ISTANBUL – The fall of El-Fasher, the last major Sudanese Armed Forces stronghold in Darfur, has unleashed a humanitarian catastrophe of staggering proportions. On October 26, 2025, after an 18-month siege, the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) overran the city, capital of North Darfur state and a lifeline for over a million displaced people across the region. What followed was not merely a military victory but a meticulously documented campaign of terror: door-to-door ethnic killings, summary executions at checkpoints, mass abductions of medical workers, and systematic looting of hospitals, schools, and humanitarian warehouses. The city, once a bustling commercial and administrative center for western Sudan, now lies in ruins, its streets littered with bodies, its water pumps destroyed, and its remaining residents—mostly women, children, and the elderly—trapped in a kill zone with no safe exit.
The global response has been swift, visceral, and overwhelmingly unified in its condemnation. From the cafes of Istanbul to the corridors of the United Nations in New York, from the studios of Egyptian television to the social media feeds of Sudanese youth in the diaspora, a single message reverberates: El-Fasher must not fall into silence. Hashtags such as #SaveElFasher, #ElFasherDrenchedInBlood, #KeepEyesOnSudan, and #RSFTerror have dominated Arabic-language platforms, amassing tens of millions of impressions within 72 hours of the city’s collapse. Viral videos—some filmed by RSF fighters themselves—show bound civilians being shot in the head, families gunned down while fleeing, and children screaming as artillery shells rain on crowded displacement camps. These images, raw and unfiltered, have pierced the global conscience in a way that official reports rarely do.
Chairman of Sudan’s Transitional Sovereignty Council, General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, confirmed on October 27 that Sudanese army forces had executed a tactical withdrawal from El-Fasher to a “safer location” south of the city. His statement, delivered in a somber televised address from Port Sudan, was not framed as a defeat but as a desperate measure to prevent the “total annihilation” of civilians. “We could not allow El-Fasher to become another Srebrenica,” he said, invoking the 1995 Bosnian massacre. “The RSF’s objective was never military—it was extermination.” The withdrawal, ordered after RSF drones and heavy artillery breached the last defensive lines around the city’s central market and the Babiker Nahar Pediatric Hospital, left behind a civilian population that had already endured 549 days of siege, starvation, and bombardment.
El-Fasher had been the beating heart of humanitarian operations in Darfur. Before the war, it was home to 260,000 residents. By mid-2025, that number had swollen to over 1.2 million as waves of displaced people from Nyala, Geneina, Kutum, and Zalingei poured in, seeking safety behind the army’s lines. The city hosted the regional offices of the World Food Programme, UNICEF, the International Committee of the Red Cross, and Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF). Its airport—now a smoldering crater—was the only functioning airstrip in Darfur capable of receiving large cargo planes. Its hospitals, though overwhelmed, were the last functioning medical facilities in a region where 80% of health infrastructure has been destroyed since 2023.
Now, all of that is gone.
The Siege: 18 Months of Slow Death
The RSF laid siege to El-Fasher in May 2024, encircling the city with a 40-kilometer ring of berms, trenches, and sniper positions. Supply routes from Port Sudan—already 1,200 kilometers away and plagued by banditry—were cut. The RSF imposed a total blockade: no food, no fuel, no medicine. Trucks attempting to enter were looted or burned. Humanitarian convoys were fired upon. In July 2024, an MSF convoy carrying 12 tons of medical supplies was ambushed 30 kilometers south of the city; three drivers were killed, and the cargo vanished.
By September 2024, the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC) declared El-Fasher in Phase 5: Catastrophe/Famine. Children with stick-thin limbs and distended bellies became a common sight in displacement camps like Zamzam and Abu Shouk. Malnutrition rates among under-fives exceeded 30%. The city’s water system, dependent on diesel pumps, collapsed when fuel ran out. Residents began digging shallow wells in dry riverbeds, only to find them contaminated with sewage. Cholera swept through the camps, killing hundreds in a single week in August.
The RSF’s strategy was deliberate: starve the population into submission, then move in for the kill. They used drones—reportedly supplied through Chad and the United Arab Emirates—to target bakeries, markets, and water points. On October 12, a drone strike hit the central market during peak hours, killing 47 people, including 19 children. Another strike on October 18 destroyed the last functioning bakery in the Al-Majid neighborhood, cutting off the city’s final source of bread.
The Fall: October 26–27, 2025
The final assault began at dawn on October 26. RSF columns, reinforced with pickup trucks mounted with DShK heavy machine guns and Grad rockets, advanced from three directions: north from the Kutum road, west from the Tawila axis, and south from the Shangil Tobaya corridor. Sudanese army defenses, depleted after months of attrition, crumbled within hours. By noon, the RSF had captured the airport. By 3 p.m., they were inside the city center.
What followed was not a battle—it was a purge.
Eyewitnesses describe RSF fighters moving house to house in neighborhoods like Al-Jabal, Dar es-Salam, and Al-Majid, demanding to see identity cards. Anyone with a name or tribal affiliation linked to the Fur, Zaghawa, or Masalit—non-Arab ethnic groups historically opposed to the RSF—was dragged into the street and shot. In one incident in the Al-Wehda district, 42 men were lined up against a wall and executed with automatic rifles. Their bodies were left for days as a warning.
Women and girls faced a different horror. Reports from survivors who escaped to Chad describe mass rape as a weapon of war. RSF fighters stormed displacement camps, abducting hundreds of women. Some were taken to RSF bases and held as sex slaves. Others were raped in front of their families before being killed. A 14-year-old girl who reached the Adré border crossing told UN protection officers: “They said, ‘You are slaves. This land belongs to the Arabs now.’”
The Joint Force of Armed Struggle Movements (JSAMF), a coalition of Darfur rebel groups that had aligned with the army, issued a statement on October 27 claiming that over 2,000 civilians were killed in the first 48 hours of RSF control. Most victims, they said, were women, children, and elderly men unable to flee. Idris Laqma, a senior commander in the Justice and Equality Movement, told Saudi television network Al-Hadath that more than 1,500 had died in identity-based killings alone, with bodies dumped in mass graves on the city’s outskirts.
Satellite imagery analyzed by Yale University’s Humanitarian Research Lab confirms the scale of the slaughter. Between September 28 and October 27, over 60 new burial mounds appeared in the Daraja Oula cemetery—each large enough to hold dozens of bodies. Thermal imaging detected multiple burn sites consistent with mass cremations. Along the RSF’s earthen berms, researchers identified dozens of objects consistent with human remains, suggesting that fleeing civilians were deliberately trapped and executed.
Targeting the Healers: The Abduction of Doctors
One of the most chilling developments came on October 28, when the Sudan Doctors Network (SDN) announced that six medical personnel had been kidnapped by the RSF in El-Fasher. The doctors—three surgeons, two pediatricians, and one obstetrician—were taken from the Al-Saudi Maternity Hospital, the last functioning medical facility in the city. Their families received phone calls demanding 100 million Sudanese pounds (approximately $50,000 USD) per doctor for their release.
The SDN condemned the abductions as “a grave violation of international humanitarian law” and an “organized criminal act aimed at destroying what remains of the healthcare system in Darfur.” Targeting medical workers, they said, was not random—it was strategic. Since the war began, the RSF has systematically attacked hospitals, looted pharmacies, and killed or abducted doctors to prevent treatment of wounded civilians and army soldiers.
The Al-Saudi Hospital had been a beacon of hope. Despite being shelled 17 times since June, it continued to operate with a skeleton staff of 42 doctors and nurses. On October 20, an RSF artillery strike killed 13 patients in the pediatric ward. Three days later, another strike collapsed the maternity wing. By the time the doctors were abducted, the hospital was treating patients on the floor with no electricity, no running water, and no anesthetic.
The kidnapping of medical personnel is not new in this war. Since April 2023, 129 aid workers have been killed in Sudan, according to the UN. In Darfur alone, 34 doctors have been murdered or disappeared. But the El-Fasher abductions mark a new low: the use of healthcare workers as bargaining chips in a ransom economy that has flourished under RSF control.
The Exodus: 26,000 Flee in 48 Hours
As the RSF tightened its grip, tens of thousands attempted to flee. The International Organization for Migration (IOM) reported on October 27 that 26,000 people left El-Fasher in the first 48 hours after the fall. By October 29, that number had risen to over 50,000, according to local sources in Chad.
The journey is perilous. The main escape route runs west toward the Chadian border, a 150-kilometer trek through desert controlled by RSF checkpoints. At each stop, civilians are robbed, beaten, and extorted. Men are separated and executed if suspected of army ties. Women are raped. Children are taken as “recruits” or slaves.
One family of eight—grandparents, parents, and four children—left El-Fasher on foot on October 27. They carried only a sack of sorghum and two liters of water. Three days later, only the mother and two youngest children reached Adré. The others were lost: the grandfather shot at a checkpoint, the father abducted, the teenage daughter taken by RSF fighters.
UN Humanitarian Coordinator Denise Brown described the exodus as “one of the most desperate mass movements I have seen in 30 years of crisis response.” She noted that RSF fighters were “holding people for ransom along militia-controlled roads,” demanding payments in cash, gold, or livestock. Those who cannot pay are killed or enslaved.
Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) issued an urgent appeal on October 28, demanding that the RSF grant civilians “the right to safe exit and protection.” The organization warned that El-Fasher was “uninhabitable” after 549 days of siege: 90% of homes destroyed, no functioning hospitals, no clean water, and widespread malnutrition. “People are dying not just from bullets,” said MSF’s Sudan director, “but from hunger, disease, and despair.”
The Digital Uprising: Solidarity Goes Viral
The fall of El-Fasher has ignited a digital revolution. Within hours of the first reports, #SaveElFasher trended globally, surpassing 12 million posts on X (formerly Twitter) and 8 million on TikTok. Arabic-language hashtags dominated: #الفاشر_تغرق_في_الدم (#ElFasherDrenchedInBlood), #أنقذوا_الفاشر (#SaveElFasher), and #السودان_ينزف (#SudanIsBleeding).
Egyptian celebrities led the charge. Actor Ahmed Maher posted a video from Cairo, his voice breaking: “I stand in full solidarity with the people of El-Fasher and Sudan. They face a grave tragedy at the hands of the RSF militia, which deprives them of water, medicine, and life itself. May God preserve Sudan, its people, its leadership, and its government. Our hearts are with you.” The video garnered 3.2 million views in 24 hours.
Fotouh Ahmed, known for his roles in historical dramas, compared El-Fasher to Gaza: “El-Fasher is facing the world’s biggest humanitarian tragedy today. We raised our voices for Gaza—now we must raise them louder for Sudan.” His post was shared by over 400,000 users.
Actors Diaa El-Merghani and Mohamed El-Sawy issued joint appeals, calling for a global day of action on November 1. “Silence is complicity,” El-Sawy wrote. “The world cannot watch another genocide unfold.”
Sudanese voices were equally powerful. Blogger Yasin Ahmed, who has 1.1 million followers on Instagram, wrote: “The RSF militias commit violations against unarmed Sudanese civilians—killings, looting, assaults, terror. And the world? Silent. As if Sudanese blood is cheap.”
Football star Haitham Mustafa Karrar, a legend in Sudanese sports, posted on Facebook: “As horrific crimes are committed in El-Fasher by a terrorist militia, the international community remains in suspicious silence, as if innocent blood isn’t even worth a cold condemnation. Shame on them. Shame on us if we stay quiet.”
In London, British-Sudanese MP Zarah Sultana spoke at a parliamentary lobby event: “The UK must impose sanctions on the United Arab Emirates for arming the RSF. We must stop all arms sales. We must demand a ceasefire and humanitarian access. El-Fasher is burning—and Britain is complicit.”
The Raoul Wallenberg Centre for Human Rights issued a legal brief warning of “imminent large-scale atrocities” and calling for the establishment of civilian evacuation corridors under UN protection.
The War Within the War: Foreign Hands
The conflict in Sudan is no longer just a civil war—it is a proxy battlefield. The RSF, led by Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (“Hemedti”), receives extensive support from the United Arab Emirates, which has allegedly supplied drones, anti-aircraft systems, and mercenaries via Chad and the Central African Republic. UAE cargo planes have been tracked landing in Amdjarass, Chad, before crossing into Sudan. In August 2025, Hemedti swore in a parallel RSF government in Nyala, declaring Darfur an “autonomous region”—a move widely seen as a prelude to secession.
The Sudanese army, meanwhile, is backed by Egypt, Iran, and Russia. Egypt has supplied MiG-29 jets and air defense systems. Iran has provided Shahed drones. Russia’s Wagner Group—now rebranded as Africa Corps—operates gold mines in RSF-controlled areas in exchange for weapons and training.
UN Secretary-General António Guterres condemned the “external interference” in a statement on October 27: “The level of suffering in Sudan is unbearable. Foreign actors must stop fueling this war. The people of El-Fasher—and all of Sudan—deserve peace, not more weapons.”
The Death Toll: A Nation in Ruins
The war, which began on April 15, 2023, has killed over 40,000 people, according to conservative UN estimates. Local sources claim the true figure exceeds 150,000. More than 15 million people—one in three Sudanese—have been displaced. 18 million face acute hunger. 2.5 million children are at risk of starvation.
In Darfur, the situation is apocalyptic. The region, home to 9 million people, has seen 80% of its health facilities destroyed. 70% of schools are closed. Mass rape has been documented in every major RSF advance. In West Darfur, the 2023 Geneina massacre saw over 15,000 killed in a single week—mostly Masalit civilians.
El-Fasher was the last hope. Now, it is a graveyard.
The Call to Action: What Must Be Done
The international community faces a moral and strategic imperative. The JSAMF has called on the UN Security Council to:
Designate the RSF a terrorist organization.
Impose targeted sanctions on RSF leaders, including asset freezes and travel bans.
Establish safe humanitarian corridors under UN protection.
Deploy an international protection force to Darfur.
Refer RSF commanders to the International Criminal Court for war crimes and crimes against humanity.
Human rights groups demand:
Immediate ceasefire negotiations in a neutral venue (not Jeddah, not Geneva—both seen as compromised).
Independent investigation into UAE, Chad, and Wagner involvement.
Global arms embargo on both sides.
Debt relief and reconstruction fund for post-war Sudan.
The Survivors: Voices from the Edge
In a refugee camp in Adré, Chad, Fatima Adam, 62, sits under a tarp with her three grandchildren. Her son was killed in El-Fasher. Her daughter-in-law was raped and left for dead. “We walked for five days,” she says. “The RSF shot at us from the dunes. They took my wedding ring, my prayer beads, my dignity. But they did not take my voice. I will tell the world what they did.”
In Istanbul, Dr. Osman Khalid, a Sudanese surgeon who fled Khartoum in 2023, organizes Zoom vigils every night. “We lost El-Fasher,” he says, “but we will not lose Sudan. Not to terrorists. Not to silence.”
Epilogue: A City Silenced, A People Unbroken
El-Fasher is dark tonight. The RSF has cut electricity, internet, and mobile networks. Starlink dishes—once a lifeline for activists—have been confiscated. The city’s mosques, churches, and markets are empty. The only sounds are gunfire, cries, and the howl of the desert wind.
But beyond the berms, beyond the checkpoints, beyond the mass graves, the world is listening. From Cairo to London, from Nairobi to New York, people are marching, posting, donating, and demanding. The blood of El-Fasher has stained the conscience of humanity.
The question is no longer whether the world will act—but how soon.
For the people of El-Fasher, time is not on their side.
