In Darfur, aid workers face the consequences of violence

In late 2025, Humanity & Inclusion (HI) and Atlas Logistique, its unit specialising in delivering aid to the most difficult areas, organised an assessment mission to Darfur. The aim was, among other things, to assess the situation in order to provide the most appropriate humanitarian aid. Jérôme Bertrand was part of the team. A long five-day drive from neighbouring Chad, along rough tracks through a mountainous and volcanic area, took them to the town of Tawilah, which has become a refuge for hundreds of thousands of people who have fled the violence. He reflects on his experience in one of the most inaccessible areas for humanitarian workers, and bears witness to the disaster unfolding, once again, in Darfur.

Darfur, a region plagued by violence for decades

As a humanitarian worker, it’s always quite a special experience to set foot in a war zone… It’s easy to imagine that this means encountering lots of armed people, armoured vehicles or witnessing fighting, but that’s not the reality. Of course, we pass through checkpoints manned by armed guards, and we adhere to extremely strict security procedures with very regular checkpoints and constant contact with the team supervising the journey, but what really stands out is the tension. The stress is ever-present; we are constantly on high alert to ensure the safety of the convoy, the team members and, of course, our own.

Since gaining independence in 1956, Sudan has been plagued by repeated conflicts. For decades, the country has faced a succession of civil wars, such as the separation from South Sudan in 2011, and a particularly intense conflict in Darfur over the past twenty years or so... And for the past three years, war has raged once more, with the state having completely collapsed. There are no longer any basic services: no electricity, no healthcare, no schools. The country is split in two: all supplies to Darfur, which used to be organised in the east of the country via the Red Sea, are now blocked by a front line; nothing can get through. Everything has therefore shifted to the west and now transits via Chad, which previously relied on Sudan for its supplies: the whole chain has been turned upside down. Our Sudanese colleagues are also living in this context, facing major difficulties in securing supplies and ensuring acceptable living conditions for their families.

During our discussions with the local population, people told us about the violence they were experiencing. We heard reports of rape, torture, extortion… It was a litany of horrors. Unfortunately, aid workers are regularly confronted with such accounts of violence, but of such intensity and across such a vast area, it is unbearable. Having worked on the most recent major humanitarian crises myself, I had never seen anything like it.

Tawilah, a refuge for hundreds of thousands of Sudanese

Our mission took us to Tawilah, a small town of 20,000 inhabitants, 60 kilometres from the city of El-Fasher. The latter is known for having endured an 18-month siege during which the population, exhausted by the embargo imposed by the conflict, suffered appalling violence. For the past three years, Tawilah has served as a refuge for part of the population of Darfur: today, this small town is home to more than 600,000 displaced people, living in particularly trying conditions and traumatised by what they experienced in El-Fasher.

Descending from the Djebel Marra mountains towards the heights of Tawilah, one sees, stretching for tens of kilometres, a vast expanse of tarpaulins and straw, sheltering almost the equivalent of the population of Edinburgh. As one approaches, it becomes clear that these are dwellings, clustered together, shaped by the waves of displacement. When we arrived, many people had only just fled the violence following the capture of the town of El-Fasher by one of the parties to the conflict, having travelled 60km across the desert.

People arrive day by day; they have three sticks and a piece of cloth to shelter from the sun: this is their first shelter; they have nothing left when they arrive.

Gradually, these makeshift shelters are expanded and improved as much as possible with straw or sturdier pieces of wood to mark out plots to house the families. It is very impressive; when you walk up to the oldest settlements, you realise that life goes on for the Sudanese people: many farm, have small vegetable gardens to provide for themselves, even if it is never enough… Humanitarian workers are struggling in this extremely precarious situation to meet the population’s basic needs: water, food and shelter to ensure their safety.

People with disabilities, among the most vulnerable

It is estimated that between 15 and 20 per cent of the population in need of emergency humanitarian aid are disabled, amounting to more than 4.5 million people. Being disabled in a country at war, such as Sudan, means having no means of supporting oneself.

It means fleeing the fighting, fleeing the violence, leaving everything behind, having nothing left to your name, and rebuilding a life – however modest – elsewhere, with no means of support.

The more severe the disability is, the harder it will be. We see it every day: people with disabilities are particularly vulnerable within a population that is already extremely vulnerable…

People arriving at the Tawilah camp showed signs of gunshot wounds and injuries resulting from torture. At HI, we know that these people need surgery very quickly to prevent disabilities and, in some cases, to save their lives. There are organisations in Tawilah providing these surgeries, but we too must intervene as soon as possible! Ideally, this should be within three weeks to provide all the necessary support to these people, so that they do not develop a permanent disability. This is one of the main reasons why we have deployed an emergency medical team specialising in rehabilitation. Our colleagues are on the field to provide rapid care and ensure all post-operative care for the injured.

A conflict that has been ignored, whose neglect forces aid workers to make agonising choices

When you’re sent into the field in a conflict zone, you form mental images, and what you’ve imagined is always different from reality.

What struck me in Darfur was not so much entering a war zone, but discovering an area where no state structures remained, where only the force of arms held sway... Realising that everything was held together solely by force and violence was deeply affecting.

Working in the Tawilah camp was also very unusual; the accounts of the violence are shocking, and the victims of war are first and foremost children, women and the elderly.

Seeing such destitution was very hard; you find yourself thinking: how is it that we aren’t all here, bringing aid to these people?

Today, this humanitarian disaster of staggering proportions remains overlooked, shrouded in a deafening and incomprehensible silence. The international community has not taken sufficient action to find solutions to this conflict. Last year, funding for international aid fell dramatically: in Darfur, less than 40% of humanitarian needs were met in 2025 and, so far, only 15% in 2026[1] .

The scale of the needs forces us to face inhuman dilemmas: should we provide food or water, should we support healthcare or ensure shelter? It is very hard to live with, to accept.