Sudan 2026 – DW, AfriqueXXI, InkStick, Kristeligt Dagblad and Republik

Inside Mother of Mercy Hospital in the Nuba Mountains, wounded civilians arrive after hours — sometimes days — of travel across rough terrain. Some are carried by relatives. Others are packed into the back of vehicles, crossing hills and dirt tracks with no real road network. Many don’t make it.

“The sad reality is that most of the injuries we see are to arms and legs. If people are hit in the chest or abdomen, they usually don’t make it here,” says Dr. Tom Catena, who has worked in this isolated region for more than a decade.

Three years after Sudan descended into war, the conflict between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) has become one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises, with more than 12 million people displaced. In South Kordofan — now one of its key epicentres — fighting continues to push both wounded civilians and displaced families into the Nuba Mountains.

Here, the war is changing shape. Drones have become a defining weapon, increasingly used far from frontlines and often striking civilian spaces.

“The drone struck once, then came back again… hitting those who were already wounded,” recalls Hassan Koko, a community health worker injured near a market in Kauda.

Recent strikes on hospitals and marketplaces across Sudan highlight a growing pattern: the battlefield is no longer separate from civilian life.

In 2025, the RSF formalised a controversial alliance with the SPLM-N under the so-called “Tasis Alliance”, bringing together forces that were once enemies. In the Nuba Mountains, this has translated into a visible RSF presence across towns and markets, where fighters sell goods looted from other regions and move among civilians.

For many Nuba residents — long marginalised and shaped by decades of war — this presence is met with fear and suspicion. The idea of yet another armed actor embedding itself within their communities is not abstract, but immediate.

But in a war defined by aerial attacks, that proximity carries risks.

The presence of armed groups in public spaces blurs the line between civilian and military targets — increasing the likelihood that places like markets, roads and even hospitals come under attack.

“We are fighting because the government is not doing enough. There are not enough hospitals, infrastructure and schools,” says Hassan Hamid, an RSF fighter wounded in combat.

“I want to stay here. I want to live in the Nuba Mountains forever.”