March 28, 2024

Welcome to Khartoum

Rarely have a felt such a deep-seated sense of rage, as came with flying into Khartoum by night. It was the lights – the number of them, like a fairyland. These were not the kind of piecemeal lights here and there among a few locations lucky enough to have a generator. No, Khartoum is clearly ‘on the grid’.

On-the-grid: Khartoum by night

On-the-grid: Khartoum by night

As the fairlyland came into closer view and I could see cars smoothly traversing along highways I wanted to shout out to the people in them: Have you ever been outside Khartoum? And if so, how can you live here without starting a revolt?  Have you been to the rest of your country and seen how your fellow countrymen live? Without roads, electricity, running water?

Then the thought crossed my mind that anyone working on Aboriginal issues in Australia might well have the same reaction flying into Sydney or Melbourne. (It should also be noted, in hindsight, that there are plenty of areas on the outskirts of Khartoum that are as deprived as the periphery – – they house a significant portion of Sudan’s large displaced population – – but this was not at the forefront of my mind flying in).

Passing through immigration was one of my more nerve-wracking interactions with bureaucracy. As my beady-eyed official took what felt like an unduly extended amount of time scrutinizing my paperwork, I worried, irrationally, that there was somehow some indication, unknown to me, on my passport that shouted out ‘former ICC employee.’ However after what was, in reality, probably no more than five minutes, his hand went to pick up a stamp – the sure sign at border crossings of any kind that the official who holds the key to your entry has decided that today you will pass.

Billboards of Bashir are ubiquitous in Khartoum

Billboards of Bashir are ubiquitous in Khartoum

Coming out of the air-conditioned airport into the 38°C (100°F) night air was like walking into an oven. In the taxi leaving the airport the very first thing to catch my eye was the line-up of four shiny new billboards on the road leading from the carpark. Each had a heavily air-brushed photo of the Sudanese President on them, and each had a slogan written in English – clearly for the consumption of incoming foreigners. I didn’t have my notebook on hand to write the captions down, but from memory they went something like this: “Bashir – Our choice, our dignity!” and “Down with Ocampo’s false accusations!” Such was my welcome to Khartoum . . .

Comments

  1. You are an awesome blogger, but your math could use some work — 38 celsius is actually 100 farenheit… 🙂

  2. Bec Hamilton says:

    Ha! You know I’m a high school dropout – so I’m missing a few bits and pieces along the way. Temperature conversion appears to be one of them!Thanks – will amend 🙂

Trackbacks

  1. […] I marvel at the campaign laid out by the Sudanese state to welcome foreign arrivals. The trouble is I always land at night and so once again I have returned without any decent photos. The one to the left is a quick snap […]

  2. […] over the capital I experienced the same sense of rage as I felt the first time I flew over the capital at night. But before I got to reflect on this for […]

Speak Your Mind

*