. While this may challenge established identities, it also presents opportunities to innovate collective knowledge.

Inspired by solidarity practices within the community and the diaspora, the New York City-based collective Sunduq al-Sudan began organizing to support grassroots efforts at the beginning of 2024. Modeled after a popular mutual aid mechanism called alsunduq (Arabic for "the box"), which rotates community savings among its members, they raise funds and distribute them to local initiatives that provide food and medical assistance.

"It's difficult to work against a system of bureaucracy that wasn't built for us," says Bayadir Mohamed-Osman, a project manager and poet. "We started Sunduq to bring attention to [local] efforts, many of which are not considered 'donor friendly' because they don't have finance officers or bank accounts. It's clear that these groups are highly effective and uniquely accountable to their communities."


Like Madaniya, the collective uses artistry to conjure a future of peace and justice. In June, in Kampala, where hundreds of thousands of Sudanese are now displaced, they organized Festival Al Sha'ab, an arts festival dedicated to knowledge sharing and healing.

"The best part of my role is working with locals and artists because they are innovative, resourceful and most knowledgeable about the issues and solutions," says Mohamed-Osman, echoing Dr. Khair and Koubani in their conviction that everyone has a unique place in the community and that all talents can be adapted to collective world-building.

Collaborative action is the best way to sustain hope

Organizing shields Koubani from the loneliness and isolation many suffer in individualistic Western societies. "Organizing inspires you; it gives you energy," he says. "It's like taking your mind to the gym and exercising confidence, belief, hope, patience and communication skills."

Dr. Khair grew up in a politically active family that has devoted generations to the cause of Sudan. "Organizing is what it means to be Sudanese," she says. At the same time, she understands her activism in the broader context of anti-oppression struggles around the world. She believes uniting and strategizing is the most effective way to create change.

"[The youth] automatically work together to build bridges," she says. "Not just with each other, but with other generations and with communities that aren't traditionally from the north and center, which I've never seen in the previous generation of organizers."

Photo by Mohamed Koubani, courtesy of Madaniya.

Whether in the fight to keep their hard-won freedoms or to stay alive, hope is necessary for many. Dr. Khair and Koubani stress that "taking charge in shaping our world is the best antidote to despair."

"People who don't recognize the struggle often ask, 'Why am I sad and lonely?'" says Dr. Khair. "Activists are woke enough to see the struggle and pick the flag that suits their motive. [Instead of being sad,] they're angry and busy. That's the sweet spot you have to be. Nothing about this is easy, but it's a beautiful struggle."

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