Sudan is longstanding in crises and civil strife. So, it’s amidst this chaos that a grassroots movement – the Emergency Response and Relief (ERR) network – has developed into a beautiful, shining light. This wide-reaching corps includes 26,000 committed volunteers as members. Together, they provide critical food and medical care to millions of citizens across the country. ERRs currently operate in 96 out of 118 districts in Sudan. Often, they epitomize resilience and selflessness, doing work that has been the bulk of international aid’s failure.
Yet, against this monumental backdrop, ERRs have received less than 1% of all international humanitarian aid funding designated to Sudan. Despite this, the network has been able to provide assistance at a much lesser cost than United Nations agencies. This efficiency has brought a lot of attention, as analysts recently declared that ERRs are key to any postwar Sudan.
The network’s reach is impressive. ERRs have recently reached over 29 million Sudanese with life-saving meals and emergency assistance. This milestone underscores their irreplaceable role in addressing the humanitarian emergency. With enough funding to sustain operations for several months into next year, they are poised to continue their life-saving work despite pressing challenges.
The situation is dire. ERRs are confronted with a shocking 77% shortfall, leaving them to cut back on vital wrap-around support services. Over the past few months, they were forced to close down hundreds of neighborhood soup kitchens. These kitchens were essential for keeping the most vulnerable of our population fed.
The risks that ERR volunteers take are significant. They all work every day under the intimidating threat of violence and/or murder. As volunteer Alsanosi Adam stated, “You risk anything from intimidation to death. From torture to being killed – and anything in between.” His harrowing story is a reminder of the brutal reality confronting those who stay to provide lifesaving assistance in a war-torn nation.
Tucked into this corps of volunteers, women make up 40% of the workforce, courageously putting themselves at risk frontlines even when sexual violence is weaponized in conflict. Their courage is reflected in the words of volunteer Amira, who shared her experiences: “You have to sneak in and hope you make it back.” Her determination to provide aid stems from a profound sense of duty: “There was a need to do something. They had nothing.”
Fighting against such physical attacks as ERR volunteers face on a daily basis. They work in a context where being neutral makes one suspect. Samir, another volunteer, explained, “If you’re a humanitarian in Sudan now, it is very dangerous. Neutrality, being impartial, is dangerous. Each side thinks you should swear allegiance to them.” This complex landscape adds layers of challenges for those trying to provide that urgent help.
Despite these issues, ERRs have formed a special and invaluable bond that goes beyond ethnic and geographic boundaries within Sudan. And, even more importantly, they have brought together a country divided down the middle by civil war, creating relationships that are necessary to rebuild a country. The community’s response has often been protective. Samir noted that “most of the protection we get actually emanates from the community itself.” He remembered an instance he was under arrest, but because of community organizing, he knew that organizing his community was the key to his release.
The dire circumstances surrounding Sudan’s humanitarian crisis have drawn international attention. ERRs were nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize this year, a recognition of their amazing work in difficult circumstances. Jamal, a volunteer, remarked on the significance of this nomination: “For me, the Nobel prize is a protection measure. Winning it would contribute to the volunteers gaining more protection.”
Yet even with recognition comes fear. Consider the volunteers. Volunteers are often attuned to the risks inherent to their work. Amira shared her apprehensions about her family knowing her whereabouts: “I’d never tell anybody, especially my mother, where I was going.” No wonder this statement suggests profound personal cost that goes hand-in-hand with their dedication to serve the public good.
The threat is indeed as serious as it sounds. Currently, an estimated 100 ERR volunteers are imprisoned in El Fasher Shala prison, facing brutal conditions. Jamal recounted his own harrowing experience: “I was beaten and confined to a very small room which wasn’t well ventilated at all. They were accusing me of collaborating with outside forces.” Firsthand accounts like these detail the dangerous risks that humanitarian workers live under.