People in Sudan are still running, three years on.

War reached streets in April 2023

Families across Sudan left homes, neighbourhoods and whole cities after fighting spilled into civilian areas in April 2023. The conflict forced waves of people to flee again and again; many who left then are still uprooted today. The pattern has become a cycle of leaving, losing and trying to survive.

The scale of the crisis is massive and persistent.

A recent survey carried out by the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) sampled 1,293 displaced households across Sudan, Chad and South Sudan and paints a stark picture of how repeated moves wear people down. The study finds that roughly nine in ten households have lost their homes and nearly three-quarters report no steady source of income. Food shortages are widespread: more than 80 percent of households inside Sudan regularly skip meals, and almost every displaced household in South Sudan reports going without food at times.

These numbers reflect the harsh daily reality millions face. Basic routines—work, school, regular meals—have been interrupted or wiped out. As a result, people rely on borrowed strength and shared kindness, but that support is wearing thin.

Exhaustion, family separation, eroding education

By the time people have been displaced four times or more, almost two-thirds of them say they’re completely exhausted and have run out of resources. Roughly 65 percent of households report being separated from family members. For children, the losses are long-term: only about 45 percent of displaced children across the three countries attend school regularly, and around 18 percent of households say they’ve had to send children to work.

The next generation is clearly bearing the brunt of this crisis.

These trends matter for recovery. Interrupted schooling makes it harder for children to return to normal life or access decent jobs later. Separation from family members makes trauma and instability worse. And repeated moves destroy savings, shelter and support networks, leaving people dependent on aid or the charity of others.

Humanity stretched thin

The NRC’s findings also show a surprising, painful generosity: in Sudan and Chad, about one in three households receiving assistance still pass some of it on to neighbours or new arrivals who have less. That solidarity is keeping millions afloat. But the survey warns that the coping strategies people have relied on for three years are reaching a breaking point.

“In Sudan now, you are always running,” says Amina, a displaced mother who fled Khartoum with four children after her husband disappeared in the early days of the fighting. Her words cut to the experience beneath the statistics: constant movement, constant uncertainty.

People sharing their scarce supplies shows how communities stick together. But it also means one shock—a bad harvest, a clinic closure, a spike in prices—could overwhelm entire communities who are already depleted.

Regional ripple effects and political implications

Displacement in Sudan isn't confined by borders. The NRC’s survey covered households in Chad and South Sudan as well, underscoring how people cross frontiers to seek safety and how neighbouring states absorb humanitarian pressure. That cross-border movement complicates response efforts; aid groups and host governments must deal with not only emergency needs but also longer-term shelter, water and schooling when refugees and internally displaced people stay put for months or years.

Governments face hard choices. They can try to expand services and protection for displaced people, but that requires funding and security guarantees. Or they can tighten borders and local access, which risks pushing people into more precarious situations and increasing tensions with host communities.

At the national level inside Sudan, protracted displacement weakens authority where officials can't provide safety or basic services. That vacuum often empowers local militias and actors who can offer some security or resources—but usually at a cost. Politically, a drawn-out humanitarian crisis can erode public trust, fuel grievances and complicate any future peace process.

Economic strain and the humanitarian budget

Large-scale, prolonged displacement also pressures the economy. Recurrent flight reduces labour force participation, disrupts markets and drains household savings. When three-quarters of displaced households report no income, they stop buying non-essential goods, which ripples into local businesses and markets. Aid becomes not only life-saving but also a short-term economic stabiliser for entire towns and informal settlements.

Humanitarian organisations are stretched. The NRC survey’s headline numbers—millions displaced, tens of millions food-insecure—translate into soaring demand for food, shelter, medical care and schooling. That increases the size of appeals to donors and requires coordination across multiple agencies and governments. Donor fatigue, competing global crises, and constrained budgets make the picture; resources that were once put toward recovery now only cover immediate survival.

What this means for people on the ground

For families, the path out of crisis is unclear. Repeated displacement erodes livelihoods that might otherwise support a return home. Housing loss, fractured family networks and missed education make durable solutions—return, local integration or resettlement—harder to achieve.

Medical and mental-health needs are rising too. Chronic malnutrition from years of food scarcity shows up in child development and adult health. Psychological tolls—grief, anxiety, the strain of separation—compound over time and make schooling and work less attainable.

And while communities have kept one another afloat, that invisible support is now weakening. The survey warns that if aid doesn't scale up, those informal lifelines will collapse and more people will fall into extreme vulnerability.

Paths for response

The NRC’s survey does more than catalogue devastation; it highlights where interventions must focus. Expanding food assistance and cash programmes can prevent acute hunger this season. Reopening schools and supporting child protection services can limit long-term harm to children. Reuniting families and restoring documentation are practical steps that reduce immediate risk and help people access services.

Humanitarian groups also need sustained funding and secure access to deliver aid. Where aid agencies can work with local authorities and community leaders, they often reach more people faster. But access depends on ceasefires, safe corridors and basic rule of law—things the people affected say they lack.

The political dimension is unavoidable: if leaders provide safe conditions for returns and allow consistent humanitarian delivery, displacement can stabilise. If not, displacement becomes another entrenched crisis spanning years.

Related Articles

More than nine million people remain displaced inside Sudan, while nearly 29 million face acute hunger, the Norwegian Refugee Council’s survey finds.

This article was created with AI assistance.