Since December 2018, the Sudanese – both in Sudan and around the world – are tweeting, writing, drawing and demonstrating about the revolution. And with each passing day and peaceful demonstrator silenced by the Bashir regime, our screams grew louder – in part because of a need to get the world's attention, but mostly because of the pain.
At some level, we knew we were screaming in the void. There are other urgent issues for the world: the Trump news cycle, the Brexit card house, the Notre Dame. And even if there were not, most people in the world could not point to Sudan on a map. Therefore, the history of our revolution remained largely uncovered and not televised, except for us.
In the last 6 months, almost every day of the Sudanese revolt has been meticulously documented on social networks. We are sure of this – more than for the world, we have done this for ourselves and for the millions of Sudanese scattered throughout the world thanks to this regime.
There was a time when we quickly caught the global wandering glance: on April 11, Omar Al Bashir was deposed; and the day before, when the photo and video of a female protester destroyed the prejudices of the world of Sudanese (Muslim) women. More time was spent dissecting and symbolizing his image than in the magnitude of the Sudanese people's achievement of overthrowing a 30-year dictatorship.
It was not until June that the world became aware of us again, losing two months of social and political awakening, of art and growth, of the fruits of organized nonviolent resistance. He also missed the continued violence of a regime not yet ready to let go, which was exercising its brutality in places taken from public view in cities like Nyala and Zalingei in Darfur where it has long been accustomed to inflicting pain with impunity. .
But it took the heinous events of June 3 for the world to finally sit down and pay attention. In the early morning hours of that day, we were horrified when demonstrators in Khartoum were attacked by regime forces, beating, firing and raping peaceful demonstrators before they set fire to the shacks with their inhabitants sleeping inside. The most agonizing moment of our revolution was broadcast live on Facebook, Twitter and AlJazeera. It was the last thing we saw before the internet was turned off, and Sudan went dark.
When the dust subsided, we were left with the reality of over 100 dead, hundreds of wounded and countless missing. I do not need to tell you the details because you have probably seen the posts Rihanna& # 39; s instinct. Or maybe you have come across Kourtney KardashianPosts by. Or Yara Shahidiis. Or Davidois. Or Didier Drogbais. Or SZAis.
Members of Sudanese Rapid Response Force (RSF) paramilitaries led by General Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, deputy chief of the Sudanese Transitional Military Council (TMC).
(YASUYOSHI CHIBA / AFP / Getty Images)
We were viral (misinformation)
In the blink of an eye, our revolution went from niche to viral event. The spill of support was overwhelming. Bright, warm light gleamed over the lonely abyss where we were plunged Sudanese over the past six months and delved into the events of that distressing day.
Across the globe, celebrities, activists and people from all walks of life were raising awareness about Sudan. But without much understanding of Sudan, consciousness has turned into disinformation. For most people, the June 3 attack was not just the focal point, it was the only point of reference. Just as a great telephone game, history has transformed from "massacre" to "humanitarian crisis" to "feeding the children of Sudan," and what began as an opportunity for revolution to gain global recognition and global support quickly turned into a fight to keep the narrative from derailing completely (and prevent cheerleaders from sequestrating the wave – @ sudanmealproject is a scam).
At times like this, what was once the advantage of social media to help spread the message quickly and widely, now worked as a disadvantage in trying to correct inaccuracies. Puffy, emotion-filled phrases are much easier to digest and share than historical context and cultural or political nuances.
How can we explain in a concise way why the June 3 massacre happened (to crush the revolution), without also explaining who was behind it (the TMC)?
And how to explain why they were behind this, without also explaining who they are in relation to the previous regime (ex-advisers, ministers and high-ranking generals in a deeply politicized military institution)?
And how will we make the world understand the significance of the June 3 massacre, the protests across the country, all of this and why the Sudanese people are revolting in the first place, not to mention the history of the last 30 years under the government? Regime of Bashir?
Set the record straight
As I write this, I am frustrated to learn that there is much more that I did not address – for example, that the forces that attacked the Khartoum conflict on June 3 are the same forces that have wreaked havoc in Darfur for decades, and using the same tactics. Six days after the protest was dispersed in Khartoum, the city of Dileij in central Darfur was attacked by the same forces and burned. That in the two months of its existence, the Khartoum clan has become a symbol of freedom and triumph, to which Sudanese have joined all over the country and the world; the fruit of six months of labor, bloodshed and ultimate sacrifice, and a testament to the legacy of nonviolent resistance of the Sudanese people.
Trying to fill in the gaps is like throwing a mole. I am frustrated that the information I gave you in this article is not enough to fill in all the gaps, to give you a complete picture of the last six months, not to mention the last 30 years. I am frustrated that my word limit does not allow me to give you the full picture; and that even if it did, that article can not compete with these short, incisive, and diluted social media messages.
As I wrote this, I received a message from one of my cousins in Khartoum, who after 12 days finally got internet access at his house. After a quick celebration, I ask, "What is the thing you would like the world to know about our revolution?"
Your answer comes back fast and confident. "That the revolution is peaceful and conscientious, and that the TMC is killing people in the same way, if not worse than Bashir."
It's the same feeling that many of my other friends and family expressed. That the battle we have fought is older than June 3 and even older than the last 6 months. And most importantly, the Sudanese people have not just fought.
And so, I find the answer to my frustration: if you want to know about the Sudanese revolution, ask the Sudanese of the whole world who are living it.