Sudan: How bloodstains visible from space brought attention to a forgotten war.

In December 2025, the global community received a stark reminder of the devastating human cost of Sudan’s protracted conflict when journalist Nadia Taha, a native of El-Fasher, Darfur, presented her insights at a congressional briefing in Washington, D.C. Her testimony, delivered with palpable emotion, painted a harrowing picture of her hometown, which had fallen under the control of the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) on October 26 after a nearly two-year siege. Taha described how the RSF reportedly unleashed a campaign of terror, targeting non-Arab residents with atrocities including torture, rape, and mass killings that claimed tens of thousands of lives, including many of her own relatives and neighbors. The perpetrators, disturbingly, documented and boasted about their heinous acts in videos shared across social media platforms.
Taha’s frustration was evident as she spoke, lamenting, "I used to work for the Voice of America." Her layoff months prior, a direct consequence of an executive order issued by former President Donald Trump aiming for the near-elimination of the U.S. Agency for Global Media (USAGM), which oversees VOA, had left her feeling helpless. "I feel like my hands are tied," she conveyed, encapsulating the struggle of many journalists whose capacity to report on such critical global events has been severely hampered by shifting geopolitical priorities and internal media industry challenges.
The "Forgotten War": Sudan’s Unfolding Catastrophe
Often referred to as "the forgotten war" due to its minimal international media coverage, the conflict in Sudan represents the world’s largest humanitarian crisis. Since its eruption in April 2023, it has forcibly displaced an staggering twelve million people, creating an unprecedented wave of internal displacement and cross-border refugee flows. Conservative estimates place the death toll as high as four hundred thousand, though the true figure is likely much higher given the difficulty of accessing conflict zones and collecting accurate data. This immense human suffering unfolds largely outside the international spotlight, exacerbated by an inward turn in American foreign policy and significant cuts to media resources dedicated to global reporting.
The Trump administration’s dismantling of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) and the placement of over a thousand USAGM employees on administrative leave underscored a broader trend. Concurrently, layoffs at prominent news outlets like the Washington Post in February, which disproportionately affected foreign coverage bureaus, further eroded the capacity for in-depth international reporting. "Sometimes I just want to scream and cry," Taha confided, expressing the profound anguish of witnessing critical events unfold without adequate global attention. "I see a lot of stuff not covered the way I want it to be done."
The Fall of El-Fasher: A New Chapter of Atrocity
The capture of El-Fasher and its brutal aftermath mark another horrific episode in the ongoing power struggle between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). A United Nations fact-finding mission in February 2026 corroborated these reports, concluding that the atrocities committed by RSF fighters in El-Fasher bore "the hallmarks of genocide."
In the absence of traditional ground reporting, open-source intelligence (OSINT) has emerged as a crucial tool for documenting these crimes. OSINT, which utilizes publicly available material such as social media posts, geolocation data, and satellite imagery, has been instrumental in conflicts ranging from Afghanistan and Syria to Ukraine and Iran. The Yale Humanitarian Research Lab, a leading institution in this field, provided irrefutable evidence of mass killings in El-Fasher. Their initial report, published in October 2025, captured international headlines by revealing "objects consistent with the size of human bodies on the ground near RSF vehicles, including at least five instances of reddish earth discoloration."
Shaina Lewis, a Sudan specialist and adviser for Preventing and Ending Mass Atrocities (PAEMA), an advocacy group, emphasized the grim significance of these findings. "The fact that blood was visible from space, that was a moment that captured international headlines," Lewis noted. "I think El-Fasher was a breakthrough moment for all of the wrong reasons. We saw this massive uptick in attention that we had been calling for for the entirety of the war." This "breakthrough" highlights the tragic reality that only evidence visible from space could pierce the veil of global indifference surrounding the Sudanese conflict.
Historical Roots of the Conflict: Darfur’s Enduring Scars
El-Fasher’s tragic fate is deeply rooted in Darfur’s violent history. The city is the historical capital of the region, which, in the early 2000s, was gripped by a conflict that saw the Janjaweed militia, established by the Sudanese government’s security apparatus, wage war against armed rebel groups. During this period, the Janjaweed committed widespread atrocities against Black, non-Arab communities accused of supporting the rebels. An estimated three hundred thousand people perished from fighting, hunger, and disease in what human rights activists widely condemned as a genocide.
Omar al-Bashir, Sudan’s then-dictator, rewarded the Janjaweed for their brutal effectiveness. They were granted control over lucrative gold mines in Darfur and saw their status within the military establishment elevated, partly as a strategic move to shield al-Bashir from political rivals. Under the leadership of Mohammed Hamdan Dagalo, widely known as "Hemedti," the Janjaweed were rebranded as the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). Their influence expanded further when al-Bashir deployed them as mercenaries to Yemen in 2015, where they fought Houthi rebels alongside Saudi Arabian and United Arab Emirates (UAE) forces, gaining combat experience and international legitimacy in the process.
A Tumultuous Decade: From Revolution to Renewed War
The political landscape of Sudan underwent a dramatic shift in April 2019 when four months of sustained pro-democracy protests culminated in the overthrow of al-Bashir’s authoritarian government. This period, celebrated as the Sudanese Revolution, ushered in a transitional civilian-military coalition government, sparking hopes for a democratic future. However, this optimism proved short-lived. In 2021, before the completion of the transitional period and scheduled elections, the military staged a coup, sidelining the civilian leadership. This move ignited an internal rivalry between the RSF and army leaders, many of whom were linked to the old regime.
The simmering tensions erupted into full-scale conflict in April 2023, beginning in the capital, Khartoum, and rapidly spreading across the country, including Darfur. Since then, Sudan has been cleaved into spheres of influence, with the Sudanese army largely controlling the country’s east, north, and center, while the RSF maintains a strong foothold in the south and west.
By May 2024, El-Fasher stood as the last major city in Darfur under the authority of the Sudanese army. For the subsequent eighteen months, RSF fighters laid siege to the city, encircling it with ditches and subjecting both military and residential areas to relentless mortar fire. The prolonged siege led to widespread starvation among the local population, forcing tens of thousands to flee in search of safety and sustenance elsewhere.
Challenges in Reporting: A Media Landscape Under Siege
During the siege, a handful of courageous local journalists remained in El-Fasher, risking their lives to report on the unfolding tragedy. However, their efforts were severely curtailed. In October 2025, the Committee to Protect Journalists issued an urgent alert, stating that thirteen journalists and media workers, described as "among the last sources of independent information from the besieged city," had "gone missing under a communication blackout." At least two, including Muammar Ibrahim, a stringer for Al Jazeera Mubasher, were abducted by the RSF. Ibrahim was captured and detained on October 26 while attempting to leave the city, recognized for his reporting. A video circulated on social media showed an RSF officer accusing Ibrahim of bias for using terms like "militia" and "Janjaweed" to describe the group – characterizations the RSF vehemently denies as it attempts to portray itself as a legitimate political and military force. A visibly distressed but composed Ibrahim confirmed his past use of these descriptions in social media posts, clarifying they were not used in his official reporting.
Beyond the immediate dangers of combat, journalists covering El-Fasher and Sudan at large face a litany of obstacles. These include pervasive electricity and internet outages, deliberate denial of media access by armed parties, severe media funding cuts, and the global media’s attention being fragmented by numerous competing international crises. Nathaniel Raymond, executive director of the Yale Humanitarian Research Lab, highlighted the critical role of organizations like his. "We can go places journalists can’t go," Raymond stated. "We don’t replace witness testimony, but we can operate when there is no ground access." This underscores the desperate need for alternative reporting methods when traditional journalism is rendered impossible.
Voices from the Frontlines: Sudanese Journalists’ Unyielding Struggle
Despite the immense dangers and challenges, Sudanese journalists, particularly those with deep personal connections to El-Fasher, have been at the forefront of efforts to ensure the world is informed. Nadia Taha’s career in journalism began in 2010 with the Sudan Radio Service (SRS), a USAID-funded network later known as Eye Radio, where she worked as a host and Darfur specialist, reporting in Arabic and Zaghawa. She later served as a reporter and communications director for independent media outlets like Ayin Network and Nuba Reports, training journalists to produce documentary videos from underreported conflict zones across Sudan.
Her 2016 Atlas Corps fellowship brought her to Washington, D.C., leading to an internship and eventual full-time position with VOA, making her, to her knowledge, the first Sudanese woman and Darfurian journalist to work for the organization. "I started bringing new voices to Voice of America, interviewing IDPs, people from El-Fasher, experts on Darfur," Taha recounted, highlighting her commitment to amplifying local perspectives.
Around the same time, Adam Mahdi, another dedicated journalist, co-founded Darfur 24, a bilingual Arabic and English online platform, with Mohamed Elfatih. Initially based in Nyala, South Darfur, the platform aimed to "cover events that were not being covered in Darfur, places far from the big cities, population movements, tribal conflicts, shortages in services and development," Mahdi explained. Darfur 24 quickly expanded, employing five reporters across Darfur’s five states, including video journalists in major cities like El-Fasher, Nyala, and El-Geneina, and even covering refugees in Chad and South Sudan, eventually extending its coverage to all of Sudan.
However, the outbreak of war in 2023 forced Mahdi and many of his colleagues to relocate. "It became impossible for them to live or work in an area," he said. RSF areas, in particular, offered no freedom for journalists who did not openly support them. Even in army-controlled areas, freedom was limited. One Darfur 24 reporter’s house was hit by a mortar, fortunately while the reporter was away. In response, Mahdi and Elfatih adapted, training non-journalists, including volunteers, activists, and human rights observers, to provide updates.
Hafiz Haroun, an El-Fasher native and journalist, had closely monitored the escalating tensions and the arms race between the SAF and RSF even before the war began. "It was clear a war was on its way," Haroun observed. After the fall of al-Bashir’s dictatorship in 2019, Haroun reported for the independent newspaper Al-Tayyar in Khartoum, inspired by the country’s nascent democratic transition. His commitment led to his arrest by security forces in 2021, prompting his relocation to Nairobi with support from Frontline Defenders. He subsequently freelanced for outlets like Ayin, Le Monde, and the Washington Post. A deeply personal tragedy struck in 2024 while he was working on a BBC documentary on the Sudan-Chad border: he learned via Facebook posts of the death of his younger brother in El-Fasher. Weeks later, another brother was killed. "They died defending our neighborhood against the RSF," Haroun shared, illustrating the devastating personal toll of the conflict.
The Role of Open-Source Intelligence and External Support
From Nairobi, Haroun continued to contribute to reports on the fighting around El-Fasher, including for the Washington Post. "I did reports on the siege, starvation, rape, and kidnappings," he said. "Usually with WhatsApp, but sometimes it was hard to get in contact when Starlink was down." He sometimes resorted to satellite phones to reach community and military leaders, highlighting the extreme measures required to gather information.
International journalists, facing similar access restrictions, often turned to advocacy groups like PAEMA for contacts on the ground. Lewis, PAEMA’s Sudan specialist, described connecting journalists with Sudanese civilians through a network of civil society activists. These interviewees, prioritizing their security, "would record voice notes somewhere, then send them at a Starlink access point," illustrating the ingenuity and risks involved in relaying information.
The complete communication blackout during El-Fasher’s fall underscored the fragility of these networks. Darfur 24‘s local photographer had left in mid-2025, and their last writer in the city was forced to evacuate due to extreme danger and shortages of food and water. "When it became too dangerous, along with food and water shortages, we forced them to evacuate," Mahdi stated.
When RSF fighters stormed El-Fasher, the city was effectively severed from the outside world. "On the day of the fall there was absolutely no access, and I am someone who has wide connections in El-Fasher," Haroun recalled. For an entire day, he could not reach anyone, fearing most of his sources had perished. He turned to satellite imagery and contacts within the RSF. By October 27, he managed to speak with people who had fled to Taweela, a town near the Sudan-Chad border, piecing together the events. "It was difficult. I had an interview with people I knew, including childhood friends," he recounted. "That was one of the most painful stories."
The Propaganda Battle and Missed Stories
Since the RSF takeover, Darfur 24 has been unable to report directly from El-Fasher, as Starlink internet service is no longer available, making source contact nearly impossible. Their correspondents now focus on survivors who have fled, relying on RSF-supportive social media posts or video reports from international humanitarian delegations to cover the city itself. "There is no independent reporting from the ground, and no verifying of sources," Mahdi lamented, highlighting the severe information vacuum.
This vacuum has led to countless missed stories, a source of profound frustration for Taha. She expressed horror that when an RSF commander, Abu Lulu, claimed on TikTok to have killed two hundred people – and then vowed to "start from zero" next time – no one interviewed the victims’ families or followed up on RSF claims that he was being investigated. This exemplifies the critical gaps in accountability and victim representation.
Adding to the complexity of media coverage, at least one journalist, Tsabih Mubarak of Sky News Arabia, based in the UAE, has drawn considerable controversy. Mubarak, who is reportedly married to a senior official in an RSF-backed parallel government, traveled from Abu Dhabi to El-Fasher days after the RSF takeover. She faced widespread criticism for allegedly whitewashing the extent of the atrocities and for theatrical selfies with children and a photo embracing a female RSF commander, raising serious questions about journalistic ethics and impartiality amidst the conflict.
Implications for Journalism and Accountability
The challenges facing journalists covering Sudan are multifaceted and deeply concerning. The federal judge’s order to reinstate VOA workers placed on administrative leave offered a glimmer of hope, though it did not include contract workers like Taha, who remains hopeful for clarification. Similarly, the mass layoffs at the Washington Post, which decimated foreign bureaus, have left freelancers like Haroun in limbo. "The Post was interested in regular reports," Haroun stated. "Work seems to be frozen. I don’t know what is going to happen."
Reliable independent news from El-Fasher remains extremely difficult to obtain. The RSF now controls Starlink stations, and the remaining residents are too terrified to speak out. The latest information largely originates from recent escapees or from RSF-sponsored propaganda, creating a distorted narrative. Lewis’s poignant observation encapsulates the gravity of the situation: "El-Fasher was the first time we saw the international media come close to what was warranted," she said. "Too little, too late."
The events in El-Fasher serve as a stark reminder of the critical importance of independent journalism in documenting human rights abuses and holding perpetrators accountable. The ongoing decimation of international reporting capacity, coupled with deliberate suppression of information by armed groups, threatens to consign Sudan’s immense suffering to the footnotes of history, leaving countless victims voiceless and justice elusive. The unwavering dedication of Sudanese journalists, often at immense personal risk, continues to be the only beacon of truth in a conflict largely obscured from global view.







