Squeezed between Sudan and South Sudan, the self-governed Nuba Mountains are grappling with complex war dynamics while hosting hundreds of thousands of refugees they are scarcely able to support.
https://p.dw.com/p/5C6Q2Food ration distribution at Umm Dulo Reception Camp in the Nuba Mountains in South Kordofan, SudanImage: Marco SimoncelliAdvertisementHassan Koko sits on top of a homemade wooden bed, overlooking the majestic hills of the Nuba Mountains in South Kordofan, Sudan.
Despite the spectacular view and a comforting late afternoon breeze, he looks uneasy.
On November 29, the 50-year-old community health worker had finished a training course and was enjoying some sweet tea, when a drone suddenly appeared. When it landed, it killed a number of Koko's colleagues.
"The drone struck once, then came back again… hitting those who were already wounded."
While Koko himself survived, the attack left a heavy mark on him. Quite physically so. He points to his left knee. Inside it remains a sharp metal object, now three months after the attack, clearly visible.
"My family was happy I survived. They thought I would die. But life is not the same anymore. Sometimes, I walk down to the nearby market, but mostly, I'm just stuck at home."
For decades, the Nuba Mountains – ruled by the armed Sudan People's Liberation Movement-North (SPLM-N) – have been accustomed to brutal attacks from Sudan's Armed Forces (SAF).
The current conflict dates back to 2011, when fighting intensified after the Nuba Mountains was excluded from the political settlement which resulted in South Sudan's independence. It deepened the long-standing grievances for the Nuba populations, a loose definition of the more than 50 ethnic groups inhabiting a territory the size of Austria.
The SPLM-N, emerging from the SPLA liberation movement that now constitutes South Sudan's military, was founded that same year to represent the Nuba populations' demand for self-rule.
However, it was only in February 2025 that a remarkable change of events occurred.
Faced with the growing hostilities of the ongoing Sudan warthat began in 2023 and has triggered the world's most severe humanitarian crisiswhich, according to estimates, has resulted in more than 150,000 deaths, the SPLM-N decided to join forces with the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF).
This was, by most, seen as a precarious, highly controversial alliance.
RSF, having their roots in the Janjaweed movement, has historically carried out repeated raids in the Nuba territories alongside SAF. Now, nonetheless, the two had to work hand-in-hand .
Jalale Getachew Birru, an East Africa Senior Analyst at Armed Conflict Location & Event Data Project (ACLED), argues that the alliance must be understood as a pragmatic response and perceived in the light of RSF and SPLM-N's shared desire for a future federal system in Sudan:
"Both sides have a common interest, and that's why they are aligned at this moment. To push back against SAF."
In the Nuba Mountains' urban centres, RSF soldiers are roaming casually around. They are jovially chatting at cafes and hanging around populated markets, selling recently looted items from across Sudan: Cars, beds, fuel, fertilizers, electronic devices, and much more.
However, RSF soldiers are not the only newcomers in the Nuba Mountains.
At a 'government' office in Kauda village, the headquarters of the SPLM-N, Jalal Abdulkarim sits stiffly behind his desk. Abdulkarim represents the movement's humanitarian wing, which coordinates refugee efforts in the so-called "liberated areas.”
He does not hide the pressure that the SPLM-N is currently facing. Abdulkarim hands over a Post-it note: "2,885,393" is written on the yellow slip of paper, the number of newly arrived refugees received in SPLM-N-controlled areas since the beginning of the Sudan war.
Funding for refugee programs largely depends on external NGOs and UN agencies, Abdulkarim admits, but they, too, are under financial strain. Following the Trump administration's closure of USAID last year, funding has fallen short of providing the food, water, shelter and sanitation needed for the many arrivals.
"If an NGO previously donated one or two million dollars, today it's just 500,000 or 200,000…This is one of the biggest challenges we face," said the SPLM-N bureaucrat.
The International Organisation for Migration (IOM) estimates that Kordofan hosts "more than a million” internally displaced persons. However, as no UN presence allegedly remains in Kadugli, and most international NGOs have suspended or significantly reduced their operations in the region, these figures may be subject to inaccuracies.
Deeper into the rugged terrain of the Nuba Mountains lies the Umm Dulo Reception Camp, a barren expanse where internally displaced people have erected temporary shelters from sticks and plastic, often beneath the shadows of large acacia trees.
In Zone 12, at the far end of the camp of more than 34,000 people, the newest arrivals are housed. Fatma Eisa Kuku, a 76-year-old, recalls the life she fled in Kadugli, South Kordofan's capital.
"I couldn't sleep. Every night was rat-tat-tat-tat," she says, mimicking the sound of gunfire.
In the Umm Dulo camp, Kuku has found temporary shelter and recently returned to peaceful sleep. Yet she cannot forget the ruthless abductions of her three "brothers" who suddenly disappeared:
"They came between dawn and dusk, and I haven't seen my "brothers" since. I don't know who these people were. If you ask about their identities, you'll be faced with a lot of rudeness."
Although the people of the Nuba Mountains do not explicitly state it, the tension is pervasive. The RSF rarely blends with the local communities, it's like adding a new, unfamiliar layer to years of inherited anxiety.
Moreover, the presence of SPLM-N's new ally around hospitals and markets turn these crowded spaces into potential war targets, a predicament only too known to the Nuba peoples.
According to Jalale Getachew Birru, little is known about the military agreement between RSF and the SPLM-N, although the senior analyst sits on credible reports that the RSF has established military training camps within SPLM-N-controlled territories.
Generally, however, Jalale Getachew Birru is not convinced about the alliance's longevity. When SAF broke the siege of Kadugli earlier this year, long controlled by the SPLM-N and RSF, the allies even started blaming each other for the loss, she explained:
"There was a clash where we were keeping an eye to see whether it was a sign for this alliance to finally break, and for them to go separate ways."
At this point in time, however, the alliance holds.
At the Mother of Mercy Hospital, the biggest hospital in the SPLM-N-controlled areas, three young, wounded RSF soldiers have dragged their beds outside and into the shadows to escape the afternoon heat.
After horrific reports of systematic killings and vicious war crimes, the RSF has been described as one of the most relentless militias of our time. But what, in their own words, are the soldiers actually fighting for?
"We are fighting because the government [in Sudan] is not doing enough. There are not enough hospitals, infrastructure and schools," Hassan Hamid said.
For now, the RSF fighter has found unexpected refuge in the Nuba Mountains, and there's no indication that he and his comrades are leaving anytime soon.
"I want to stay here. I want to live in the Nuba Mountains forever."
