Starving in Silence: Sudanese Civilians Turn to Wild Plants as War Pushes Nation Toward Famine

Edited By: Widad WAHBI

As Sudan’s civil war enters its third year, a silent tragedy unfolds: millions of civilians are resorting to eating weeds, wild plants, and even coal to survive. With supply chains broken, aid routes blocked, and prices soaring, nearly half the country is facing acute food insecurity — a crisis aid workers now describe as the worst hunger emergency in the world.

In the face of this desperation, some have turned to poetry. A.H., a retired teacher from North Kordofan, wrote a poignant tribute to Khadija Koro, a wild plant that sustained him when there was nothing else left. “You were the light,” he wrote, “a balm that spread through the spaces of fear.”

The Integrated Food Security Phase Classification estimates that 24.6 million people in Sudan are suffering from acute food shortages. The ongoing conflict between the Sudanese Armed Forces and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) has devastated infrastructure, displaced nearly 13 million people, and reduced agricultural capacity in what was once known as a global breadbasket.

Aid workers from the Norwegian Refugee Council describe entire regions—particularly Darfur, the Nuba Mountains, and Kordofan—as increasingly inaccessible. In some areas, residents survive on millet porridge or a single daily meal. In El Fasher and the overcrowded Zamzam camp, reports of starvation deaths have emerged, particularly among children, the elderly, and pregnant women.

In Port Sudan, aid worker Mathilde Vu noted that some people in North Darfur have been so desperate they resorted to sucking on coal to stave off hunger. Meanwhile, prices for basic goods have skyrocketed—a pound of sugar can cost over $30, while a bar of soap exceeds $15.

Despite these conditions, Sudan’s Agriculture Minister has denied the presence of famine. However, humanitarian organizations like the World Food Programme warn that multiple regions are already at risk, including Khartoum, Gezeira, and large parts of Darfur.

The war has fragmented the country and made movement dangerous. Many families are separated, unable to reunite due to roadblocks or ongoing violence. In El Serif camp, 49,000 displaced people compete for limited food aid, which covers barely 5% of the population’s needs. One resident, Hawaa Hussein, a grandmother displaced since 2004, described her family’s struggle to plant crops due to the lack of seeds and tools—even though the rainy season has begun.

In these difficult conditions, community solidarity remains strong. “You can’t eat while your neighbor is hungry,” Hussein said. But food, clean water, and medicine remain scarce, especially in areas under RSF control, where international organizations have been banned.

Despite the despair, A.H. ended his poem with a message of resilience:
“When people clashed and death filled the city squares, you, Koro, were a symbol of life and a title of loyalty.”