Sudan: A Journey of Memories

Sudan, a country that has left an indelible mark on my heart. As I reflect on my time there, I’m reminded of the power of memories to carry us through dark times. Good memories can be a balm to the soul, and Sudan has given me some of the best memories I’ve ever made, even amidst the challenging ones.

My journey to Sudan began as a one-year teaching stint, but it stretched into more time as I fell in love with the country’s charismatic people, stunning landscapes, and rich culture. From the majestic Nile River to the ancient pyramids of Meroe and the charm of the kind-hearted people, Sudan left a lasting impression, though it’s a country still navigating its development path.

Thrumming gunshots, hounding bombs, and screaming jet fighters marked a dreadful Saturday that changed my life and countless Sudanese lives. A week of harsh reality followed – no electricity, water, or food, punctuated by relentless bombs. As civil war erupted, I fled with others. Exhausted and fearful, I found solace in beautiful memories made in Sudan, which I’ll share. Though I lost material things, my memories remained like hidden treasures.

Upon arrival at a Sudanese home, the scent of bakhoor – perfumed wood chips soaked in oil – wafted through the warm breeze as a welcome. Delightful aromas and flavours filled the air, triggering a flood of saliva. Endless warm conversations and joyful laughter floated, making one feel at home.

I remember waiting for plates to follow after food was transported on a senyiya (a big serving tray); mealtime was a communal affair. The entire family huddled around the senyiya, sometimes separated by gender. Not only did taste buds dance with the flavourful meal, it was effortless to taste the love and compassion in the food. Endless prompts to keep eating – ‘Okli’ (eat) – echoed among friends as we dug into colourful, unique dishes.

Meals normally concluded with a customary way of making coffee. The  women grounded the coffee beans with a mortar and pestle, while singing jolly local songs to the rhythm of the grinding. It was a delightful experience to witness coffee being roasted in a pot over charcoal. The goodness and smell trapped in the coffee beans released in the air blasting amazing aromas. The brewed coffee was served with jebena, a special coffee set made from clay. The experience was enough to serve and please all the five senses.

The Nile River became more than just a natural flowing watercourse that I learned about in school textbooks and documentaries but a reality where my friends and I would meet at the banks to bid farewell to the sun at dusk, while drinking a cup of Sudanese coffee and appreciating this exquisite river’s grandeur. 

Northeast of the Nile lie Meroe’s truncated pyramids, smaller and weathered due to gold-seeking looters. Amidst the history, I found more – maybe it’s the golden sunrise, twinkling stars, or ancestral presence of the Kingdom of Kush that lingers. Camping there was surreal; pyramids harmonised with the desert landscape. Walking among them brought indescribable serenity.

The sun’s blistering rays over the Nile brought humid heat, cooled only by aircon, water, and evening escapades. From dusty roads to the tranquil river, I felt awe for Sudan’s undiscovered beauties. Watching sunrise was one of my favourite things to do – waking up at dawn was totally worth it.

The sinking realisation that these experiences are now memories, watered only by photos and thoughts, brings tears to my face. Life in Sudan wasn’t easy – struggles and countdowns marked my time there. Yet I ended up staying longer. One key lesson: make good memories even in tough environments. It’s possible. Make friends, make memories – in difficult times, too. Look at what you have, use it, and greatness follows. I’ll keep Sudan’s good memories.