BBC visits the burned Sudan’s capital shell

Khartum’s broken heart lies terribly quietly, after weeks of intense urban battle in Sudan’s capital.

We entered the city only a few days after the Sudan Army again went off the Paristed Fast Support Forces (RSF), the culmination of a six -month offensive through the central part of the country.

After the commercial heart and the Sudan government, Khartoum is now a burned shell.

The return of the capital was a turning point in the two -year civil war that erupted with the power of the fight between the army and the RSF.

But it is unclear in what direction the conflict will be needed now.

We first went to the Presidential Palace, which the RSF took at the beginning of the war.

This was an important base for paramilitary fighters.

The floors are covered with debris and broken glass.

The last chairs that were once used for the official functions covered with dust, several paintings still hang on the walls, torn chandeliers hang out of ceilings.

But almost everything else was looted – even electric cables were torn from the walls.

The worst damage is on the front of the building, which was struck by the RSF drones as soon as the army captured the palace.

The main entrance is swirling, the dried blood is still visible on the stairs, and the windows are now open holes that look over the Nile River.

“I was very pleased to be at the Republican Palace,” one soldier told me when we were walking on a gloomy red carpet.

“This is my first time in this place and I waited for this place (for example, Sudan at all. They wanted it to be free. It’s a symbol of our dignity.”

It is also an important symbol of power for the army.

The soldiers sang and danced, their joy exploded as the Muslim holiday ID began.

The local restaurant delivered a feast for them, which many in the capital greeted as heroes.

But their victory won a great price.

The level of destruction of the Central Khartum is extraordinary: state ministries, banks and sublime office blocks are blackened and burned.

Tarmac at the International Airport is the cemetery of broken aircraft, passports and counters covered with ash.

We drove slowly, weaving around a difficult projectile on the road.

At one intersection, the body details were in the pile, two skulls are clearly visible. About 100 m (328 feet) down the road lay the body in front of the damaged machine.

The termination in the Cathedral of Saint -Meet, built by the British in 1908 and the place of worship for the Christian population of the country, was welcome.

Beautifully colored ceiling is untouched.

The hole high in one wall showed where the shell crashed, the cross dropped down.

But it looked much better than many buildings we saw.

A soldier who removes rubble on the floor told us that most of the damage was carried away from the shelling around the church.

According to him, no one destroyed the “House of God”, but the RSF fighters defiled the building, convinced it.

He said his son was born on the first day of the war, but because of the 24-hour struggle, he had no opportunity to return home and see the baby.

The parasilitors also occupied the areas where diplomatic missions are located.

When the fighting began, countries and companies moved to the evacuation of employees.

At the entrance to the British Embassy, ​​the slogan RSF is promoted on the wall.

A glass with the bullets of the building is largely contained, but it is fixed with many signs of impact.

The car is destroyed in the parking lot.

Across the road, the Britain’s flag hung over the staircase broken building, crumpled and dirty.

This is the third civil war in Sudan for 70 years, and in a sense it is worse than any of the other – because previous conflicts fought in other parts of the country.

But this broke through the Sudan’s core, hardening the divisions and threatening to share the nation.

Further away from the fighting zone, the celebrations are scattered so that the Eid would spill outside.

For people, the war is over here, though it continues elsewhere.

The army was accused of atrocities, and the reports said tens of thousands had fled in battle in recent days. But in Khartoum, people noted the end of the rigid occupation of RSF.

The mood was also alive in the communal cuisine in the neighborhood of Al-Jeriaf West.

“I feel that I was created again,” said Ottom al-Bashir, his eyes are illuminated with a new reality, citing the list of difficulties of the war. He told me he learned his English from the BBC World Service.

TAA TARICA Promenomocratic activist, who is in a motion that overthrew Amara al-Bashir’s military leader, whose authoritarian rule has lasted for almost three decades.

She focuses on helping her surrounding the war.

“We have been celebrating ID for the first time in two years,” she said.

“Everyone dresses, including I! I am crowded with many emotions, as I try to learn to live again. We feel free, feel light, even the air smells different.”

Ms Tarik struggled to fight the kitchens during the war when the food was over, the city looted RSF, under the siege of the army and the United States.

The food is still small, but now there is hope.

“I feel great. I feel safe. I feel great, though I’m hungry,” said an elderly man Kasim Agra.

“You know, it doesn’t matter. Freedom is what is important.

“As you can see, I’m a mobile,” he said, pointing to the phone in his pocket.

“You couldn’t transport your mobile about two weeks ago.”

This is what many people in different parts of Khartum told me – mobile phones were a lifeline for the outside world, and the main purpose for the theft of RSF fighters.

Mr. Agra was optimistic that Khartum and the country could recover.

“I think the government is collecting investors: Americans, Saudis, Canadians, Chinese, they are going to restore this country.”

Even when such a mass renovation takes place, it is difficult to imagine how Khartum retains its various cultural and architectural features.

Several women also repeated what I have repeatedly heard elsewhere – they could finally sleep again after lying nights, fearing that RSF slaves are invading.

The weight of fear and loss is great: so many stories of abuse, life that is dangerous and disturbed.

“Our children are injured,” says Najva Ibrahim.

“They need psychiatrists to help them. My sister is a teacher and tried to work with children, but that’s not enough.”

Ms Tarik also has questions about the impact of the war: “If the city is available again, will open again?

“And another personal question as an activist, what will be with all the freedoms and rights we have received over the last five years of the revolution?” -I asked, referring to the years that followed Bashir’s displacement when a joint civilian government worked on a return to civilian government.

“How will it be again for civil society, actors, for activists, for Freedom fighters? I am not sure about our future.”

No one is sure of Sudan’s future.

“We pray for the residents of Darfur,” said 16-year-old Hava Abdulshafi, citing the Western stronghold of the RSF, where the humanitarian crisis was worse and where the war is expected to change.

“May God protect them.”