In the images that Faheem shows, the corpses appear burned, so black is their skin. If bodies are left under the scorching sun long enough, they automatically start to look that way, explains this Sudanese Red Crescent aid worker, as he flips through an endless amount of photos and videos of his dead neighbors, which he carefully stores on his phone. . He has taken most of the images himself. The man also shows a sequence filmed by a companion, clearly hidden and partly under a piece of clothing, which shows a load of corpses being thrown into a mass grave from the platform of a truck.
Faheem took these photographs in June 2023, when the capital of Western Darfur, El Geneina, was attacked by the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) and their affiliated Arab militias (also known as Janjawid). .
“In the first days, we went out to the streets to collect the bodies. We worked more than 12 hours a day, but even then it wasn't enough. Many were severely maimed, because RSF forces were firing from large-caliber weapons mounted on their landcruiser. Sometimes the militiamen would come and take us out of the city, where they would force us to bury the bodies in shallow graves. I think I must have buried hundreds of people, I lost count,” Faheem tells this newspaper months later from Adré, a small town in Chad located a few kilometers from the border with Sudan, where he has taken refuge.
Faheem is one of the more than half a million Sudanese who fled to Chad due to the war, of whom more than 100,000 are staying in the Camp École temporary reception camp, located next to the border town of Adré. But neither he nor his companions feel safe. His movements are restless, his eyes are dull and it is clear that he is afraid to tell his story; What if they are not safe in Chad either?
The El Geneina attack turned into a massacre. Between 10,000 and 15,000 people were killed during the assault and the months afterward, according to expert report recently sent to the UN Security Council. Investigators concluded that the attacks were “planned, coordinated and executed by the RSF and the Arab militias with which they collaborate.” Specifically, the men of the Masalit community, originally from El Geneina, were especially decimated.
“The RSF must pay for the mass murder of our community,” Abdo Ashraf (not his real name), also a resident of Camp École, states emphatically. This tall man, dressed in a white suit, prefers to talk about what he has seen in the shade of one of the few trees on the outskirts of the camp, where numerous refugees greet him warmly. “I was one of the leaders of the El Geneina community,” he explains. “That's why I'm on the militia's blacklist. If they had caught me at a checkpoint when I was heading towards the border, they would have executed me without hesitation,” he claims.
The war in Sudan broke out last April due to the lack of agreement between the Army and the Rapid Support Forces on a reform of the security sector and their inability to cement their authority after carrying out a joint coup in late 2021. The riot ended a fragile democratic transition that had begun in the country two years earlier, shortly after former president Omar al Bashir was overthrown after 30 years in office.
In our fight for justice, information is our only weapon.
Abdo Ashraf, refugee
On January 29, the chief prosecutor of the International Criminal Court (ICC), Karim Khan, stated before the UN Security Council that there are “reasons to believe” that crimes contemplated in the Rome Statute, such as genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity, are being committed by both the Sudanese Army and the paramilitaries of the Rapid Support Forces in Darfur. According to UN figures, since the conflict broke out in April, some 10 million Sudanese have had to move, of which 1.5 million have crossed the borders with neighboring countries.
“We are still in danger”
Ashraf continues to fear for his life. Every day he sees members of the Arab militias crossing the border, unarmed. “They hang out in the markets in the nearby town,” says Ashraf, “and gather information about those who have fled El Geneina.”
In August, an acquaintance of Ashraf was stabbed to death in Metche, another nearby camp. Although the case is being investigated by the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR), who manages the camp, Ashraf is sure the man was killed by the Janjawid. “40,000 people live in that camp, but it is only guarded by two soldiers with kalashnikov. We remain in danger,” he states.
Overcoming his fears, Ashraf continues to try to do something for his community in the camp. The man runs an information network with spiritual leaders, teachers and other prominent members of his hometown. Together they collect data on human rights violations. “In our fight for justice, information is our only weapon,” declares Ashraf, and emphasizes: “That is why it is vital that we put our stories together, to prevent them from being lost over time.” Because almost every resident of Camp École has a story about human rights violations across the border. For example, seven men separately told this newspaper that they buried bodies in mass graves.
One of them is Mustapha Mohamed Ahmed, an older man who wears a white kufiya on his head. “We buried the first ones in the normal cemetery, but soon there was no room,” says Ahmed. The man draws lines in the sand to explain how he placed bodies in shallow graves. Each line represents one. “The bodies didn't stop arriving. We dug additional graves everywhere,” he recalls. Most of the dead were young men, explains Ahmed; some of them were executed before their very eyes. “I saw teenagers tied up, on the ground on the asphalt,” he says. “They stabbed them in the back with knives. They were all young men from the Masalit tribe. “My son knew them from our neighborhood,” he accuses.
The return of ethnic violence is reminiscent of 2003, when the then leader, Omar al Bashir, mobilized ethnic Arab militias to repress a rebellion by African populations. In the massacre that followed, 300,000 people were killed. A decade later, the Rapid Support Forces were established from the union of armed groups supported by the central government. Their relationship with the army has been marked by strong rivalry and, although this struggle worsened after the overthrow of Al Bashir in 2019, both had been able to maintain a fragile alliance of convenience.
Often the people we meet are traumatized. Your memories are sometimes mixed up and the dates or places mentioned are incorrect
Mohamed Osman, Human Rights Watch
As the perpetrators of 20 years ago find themselves once again embroiled in the b
loodshed in Darfur, human rights organizations are trying to gather information in the refugee camps of eastern Chad to lay the groundwork for an allegation of possible war crimes. .
Testimonies such as those of Ahmed, Faheem and Ashraf are indispensable for Mohamed Osman, of Human Rights Watch (HRW). He and his team of researchers visited these Chad camps several times in recent months to talk to refugees. The work is complicated, the expert acknowledges. “Often the people we meet are traumatized. Their memories are sometimes mixed up and the dates or places mentioned are incorrect,” he explains by phone from Berlin. And the more time passes, the greater the risk of valuable information being lost. “Time, but also traumas, cloud their memory,” he insists.
The researcher points out that even the smallest details in refugees' testimonies can be of great importance. “We pass all information on possible war crimes to our colleagues specialized in collecting and analyzing data and information from open and publicly accessible sources,” explains Osman. His stories can be contrasted and verified with the help of photos, videos and satellite images. “This way we make sure that our conclusions are accurate,” he continues. “We can verify attacks, arson and other property damage using publicly available photos taken from space.”
The fear of being a witness
In the refugee camps on the Darfur border, members of Abdu Ashraf's information network are hopeful about international interest in refugee stories. “Recently a team even came from The Hague that is investigating what happened in El Geneina,” says Ashraf. But they are also afraid. “The Janjawid have previously murdered witnesses who could have testified before the ICC,” says this man.
Furthermore, analysts and security experts say that everything indicates that the RSF is gaining ground. “And if they take control of the country, the Masalit will never be able to return to Darfur and no one will be condemned for the atrocities,” Ashraf explains, with a somber look. “All our current work will have been in vain.”
Some refugees also doubt that the evidence they collect will ultimately be of any use. The facts largely prove them right. After the 2003 massacres, the case relating to Darfur was referred in 2005 to the ICC by the UN Security Council for investigation. In 2022, the process focused on what has been unofficially described as the first genocide of the 21st century began in The Hague, with the trial of Ali Mohamed Ali Abd al Rahman, alias Ali Kushayb, alleged former commander of the Janjawid militias. The man, who surrendered to the authorities of the Central African Republic in 2020 and was later transferred to the Netherlands, pleaded not guilty to 31 war crimes and crimes against humanity committed between 2003 and 2004, which, according to the prosecution, caused hundreds of dead. A verdict is expected in the coming months.
However, Bashir, who is serving a sentence for corruption in his country, and two other main suspects have never been extradited to the ICC. On January 29, the US government declared that it would reward with five million dollars to anyone who gave a clue that led to the arrest of one of them, something difficult to happen in the current context of war.
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