Sudan's Secret Heroes: 26,000 Volunteers Risk Death to Feed Millions Amid War
Sudanese volunteers risk death to deliver aid in war zone

In the heart of the world's worst humanitarian crisis, an extraordinary story of courage is unfolding. Across Sudan, a vast clandestine network of ordinary citizens is risking everything – including torture and execution – to deliver food and medical care to millions of their starving and traumatised compatriots.

The Deadly Daily Grind of Delivering Aid

For volunteers like Amira, whose name has been changed for her safety, each day begins with a perilous secret. She would covertly cross the shifting frontline in North Kordofan state, entering territory held by the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) paramilitaries, accused of genocide and countless war crimes. "I'd never tell anybody, especially my mother, where I was going," she confesses. "You have to sneak in and hope you make it back."

Her work involved counselling women and children who had been raped, before creeping back at nightfall to army-controlled land. Both sides viewed her with deep suspicion, leading to constant interrogation. This is the terrifying reality for members of Sudan's Emergency Response Rooms (ERRs), a grassroots mutual aid network that has effectively replaced the country's collapsed state.

Since the war erupted in April 2023, it is believed the RSF and the Sudanese military have killed up to 400,000 people and forced more than 12 million from their homes. In this landscape of fear, doing good can get you killed. Consequently, hardly any of the thousands of volunteers tell friends or family about their work, fearing they too could become targets by association.

A Network Defying Danger to Unite a Nation

Despite the extreme peril, the ERR network has grown into a colossal force for good. To date, 26,000 volunteers have stepped forward across 96 of Sudan's 118 districts. Remarkably, 40% are women, despite the heightened risk of sexual violence. They have provided meals or help to more than 29 million Sudanese people – over half the population.

Their work has united a nation split by fighting, transcending ethnic and regional schisms. "We only want to help," says volunteer Jamal, summarising their simple, profound mission. This very effectiveness, however, has amplified the danger. Both warring factions are increasingly envious of the deep community trust the ERRs have accrued.

"They know we have a direct link and much influence within our communities," explains volunteer Samir. "Therefore, they are slightly fearful of our activities." This distrust frequently turns violent. More than 145 volunteers are believed to have been killed, while many more have been detained, tortured, or have disappeared. Jamal himself was arrested, beaten, and confined while distributing food in South Kordofan.

International Glimmer of Hope Amid a Funding Crisis

Last month, under a veil of secrecy, a delegation of ERR volunteers travelled to London. There, they briefed the Foreign Secretary, Yvette Cooper, who later told Parliament of the "incredibly brave Sudanese volunteers" she had met. A Foreign Office spokesperson stated the UK is "proud to support their vital work," having provided £146m in aid to Sudan, including funds for groups supporting the ERRs.

This international recognition is crucial, not for acclaim, but for protection. "For me, the Nobel prize is a protection measure," says Jamal, referencing the network's nomination for the 2024 Peace Prize. "Winning it would contribute to the volunteers gaining more protection."

Yet, the future of this life-saving network is precarious. Operating at a staggering 77% deficit, they have been forced to scale down support. Astonishingly, they have received less than 1% of all international aid funding for Sudan, despite delivering aid at a fraction of the cost of large UN agencies. The recent freezing of American aid hit them hard, forcing hundreds of community soup kitchens to close.

As the war grinds on, with 21.2 million people facing high levels of acute food insecurity and seven million on the brink of famine, the volunteers' resolve only strengthens. Amira, after a year of secret missions, finally told her mother the truth. "To my relief, she was 100% supportive," she says. "She could not be more proud." In a country being torn apart, these volunteers represent its very best hope – ordinary people performing extraordinary acts of bravery, one secret meal at a time.