The Sudanese House Built on Sufism
The Sudanese House Built on Sufism
For centuries, this land has been characterized by being a blend of ethnicities, occupied by the Bedouin spirit with all its implications of clan and cohesion. This was true until it gained its Ibn Khaldunian name: Sudan (Land of the Blacks), in contrast to Bilad al-Bidan (the Land of the Whites).
Its general features were infused with the spirit of Christian religiosity, but this gradually shifted in favour of another religion—Islam—which captivated people's souls and flowed into their broader public sphere.
In the visual public sphere for instance, Maydan al-Mawlid, public squares where the birth of the Prophet Muhammad is celebrated, serve as a defining feature of modern Sudanese cities, especially the larger of these spaces. These areas, proposed by the Sufis, are an essential component of Sudanese culture. To illustrate; It is impossible to read the corpus of Sudanese Arabic literature without encountering this tolerant, sacred, and festive space:
“This day is the field of longing,
Where yearning delights the afflicted.
The people’s faces, like cheerful gardens,
Blessed by the holy rain of saints.”
(Abdullah Abdulrahman al-Dharir)
To this day, the Mawlid Square, established through the vision of the Sufis, remains one of the most liberating and inclusive spaces in Sudanese culture. Architecturally, it is an open area adorned with various types of fabric tents erected as throughout.
By the late 13th and early 14th centuries, Islam entered Sudan, and the Kingdom of Maqarra abandoned Christianity, transforming into smaller Arab-influenced emirates. By the early 16th century, the Christian Kingdom of Alawa had also ceased to be Christian, and the southernmost boundaries of Islam settled along the 13th parallel north of the equator.
Over the next three centuries, Islam solidified its influence. During this period, prominent religious families established themselves, spreading the traits of the new faith into the country’s public sphere. Sufi lodges became the nuclei of a distinct Islamic civilization, as noted by British missionary Spencer Trimingham in his significant work, A History of Islam in Sudan. What has consistently distinguished Sudanese religiosity is its Sufi character which is predominantly characterized, more precisely, by its Hijazi and Maghrebi essence.
Over time, the principles of a "Sufi universality" took root in the collective consciousness. Making Baghdad the center of the Sufi community with the Hijaz viewed as the axis of existence. This new foundation tamed earlier tribalism with the Sufi order becoming a unifying social contract.
Anyone tracing the map of Sufism in Sudan will find that the Qadiriyya order entered Sudan through Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Bahari, who visited the Sultanate of Sennar in 1577. As for Sheikh Ahmad al-Bashir al-Tayyib (d. 1823), he introduced the Sammaniyya order, which became established alongside the Qadiriyya and Shadhiliyya orders.
The Samaniyya Order spread widely during the late Turko-Egyptian period, becoming a mass movement that eventually gave rise to the Mahdist revolution. At the same time, Sayyid Muhammad Uthman al-Mirghani al-Kabir arrived in Sudan in 1818, sent by his teacher Ahmad ibn Idris. He founded the Khatmiyya Order which became a major order with a centralized system of organisation. The order gained a significant following especially in the northern, eastern, and Kordofan regions of Sudan. It also extended deeply into Eritrea, Egypt, and the Arabian Peninsula.
The Tijaniyya order, which emerged from the Shadhiliyya and Khalwatiyya orders, was introduced to Sudan by Sheikh Muhammad al-Shanqeeti in 1847. Its first prominent center was at the khalwas of Al-Ghubush, west of the city of Berber in the Nile River State. It became the principal Sufi order in the Fur Sultanate. The Khatmiyya order gave rise to the Isma’iliyya order, founded by Sheikh Isma’il al-Wali (d. 1863), while the Shadhiliyya order produced the Majdhubiyya order. Additionally, the Burhaniyya order gained fame in Khartoum, Egypt, Germany, and among Muslims in Europe.
These Sufi orders, which span nearly all parts of Sudan, historically integrated with tribal structures as their adherents demonstrated spiritual loyalty to the descendants of the Prophet’s family (Ahl al-Bayt). Gradually, distinctions became blurred making it difficult to differentiate between tribal and spiritual affiliations.
Initially, Sufism in Sudan was spontaneous, functioning as a shared social contract between the state and society. For instance, during the long reign of the Sennar Sultanate (1504–1821), Sufism was widespread and unstructured. Sheikh Muhammad Wad Daifallah documented this era in his famous book Tabaqat Wad Daifallah. Despite the generally serene disposition of Sudanese Sufis, Imam Muhammad Ahmad al-Mahdi managed to revolutionize Sufism, transforming it into a governing system that lasted 13 years (1885–1898).
Returning to the public sphere north of the 13th parallel, people gather at the Mawlid grounds annually for 12 days of celebration, marked by drumming, chants, and vibrant, colourful attire. The Mawlid grounds become a space that tests and celebrates diversity in every aspect: people, colours, sounds, lights, opinions, and ideas. It is a space where everyone’s presence is legitimized, and everyone participates in shaping it, as it reflects the meaning of their lives in that moment.
In his book Al-Maseed, Al-Tayeb Muhammad al-Tayeb highlights another public space next to the Mawlid grounds: the Maseed. This place is described as an institution with “a remarkable ability to dissolve racial, tribal, and regional barriers,” playing a similarly integrative role in society.
Cover Picture © Sari Omer Omdurman, Celebrations of Sufis for the Moulid (Prophet’s birthday) in the Khalifa Mosque “Maidan” Omdurman.
For centuries, this land has been characterized by being a blend of ethnicities, occupied by the Bedouin spirit with all its implications of clan and cohesion. This was true until it gained its Ibn Khaldunian name: Sudan (Land of the Blacks), in contrast to Bilad al-Bidan (the Land of the Whites).
Its general features were infused with the spirit of Christian religiosity, but this gradually shifted in favour of another religion—Islam—which captivated people's souls and flowed into their broader public sphere.
In the visual public sphere for instance, Maydan al-Mawlid, public squares where the birth of the Prophet Muhammad is celebrated, serve as a defining feature of modern Sudanese cities, especially the larger of these spaces. These areas, proposed by the Sufis, are an essential component of Sudanese culture. To illustrate; It is impossible to read the corpus of Sudanese Arabic literature without encountering this tolerant, sacred, and festive space:
“This day is the field of longing,
Where yearning delights the afflicted.
The people’s faces, like cheerful gardens,
Blessed by the holy rain of saints.”
(Abdullah Abdulrahman al-Dharir)
To this day, the Mawlid Square, established through the vision of the Sufis, remains one of the most liberating and inclusive spaces in Sudanese culture. Architecturally, it is an open area adorned with various types of fabric tents erected as throughout.
By the late 13th and early 14th centuries, Islam entered Sudan, and the Kingdom of Maqarra abandoned Christianity, transforming into smaller Arab-influenced emirates. By the early 16th century, the Christian Kingdom of Alawa had also ceased to be Christian, and the southernmost boundaries of Islam settled along the 13th parallel north of the equator.
Over the next three centuries, Islam solidified its influence. During this period, prominent religious families established themselves, spreading the traits of the new faith into the country’s public sphere. Sufi lodges became the nuclei of a distinct Islamic civilization, as noted by British missionary Spencer Trimingham in his significant work, A History of Islam in Sudan. What has consistently distinguished Sudanese religiosity is its Sufi character which is predominantly characterized, more precisely, by its Hijazi and Maghrebi essence.
Over time, the principles of a "Sufi universality" took root in the collective consciousness. Making Baghdad the center of the Sufi community with the Hijaz viewed as the axis of existence. This new foundation tamed earlier tribalism with the Sufi order becoming a unifying social contract.
Anyone tracing the map of Sufism in Sudan will find that the Qadiriyya order entered Sudan through Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Bahari, who visited the Sultanate of Sennar in 1577. As for Sheikh Ahmad al-Bashir al-Tayyib (d. 1823), he introduced the Sammaniyya order, which became established alongside the Qadiriyya and Shadhiliyya orders.
The Samaniyya Order spread widely during the late Turko-Egyptian period, becoming a mass movement that eventually gave rise to the Mahdist revolution. At the same time, Sayyid Muhammad Uthman al-Mirghani al-Kabir arrived in Sudan in 1818, sent by his teacher Ahmad ibn Idris. He founded the Khatmiyya Order which became a major order with a centralized system of organisation. The order gained a significant following especially in the northern, eastern, and Kordofan regions of Sudan. It also extended deeply into Eritrea, Egypt, and the Arabian Peninsula.
The Tijaniyya order, which emerged from the Shadhiliyya and Khalwatiyya orders, was introduced to Sudan by Sheikh Muhammad al-Shanqeeti in 1847. Its first prominent center was at the khalwas of Al-Ghubush, west of the city of Berber in the Nile River State. It became the principal Sufi order in the Fur Sultanate. The Khatmiyya order gave rise to the Isma’iliyya order, founded by Sheikh Isma’il al-Wali (d. 1863), while the Shadhiliyya order produced the Majdhubiyya order. Additionally, the Burhaniyya order gained fame in Khartoum, Egypt, Germany, and among Muslims in Europe.
These Sufi orders, which span nearly all parts of Sudan, historically integrated with tribal structures as their adherents demonstrated spiritual loyalty to the descendants of the Prophet’s family (Ahl al-Bayt). Gradually, distinctions became blurred making it difficult to differentiate between tribal and spiritual affiliations.
Initially, Sufism in Sudan was spontaneous, functioning as a shared social contract between the state and society. For instance, during the long reign of the Sennar Sultanate (1504–1821), Sufism was widespread and unstructured. Sheikh Muhammad Wad Daifallah documented this era in his famous book Tabaqat Wad Daifallah. Despite the generally serene disposition of Sudanese Sufis, Imam Muhammad Ahmad al-Mahdi managed to revolutionize Sufism, transforming it into a governing system that lasted 13 years (1885–1898).
Returning to the public sphere north of the 13th parallel, people gather at the Mawlid grounds annually for 12 days of celebration, marked by drumming, chants, and vibrant, colourful attire. The Mawlid grounds become a space that tests and celebrates diversity in every aspect: people, colours, sounds, lights, opinions, and ideas. It is a space where everyone’s presence is legitimized, and everyone participates in shaping it, as it reflects the meaning of their lives in that moment.
In his book Al-Maseed, Al-Tayeb Muhammad al-Tayeb highlights another public space next to the Mawlid grounds: the Maseed. This place is described as an institution with “a remarkable ability to dissolve racial, tribal, and regional barriers,” playing a similarly integrative role in society.
Cover Picture © Sari Omer Omdurman, Celebrations of Sufis for the Moulid (Prophet’s birthday) in the Khalifa Mosque “Maidan” Omdurman.
For centuries, this land has been characterized by being a blend of ethnicities, occupied by the Bedouin spirit with all its implications of clan and cohesion. This was true until it gained its Ibn Khaldunian name: Sudan (Land of the Blacks), in contrast to Bilad al-Bidan (the Land of the Whites).
Its general features were infused with the spirit of Christian religiosity, but this gradually shifted in favour of another religion—Islam—which captivated people's souls and flowed into their broader public sphere.
In the visual public sphere for instance, Maydan al-Mawlid, public squares where the birth of the Prophet Muhammad is celebrated, serve as a defining feature of modern Sudanese cities, especially the larger of these spaces. These areas, proposed by the Sufis, are an essential component of Sudanese culture. To illustrate; It is impossible to read the corpus of Sudanese Arabic literature without encountering this tolerant, sacred, and festive space:
“This day is the field of longing,
Where yearning delights the afflicted.
The people’s faces, like cheerful gardens,
Blessed by the holy rain of saints.”
(Abdullah Abdulrahman al-Dharir)
To this day, the Mawlid Square, established through the vision of the Sufis, remains one of the most liberating and inclusive spaces in Sudanese culture. Architecturally, it is an open area adorned with various types of fabric tents erected as throughout.
By the late 13th and early 14th centuries, Islam entered Sudan, and the Kingdom of Maqarra abandoned Christianity, transforming into smaller Arab-influenced emirates. By the early 16th century, the Christian Kingdom of Alawa had also ceased to be Christian, and the southernmost boundaries of Islam settled along the 13th parallel north of the equator.
Over the next three centuries, Islam solidified its influence. During this period, prominent religious families established themselves, spreading the traits of the new faith into the country’s public sphere. Sufi lodges became the nuclei of a distinct Islamic civilization, as noted by British missionary Spencer Trimingham in his significant work, A History of Islam in Sudan. What has consistently distinguished Sudanese religiosity is its Sufi character which is predominantly characterized, more precisely, by its Hijazi and Maghrebi essence.
Over time, the principles of a "Sufi universality" took root in the collective consciousness. Making Baghdad the center of the Sufi community with the Hijaz viewed as the axis of existence. This new foundation tamed earlier tribalism with the Sufi order becoming a unifying social contract.
Anyone tracing the map of Sufism in Sudan will find that the Qadiriyya order entered Sudan through Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Bahari, who visited the Sultanate of Sennar in 1577. As for Sheikh Ahmad al-Bashir al-Tayyib (d. 1823), he introduced the Sammaniyya order, which became established alongside the Qadiriyya and Shadhiliyya orders.
The Samaniyya Order spread widely during the late Turko-Egyptian period, becoming a mass movement that eventually gave rise to the Mahdist revolution. At the same time, Sayyid Muhammad Uthman al-Mirghani al-Kabir arrived in Sudan in 1818, sent by his teacher Ahmad ibn Idris. He founded the Khatmiyya Order which became a major order with a centralized system of organisation. The order gained a significant following especially in the northern, eastern, and Kordofan regions of Sudan. It also extended deeply into Eritrea, Egypt, and the Arabian Peninsula.
The Tijaniyya order, which emerged from the Shadhiliyya and Khalwatiyya orders, was introduced to Sudan by Sheikh Muhammad al-Shanqeeti in 1847. Its first prominent center was at the khalwas of Al-Ghubush, west of the city of Berber in the Nile River State. It became the principal Sufi order in the Fur Sultanate. The Khatmiyya order gave rise to the Isma’iliyya order, founded by Sheikh Isma’il al-Wali (d. 1863), while the Shadhiliyya order produced the Majdhubiyya order. Additionally, the Burhaniyya order gained fame in Khartoum, Egypt, Germany, and among Muslims in Europe.
These Sufi orders, which span nearly all parts of Sudan, historically integrated with tribal structures as their adherents demonstrated spiritual loyalty to the descendants of the Prophet’s family (Ahl al-Bayt). Gradually, distinctions became blurred making it difficult to differentiate between tribal and spiritual affiliations.
Initially, Sufism in Sudan was spontaneous, functioning as a shared social contract between the state and society. For instance, during the long reign of the Sennar Sultanate (1504–1821), Sufism was widespread and unstructured. Sheikh Muhammad Wad Daifallah documented this era in his famous book Tabaqat Wad Daifallah. Despite the generally serene disposition of Sudanese Sufis, Imam Muhammad Ahmad al-Mahdi managed to revolutionize Sufism, transforming it into a governing system that lasted 13 years (1885–1898).
Returning to the public sphere north of the 13th parallel, people gather at the Mawlid grounds annually for 12 days of celebration, marked by drumming, chants, and vibrant, colourful attire. The Mawlid grounds become a space that tests and celebrates diversity in every aspect: people, colours, sounds, lights, opinions, and ideas. It is a space where everyone’s presence is legitimized, and everyone participates in shaping it, as it reflects the meaning of their lives in that moment.
In his book Al-Maseed, Al-Tayeb Muhammad al-Tayeb highlights another public space next to the Mawlid grounds: the Maseed. This place is described as an institution with “a remarkable ability to dissolve racial, tribal, and regional barriers,” playing a similarly integrative role in society.
Cover Picture © Sari Omer Omdurman, Celebrations of Sufis for the Moulid (Prophet’s birthday) in the Khalifa Mosque “Maidan” Omdurman.
Story of resilience
Story of resilience
“What resilience means to me” - the journey of a young Sudanese filmmaker
Resilience, identity and cultural memory are some of the main themes that run through the work of young Sudanese filmmaker Ibrahim Ahmad, aka Brahim Snoopy. This is because they are traits which resonate with him personally and which he looks out for when he is choosing which stories to tell.
Snoopy’s connection to the Sudanese filmmaking industry began when he took on an acting role in a small production when he was still at university in Khartoum. This experience, in 2013, was a catalyst for Snoopy who sensed his own potential to become more involved in the industry and to even produce his own films. Together with a group of friends who shared his vision of striking out alone, they set up their own production company, which they called In Deep Visions. The company started small with short productions including a fiction film Marina and two short horror movies The Curse and The Curse ll. While working at the company, Snoopy continued to be involved with other filmmakers and their productions as an actor or cameraman. One example is his shooting of the film Khartoum Offside directed by Marwa Zein about the travails of a Sudanese women’s football team trying to defy social and political odds to play their beloved game professionally.
The Sudanese Revolution of 2018-2019 was a historic moment which inspired young creatives with the sense of freedom and change it promised. Snoopy and In Deep Visions were no exception. He took part in shooting the film Sudan Remember Us directed by Hind Meddeb, which captured the joy and hope of the Sudanese people during their Revolution. A Journey to Kenya, a film documenting the trip undertaken by a Sudanese jiu-jitsu team to take part in a tournament in Kenya with minimal funds and having to overcome countless adversities en route in their clapped out mini-bus, was produced by In Deep Visions shortly after hopes of the Revolution’s success began to diminish.
Another monumental event for Sudan was the war that broke out in 2023 and which shattered the lives of millions with the extreme violence that was unleashed. As a result, Snoopy and many other young creatives were forced to leave Sudan, with many of them settling in neighbouring countries. Now residing in Kenya, Snoopy continues to work on a range of projects including co-directing the feature documentary Khartoum, a joint production by ‘Native Film Voices’ and the ‘Sudan Film Factory’. Shooting on this film began before the war following the lives of five individuals in Khartoum and the adversities they have to overcome. The film had not yet been finalised when fighting broke out and as a result, the team has had to tweak the storyline and creative cinematic effects were incorporated to finalise production.
Stories of resilience, according to Snoopy, are of becoming a success story and of accomplishing dreams or achieving goals. He believes that while everyone has dreams and goals in life, not everyone can achieve these, sometimes because they lack inspiration or knowledge of how to proceed. In order to achieve their goals, Snoopy claims they must have a plan and be inspired by someone from their own community, “I need the Michael Jordan of my own community so that I can believe in myself more”, he explains. Spoopy points out that while many inspiring Sudanese success stories can be found on sites like Facebook, most of the time these types of stories are not represented or documented. According to the young filmmaker, having the determination to achieve goals is not contingent on age, gender or any other classification, but emphasises the importance of how this goal is reached such as whether it is achieved with others or the pace at which it is realised. Sometimes “just surviving another day is also a form of resilience”, he points out.
In response to a question about whether he thinks there is a typically Sudanese form of resilience, snoopy explains that whilst determination to achieve a specific goal is a universal attribute, small details can be said to be uniquely Sudanese, giving the example of recent protests in Kenya and how they were organised compared to how youth in Sudan mobilised during the Revolution. One of the most recent productions by In Deep Visions is the music video We’ll Return Again which taps into the resilience of the Sudanese who have had to flee the war and their deep longing to return. Snoopy describes the music and lyrics of the song as emotional and uplifting, unlike the melancholy tunes of other Sudanese songs that have been produced during wartime. The song is one of hope, telling those Sudanese who have remained in the country that “we are coming back” and that “we want to send you this message to say that we haven’t forgotten about you.”
Perhaps the best way to appreciate Snoopy’s resilience is to see what he and his friends at In Deep Visions have achieved since they set out to make their own films ten years ago. Through sheer grit and determination, they have overcome all the set-backs and “dramas” that creatives face on a daily basis in Sudan and most importantly the brutal circumstances of repression and war. An accolade of local awards including at the Taharqa, Sudan Independent, Khartoum and European film festivals have made Snoopy a household name in Sudan. This trust placed in him by the public has in turn boosted the filmmaker’s confidence in himself. It is no surprise therefore to learn that Khartoum, the film Snoopy is co-directing, is scheduled for screening in early 2025 at the prestigious, and internationally renowned, Sundance film festival. Snoopy is extremely proud of this achievement and points out that it has not been a coincidence or luck but rather the result of very hard work, creativity and determination.
On the song:
Production: In Deep Vision films and performed by Moawia Ahmed Khalid, Mohamed Adam Abu, Beha Al-ameen, and Shamseldien Alhag came out on the 10th of October “The World Mental Health Day”. The song was Produced by Niile and written by Mahmoud Algaily.
you can listen to “Raj3een Tany” official song on Soundcloud
Sponsored by Tarco aviation , Cashi, 106.6 PRO FM
Poster design : Nihal Kamal
“What resilience means to me” - the journey of a young Sudanese filmmaker
Resilience, identity and cultural memory are some of the main themes that run through the work of young Sudanese filmmaker Ibrahim Ahmad, aka Brahim Snoopy. This is because they are traits which resonate with him personally and which he looks out for when he is choosing which stories to tell.
Snoopy’s connection to the Sudanese filmmaking industry began when he took on an acting role in a small production when he was still at university in Khartoum. This experience, in 2013, was a catalyst for Snoopy who sensed his own potential to become more involved in the industry and to even produce his own films. Together with a group of friends who shared his vision of striking out alone, they set up their own production company, which they called In Deep Visions. The company started small with short productions including a fiction film Marina and two short horror movies The Curse and The Curse ll. While working at the company, Snoopy continued to be involved with other filmmakers and their productions as an actor or cameraman. One example is his shooting of the film Khartoum Offside directed by Marwa Zein about the travails of a Sudanese women’s football team trying to defy social and political odds to play their beloved game professionally.
The Sudanese Revolution of 2018-2019 was a historic moment which inspired young creatives with the sense of freedom and change it promised. Snoopy and In Deep Visions were no exception. He took part in shooting the film Sudan Remember Us directed by Hind Meddeb, which captured the joy and hope of the Sudanese people during their Revolution. A Journey to Kenya, a film documenting the trip undertaken by a Sudanese jiu-jitsu team to take part in a tournament in Kenya with minimal funds and having to overcome countless adversities en route in their clapped out mini-bus, was produced by In Deep Visions shortly after hopes of the Revolution’s success began to diminish.
Another monumental event for Sudan was the war that broke out in 2023 and which shattered the lives of millions with the extreme violence that was unleashed. As a result, Snoopy and many other young creatives were forced to leave Sudan, with many of them settling in neighbouring countries. Now residing in Kenya, Snoopy continues to work on a range of projects including co-directing the feature documentary Khartoum, a joint production by ‘Native Film Voices’ and the ‘Sudan Film Factory’. Shooting on this film began before the war following the lives of five individuals in Khartoum and the adversities they have to overcome. The film had not yet been finalised when fighting broke out and as a result, the team has had to tweak the storyline and creative cinematic effects were incorporated to finalise production.
Stories of resilience, according to Snoopy, are of becoming a success story and of accomplishing dreams or achieving goals. He believes that while everyone has dreams and goals in life, not everyone can achieve these, sometimes because they lack inspiration or knowledge of how to proceed. In order to achieve their goals, Snoopy claims they must have a plan and be inspired by someone from their own community, “I need the Michael Jordan of my own community so that I can believe in myself more”, he explains. Spoopy points out that while many inspiring Sudanese success stories can be found on sites like Facebook, most of the time these types of stories are not represented or documented. According to the young filmmaker, having the determination to achieve goals is not contingent on age, gender or any other classification, but emphasises the importance of how this goal is reached such as whether it is achieved with others or the pace at which it is realised. Sometimes “just surviving another day is also a form of resilience”, he points out.
In response to a question about whether he thinks there is a typically Sudanese form of resilience, snoopy explains that whilst determination to achieve a specific goal is a universal attribute, small details can be said to be uniquely Sudanese, giving the example of recent protests in Kenya and how they were organised compared to how youth in Sudan mobilised during the Revolution. One of the most recent productions by In Deep Visions is the music video We’ll Return Again which taps into the resilience of the Sudanese who have had to flee the war and their deep longing to return. Snoopy describes the music and lyrics of the song as emotional and uplifting, unlike the melancholy tunes of other Sudanese songs that have been produced during wartime. The song is one of hope, telling those Sudanese who have remained in the country that “we are coming back” and that “we want to send you this message to say that we haven’t forgotten about you.”
Perhaps the best way to appreciate Snoopy’s resilience is to see what he and his friends at In Deep Visions have achieved since they set out to make their own films ten years ago. Through sheer grit and determination, they have overcome all the set-backs and “dramas” that creatives face on a daily basis in Sudan and most importantly the brutal circumstances of repression and war. An accolade of local awards including at the Taharqa, Sudan Independent, Khartoum and European film festivals have made Snoopy a household name in Sudan. This trust placed in him by the public has in turn boosted the filmmaker’s confidence in himself. It is no surprise therefore to learn that Khartoum, the film Snoopy is co-directing, is scheduled for screening in early 2025 at the prestigious, and internationally renowned, Sundance film festival. Snoopy is extremely proud of this achievement and points out that it has not been a coincidence or luck but rather the result of very hard work, creativity and determination.
On the song:
Production: In Deep Vision films and performed by Moawia Ahmed Khalid, Mohamed Adam Abu, Beha Al-ameen, and Shamseldien Alhag came out on the 10th of October “The World Mental Health Day”. The song was Produced by Niile and written by Mahmoud Algaily.
you can listen to “Raj3een Tany” official song on Soundcloud
Sponsored by Tarco aviation , Cashi, 106.6 PRO FM
Poster design : Nihal Kamal
“What resilience means to me” - the journey of a young Sudanese filmmaker
Resilience, identity and cultural memory are some of the main themes that run through the work of young Sudanese filmmaker Ibrahim Ahmad, aka Brahim Snoopy. This is because they are traits which resonate with him personally and which he looks out for when he is choosing which stories to tell.
Snoopy’s connection to the Sudanese filmmaking industry began when he took on an acting role in a small production when he was still at university in Khartoum. This experience, in 2013, was a catalyst for Snoopy who sensed his own potential to become more involved in the industry and to even produce his own films. Together with a group of friends who shared his vision of striking out alone, they set up their own production company, which they called In Deep Visions. The company started small with short productions including a fiction film Marina and two short horror movies The Curse and The Curse ll. While working at the company, Snoopy continued to be involved with other filmmakers and their productions as an actor or cameraman. One example is his shooting of the film Khartoum Offside directed by Marwa Zein about the travails of a Sudanese women’s football team trying to defy social and political odds to play their beloved game professionally.
The Sudanese Revolution of 2018-2019 was a historic moment which inspired young creatives with the sense of freedom and change it promised. Snoopy and In Deep Visions were no exception. He took part in shooting the film Sudan Remember Us directed by Hind Meddeb, which captured the joy and hope of the Sudanese people during their Revolution. A Journey to Kenya, a film documenting the trip undertaken by a Sudanese jiu-jitsu team to take part in a tournament in Kenya with minimal funds and having to overcome countless adversities en route in their clapped out mini-bus, was produced by In Deep Visions shortly after hopes of the Revolution’s success began to diminish.
Another monumental event for Sudan was the war that broke out in 2023 and which shattered the lives of millions with the extreme violence that was unleashed. As a result, Snoopy and many other young creatives were forced to leave Sudan, with many of them settling in neighbouring countries. Now residing in Kenya, Snoopy continues to work on a range of projects including co-directing the feature documentary Khartoum, a joint production by ‘Native Film Voices’ and the ‘Sudan Film Factory’. Shooting on this film began before the war following the lives of five individuals in Khartoum and the adversities they have to overcome. The film had not yet been finalised when fighting broke out and as a result, the team has had to tweak the storyline and creative cinematic effects were incorporated to finalise production.
Stories of resilience, according to Snoopy, are of becoming a success story and of accomplishing dreams or achieving goals. He believes that while everyone has dreams and goals in life, not everyone can achieve these, sometimes because they lack inspiration or knowledge of how to proceed. In order to achieve their goals, Snoopy claims they must have a plan and be inspired by someone from their own community, “I need the Michael Jordan of my own community so that I can believe in myself more”, he explains. Spoopy points out that while many inspiring Sudanese success stories can be found on sites like Facebook, most of the time these types of stories are not represented or documented. According to the young filmmaker, having the determination to achieve goals is not contingent on age, gender or any other classification, but emphasises the importance of how this goal is reached such as whether it is achieved with others or the pace at which it is realised. Sometimes “just surviving another day is also a form of resilience”, he points out.
In response to a question about whether he thinks there is a typically Sudanese form of resilience, snoopy explains that whilst determination to achieve a specific goal is a universal attribute, small details can be said to be uniquely Sudanese, giving the example of recent protests in Kenya and how they were organised compared to how youth in Sudan mobilised during the Revolution. One of the most recent productions by In Deep Visions is the music video We’ll Return Again which taps into the resilience of the Sudanese who have had to flee the war and their deep longing to return. Snoopy describes the music and lyrics of the song as emotional and uplifting, unlike the melancholy tunes of other Sudanese songs that have been produced during wartime. The song is one of hope, telling those Sudanese who have remained in the country that “we are coming back” and that “we want to send you this message to say that we haven’t forgotten about you.”
Perhaps the best way to appreciate Snoopy’s resilience is to see what he and his friends at In Deep Visions have achieved since they set out to make their own films ten years ago. Through sheer grit and determination, they have overcome all the set-backs and “dramas” that creatives face on a daily basis in Sudan and most importantly the brutal circumstances of repression and war. An accolade of local awards including at the Taharqa, Sudan Independent, Khartoum and European film festivals have made Snoopy a household name in Sudan. This trust placed in him by the public has in turn boosted the filmmaker’s confidence in himself. It is no surprise therefore to learn that Khartoum, the film Snoopy is co-directing, is scheduled for screening in early 2025 at the prestigious, and internationally renowned, Sundance film festival. Snoopy is extremely proud of this achievement and points out that it has not been a coincidence or luck but rather the result of very hard work, creativity and determination.
On the song:
Production: In Deep Vision films and performed by Moawia Ahmed Khalid, Mohamed Adam Abu, Beha Al-ameen, and Shamseldien Alhag came out on the 10th of October “The World Mental Health Day”. The song was Produced by Niile and written by Mahmoud Algaily.
you can listen to “Raj3een Tany” official song on Soundcloud
Sponsored by Tarco aviation , Cashi, 106.6 PRO FM
Poster design : Nihal Kamal
Playtime Al-Sururab
Playtime Al-Sururab
In alleyways, town squares, on patios and under the shade of Neem trees, you’d hear children call out “where is Shelail? He was eaten by a lion. Where did he go? He was eaten by a crocodile.”
These are the chants we shouted out as children while searching for Shelail, an object like a bone or a stone, that had been hidden in some dark recess or thrown away into the distance. Shelail, and other traditional games, filled our childhood days and now, in adulthood, form an important part of our memories. Games in Sudan vary by region and cultural heritage but they share the common role of strengthening social bonds and developing children’s physical and mental skills.
We never really needed much to play with; socks stuffed into one another to form a ball; a water hose was a perfect skipping rope; a couple of bricks or pair of shoes marked goalposts; and scraps of fabric found around the home were enough to craft dolls like "banat um luab." Playing wasn’t just for children, either. Games like "Dafory," the name of street football in Sudan, brought everyone together, often culminating in neighbourhood tournaments.
These types of games gave us all the joy we needed in our childhood a long time before video games and children’s channels even existed. Streets and open spaces echoed with the sounds of children’s laughter, cheers, and sometimes quarrels and disputes over game rules.
Recently, these traditional games have regained popularity in Khartoum and other cities. The ongoing war accompanied by prolonged power cuts and frequent internet outages have forced families to flee their homes and children are resorting to these games as a form of safe haven. Many now find themselves in ancestral homes, shelters, schools, or refugee camps across Sudan and beyond. In these new settings, they play the same games their parents and grandparents once played, turning these activities into a source of comfort, a way to build friendships, and a means to foster resilience amidst the chaos of war.
Mazin Alrasheed’s Experience in Al-Sururab
Since the war began, Al-Sururab, a rural neighbourhood in northern Omdurman, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families. At Al-Sururab’s "takiyya," a community kitchen that also provides healthcare services for both displaced families and local residents, the photographer Mazin Alrasheed shared his experience of working with children at the centre and the games they play.
Mazin, who lives in Al-Sururab and is one of the core supporters of the community kitchen, observed that local children from the neighbourhood preferred playing street football, often spending the entire day outside. Meanwhile, displaced children leaned towards activities like building mud structures, crafting cardboard homes, drawing, and playing marbles, games that Mazin himself, and previous generations before that, had played albeit with some modern adaptations. For instance, in the game "Kambalat," the triangular stack of empty tomato puree tins, which children aimed to knock down, were replaced with plastic water bottles.
To foster creativity and a sense of camaraderie, Mazin organized joint activities for local and displaced children. He started with a competition to build a car out of pieces of discarded plastic which involved 18 children, followed by a cardboard house contest and mud sculpture events. These activities helped the children form friendships and develop skills, much to the delight of their parents, particularly the mothers who appreciated the constructive use of their children’s time. Some mothers even joined in with the games, further strengthening family bonds.
Inspired by the community’s enthusiasm, Mazin revived the old Sururab tradition of an annual village competition. This event, which had stopped years ago, involved multi-generational teams led by grandparents, competing in various games. Mazin modernized the event by including mothers, expanding participation beyond the traditional male constituents.
In yet another activity, Aunt Salwa, a 70-year-old resident, began crafting "banat um luab" dolls using leftover fabrics and old garments. She carefully twists and ties the fabric to create the dolls’ bodies, heads, arms, and legs, then selects cloth for their dresses and wraps. She adds beads or draws eyes on the faces and finishes the dolls off with black fabric for hair. Initially, Aunt Salwa made these dolls for girls in neighbouring homes but soon girls from both displaced and local families started coming to her for their own handmade dolls.
The Sururab experience highlights the importance of play for children during war and times of hardship. Children’s games give young people the chance to immerse themselves in play and enjoy their childhood and to build resilience through playing with others.
In alleyways, town squares, on patios and under the shade of Neem trees, you’d hear children call out “where is Shelail? He was eaten by a lion. Where did he go? He was eaten by a crocodile.”
These are the chants we shouted out as children while searching for Shelail, an object like a bone or a stone, that had been hidden in some dark recess or thrown away into the distance. Shelail, and other traditional games, filled our childhood days and now, in adulthood, form an important part of our memories. Games in Sudan vary by region and cultural heritage but they share the common role of strengthening social bonds and developing children’s physical and mental skills.
We never really needed much to play with; socks stuffed into one another to form a ball; a water hose was a perfect skipping rope; a couple of bricks or pair of shoes marked goalposts; and scraps of fabric found around the home were enough to craft dolls like "banat um luab." Playing wasn’t just for children, either. Games like "Dafory," the name of street football in Sudan, brought everyone together, often culminating in neighbourhood tournaments.
These types of games gave us all the joy we needed in our childhood a long time before video games and children’s channels even existed. Streets and open spaces echoed with the sounds of children’s laughter, cheers, and sometimes quarrels and disputes over game rules.
Recently, these traditional games have regained popularity in Khartoum and other cities. The ongoing war accompanied by prolonged power cuts and frequent internet outages have forced families to flee their homes and children are resorting to these games as a form of safe haven. Many now find themselves in ancestral homes, shelters, schools, or refugee camps across Sudan and beyond. In these new settings, they play the same games their parents and grandparents once played, turning these activities into a source of comfort, a way to build friendships, and a means to foster resilience amidst the chaos of war.
Mazin Alrasheed’s Experience in Al-Sururab
Since the war began, Al-Sururab, a rural neighbourhood in northern Omdurman, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families. At Al-Sururab’s "takiyya," a community kitchen that also provides healthcare services for both displaced families and local residents, the photographer Mazin Alrasheed shared his experience of working with children at the centre and the games they play.
Mazin, who lives in Al-Sururab and is one of the core supporters of the community kitchen, observed that local children from the neighbourhood preferred playing street football, often spending the entire day outside. Meanwhile, displaced children leaned towards activities like building mud structures, crafting cardboard homes, drawing, and playing marbles, games that Mazin himself, and previous generations before that, had played albeit with some modern adaptations. For instance, in the game "Kambalat," the triangular stack of empty tomato puree tins, which children aimed to knock down, were replaced with plastic water bottles.
To foster creativity and a sense of camaraderie, Mazin organized joint activities for local and displaced children. He started with a competition to build a car out of pieces of discarded plastic which involved 18 children, followed by a cardboard house contest and mud sculpture events. These activities helped the children form friendships and develop skills, much to the delight of their parents, particularly the mothers who appreciated the constructive use of their children’s time. Some mothers even joined in with the games, further strengthening family bonds.
Inspired by the community’s enthusiasm, Mazin revived the old Sururab tradition of an annual village competition. This event, which had stopped years ago, involved multi-generational teams led by grandparents, competing in various games. Mazin modernized the event by including mothers, expanding participation beyond the traditional male constituents.
In yet another activity, Aunt Salwa, a 70-year-old resident, began crafting "banat um luab" dolls using leftover fabrics and old garments. She carefully twists and ties the fabric to create the dolls’ bodies, heads, arms, and legs, then selects cloth for their dresses and wraps. She adds beads or draws eyes on the faces and finishes the dolls off with black fabric for hair. Initially, Aunt Salwa made these dolls for girls in neighbouring homes but soon girls from both displaced and local families started coming to her for their own handmade dolls.
The Sururab experience highlights the importance of play for children during war and times of hardship. Children’s games give young people the chance to immerse themselves in play and enjoy their childhood and to build resilience through playing with others.
In alleyways, town squares, on patios and under the shade of Neem trees, you’d hear children call out “where is Shelail? He was eaten by a lion. Where did he go? He was eaten by a crocodile.”
These are the chants we shouted out as children while searching for Shelail, an object like a bone or a stone, that had been hidden in some dark recess or thrown away into the distance. Shelail, and other traditional games, filled our childhood days and now, in adulthood, form an important part of our memories. Games in Sudan vary by region and cultural heritage but they share the common role of strengthening social bonds and developing children’s physical and mental skills.
We never really needed much to play with; socks stuffed into one another to form a ball; a water hose was a perfect skipping rope; a couple of bricks or pair of shoes marked goalposts; and scraps of fabric found around the home were enough to craft dolls like "banat um luab." Playing wasn’t just for children, either. Games like "Dafory," the name of street football in Sudan, brought everyone together, often culminating in neighbourhood tournaments.
These types of games gave us all the joy we needed in our childhood a long time before video games and children’s channels even existed. Streets and open spaces echoed with the sounds of children’s laughter, cheers, and sometimes quarrels and disputes over game rules.
Recently, these traditional games have regained popularity in Khartoum and other cities. The ongoing war accompanied by prolonged power cuts and frequent internet outages have forced families to flee their homes and children are resorting to these games as a form of safe haven. Many now find themselves in ancestral homes, shelters, schools, or refugee camps across Sudan and beyond. In these new settings, they play the same games their parents and grandparents once played, turning these activities into a source of comfort, a way to build friendships, and a means to foster resilience amidst the chaos of war.
Mazin Alrasheed’s Experience in Al-Sururab
Since the war began, Al-Sururab, a rural neighbourhood in northern Omdurman, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families. At Al-Sururab’s "takiyya," a community kitchen that also provides healthcare services for both displaced families and local residents, the photographer Mazin Alrasheed shared his experience of working with children at the centre and the games they play.
Mazin, who lives in Al-Sururab and is one of the core supporters of the community kitchen, observed that local children from the neighbourhood preferred playing street football, often spending the entire day outside. Meanwhile, displaced children leaned towards activities like building mud structures, crafting cardboard homes, drawing, and playing marbles, games that Mazin himself, and previous generations before that, had played albeit with some modern adaptations. For instance, in the game "Kambalat," the triangular stack of empty tomato puree tins, which children aimed to knock down, were replaced with plastic water bottles.
To foster creativity and a sense of camaraderie, Mazin organized joint activities for local and displaced children. He started with a competition to build a car out of pieces of discarded plastic which involved 18 children, followed by a cardboard house contest and mud sculpture events. These activities helped the children form friendships and develop skills, much to the delight of their parents, particularly the mothers who appreciated the constructive use of their children’s time. Some mothers even joined in with the games, further strengthening family bonds.
Inspired by the community’s enthusiasm, Mazin revived the old Sururab tradition of an annual village competition. This event, which had stopped years ago, involved multi-generational teams led by grandparents, competing in various games. Mazin modernized the event by including mothers, expanding participation beyond the traditional male constituents.
In yet another activity, Aunt Salwa, a 70-year-old resident, began crafting "banat um luab" dolls using leftover fabrics and old garments. She carefully twists and ties the fabric to create the dolls’ bodies, heads, arms, and legs, then selects cloth for their dresses and wraps. She adds beads or draws eyes on the faces and finishes the dolls off with black fabric for hair. Initially, Aunt Salwa made these dolls for girls in neighbouring homes but soon girls from both displaced and local families started coming to her for their own handmade dolls.
The Sururab experience highlights the importance of play for children during war and times of hardship. Children’s games give young people the chance to immerse themselves in play and enjoy their childhood and to build resilience through playing with others.
Jabanah Coffee pot
Jabanah Coffee pot
Ceramic coffee pot, made to share sweet, spiced coffee to be enjoyed with friends and
family members.
Af1948,06.32
Found/Acquired: Omdurman
Acquisition date: 1948
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Ceramic coffee pot, made to share sweet, spiced coffee to be enjoyed with friends and
family members.
Af1948,06.32
Found/Acquired: Omdurman
Acquisition date: 1948
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Ceramic coffee pot, made to share sweet, spiced coffee to be enjoyed with friends and
family members.
Af1948,06.32
Found/Acquired: Omdurman
Acquisition date: 1948
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Great Mosque
Great Mosque
During the reign of Al Imam Al Mahdi, the mosque was an open space. After his death in 1885, his followers built a surrounding mud wall to accommodate 20,000 worshippers. In 1889, they rebuilt the wall with burnt bricks and whitewashed it with white lime. They added eight openings in the wall, including a large wooden door facing Al Khalifa Abdullah's house.
The mosque had a mihrab on the eastern side, for Al Khalifa to head the daily prayers, except for Friday, and on the western side of the mosque there was a wing dedicated to women for prayer, religious education, Qur’an sessions, and reading the Ratib of Al Imam Al Mahdi. Prayer in the Great Mosque was compulsory.
The worshipers following Al Khalifa Abdullah had a specific arrangement, and, in his absence, scholars without political leanings acted on his behalf.
After the Battle of Karrari, Lord Kitchener used the area of the Great Mosque as a parade ground and an arena for the army to march. During the 1970s, the northern, eastern, and western sides of the wall were demolished to make a public park, but the project failed.
It is now one of the largest spaces in Omdurman. Religious events such as Eid prayers, the Prophet's birthday celebrations, and national celebrations are held there.
The inhabitants of Omdurman adorned their city during the religious seasons with its most festive decorations. Banners were raised, troops were paraded through the streets, drums were beaten, and Al Khalifa joined the celebrations.
Before the Great mosque get known for the celebration space for the Prophet’s (Peace Be Upon Him) birthday, Al Mawlid Al Nabawi, The Ansar would celebrate Eid Al Rajabiyah (held on the 27th of Rajab every year), Eid Al Fitr, and Eid Al Adha. On the Eid Al Adha, the city received many visitors, either to celebrate or to obey Al Khalifa Abdullah's request.
The governing Amil and the Amirs of the provinces would be summoned to the capital to renew their loyalty to him, as well as to discuss problems and find solutions. During the Eid celebrations, AlKhalifa rallied tribes whose loyalty he doubted and made them pledge their loyalty.
During the reign of Al Imam Al Mahdi, the mosque was an open space. After his death in 1885, his followers built a surrounding mud wall to accommodate 20,000 worshippers. In 1889, they rebuilt the wall with burnt bricks and whitewashed it with white lime. They added eight openings in the wall, including a large wooden door facing Al Khalifa Abdullah's house.
The mosque had a mihrab on the eastern side, for Al Khalifa to head the daily prayers, except for Friday, and on the western side of the mosque there was a wing dedicated to women for prayer, religious education, Qur’an sessions, and reading the Ratib of Al Imam Al Mahdi. Prayer in the Great Mosque was compulsory.
The worshipers following Al Khalifa Abdullah had a specific arrangement, and, in his absence, scholars without political leanings acted on his behalf.
After the Battle of Karrari, Lord Kitchener used the area of the Great Mosque as a parade ground and an arena for the army to march. During the 1970s, the northern, eastern, and western sides of the wall were demolished to make a public park, but the project failed.
It is now one of the largest spaces in Omdurman. Religious events such as Eid prayers, the Prophet's birthday celebrations, and national celebrations are held there.
The inhabitants of Omdurman adorned their city during the religious seasons with its most festive decorations. Banners were raised, troops were paraded through the streets, drums were beaten, and Al Khalifa joined the celebrations.
Before the Great mosque get known for the celebration space for the Prophet’s (Peace Be Upon Him) birthday, Al Mawlid Al Nabawi, The Ansar would celebrate Eid Al Rajabiyah (held on the 27th of Rajab every year), Eid Al Fitr, and Eid Al Adha. On the Eid Al Adha, the city received many visitors, either to celebrate or to obey Al Khalifa Abdullah's request.
The governing Amil and the Amirs of the provinces would be summoned to the capital to renew their loyalty to him, as well as to discuss problems and find solutions. During the Eid celebrations, AlKhalifa rallied tribes whose loyalty he doubted and made them pledge their loyalty.
During the reign of Al Imam Al Mahdi, the mosque was an open space. After his death in 1885, his followers built a surrounding mud wall to accommodate 20,000 worshippers. In 1889, they rebuilt the wall with burnt bricks and whitewashed it with white lime. They added eight openings in the wall, including a large wooden door facing Al Khalifa Abdullah's house.
The mosque had a mihrab on the eastern side, for Al Khalifa to head the daily prayers, except for Friday, and on the western side of the mosque there was a wing dedicated to women for prayer, religious education, Qur’an sessions, and reading the Ratib of Al Imam Al Mahdi. Prayer in the Great Mosque was compulsory.
The worshipers following Al Khalifa Abdullah had a specific arrangement, and, in his absence, scholars without political leanings acted on his behalf.
After the Battle of Karrari, Lord Kitchener used the area of the Great Mosque as a parade ground and an arena for the army to march. During the 1970s, the northern, eastern, and western sides of the wall were demolished to make a public park, but the project failed.
It is now one of the largest spaces in Omdurman. Religious events such as Eid prayers, the Prophet's birthday celebrations, and national celebrations are held there.
The inhabitants of Omdurman adorned their city during the religious seasons with its most festive decorations. Banners were raised, troops were paraded through the streets, drums were beaten, and Al Khalifa joined the celebrations.
Before the Great mosque get known for the celebration space for the Prophet’s (Peace Be Upon Him) birthday, Al Mawlid Al Nabawi, The Ansar would celebrate Eid Al Rajabiyah (held on the 27th of Rajab every year), Eid Al Fitr, and Eid Al Adha. On the Eid Al Adha, the city received many visitors, either to celebrate or to obey Al Khalifa Abdullah's request.
The governing Amil and the Amirs of the provinces would be summoned to the capital to renew their loyalty to him, as well as to discuss problems and find solutions. During the Eid celebrations, AlKhalifa rallied tribes whose loyalty he doubted and made them pledge their loyalty.
Sound of Khartoum
Sound of Khartoum
This episode gives an overview of the alternative music scene in Khartoum within the past 60 years by discussing the diverse influences leading to the emergence and development of Jazz, Zannig, and Rap musical genres in the city. We review the intersections of some of these genres with social class and politics in Khartoum and how they’ve become cultural products that were minimally represented and were not allowed to be fully legitimized by official media channels and institutions, thus they’ve historically been marginalized.
Interviewed in this episode are some of Sudan’s pioneer artists in Jazz and Zannig and through their stories, we discuss the cultural ‘otherization’ and social stigma imposed by the dominant elites against these genres. Despite these circumstances, we explore the process through which Jazz, Zannig, and Rap have become a part of the mainstream music scene in Sudan by utilizing alternative platforms such as the internet and social media.
Through this podcast, we invite Sudan’s youth to participate in the documentation and support of alternative music by any means possible.
The production team for this episode are:
Researchers and Producers: Leena Shibeika, Almuzn MohamedElhassan, Mai Abusalih, and Alrassa.
Script Writers: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Presenters: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Music: Zain Records.
Audio Mixing: Tariq Suliman.
Project Manager: Zainab Gaafar.
Technical assistance: elMastaba TV.
Recording studio: Rift Digital Lab.
This episode gives an overview of the alternative music scene in Khartoum within the past 60 years by discussing the diverse influences leading to the emergence and development of Jazz, Zannig, and Rap musical genres in the city. We review the intersections of some of these genres with social class and politics in Khartoum and how they’ve become cultural products that were minimally represented and were not allowed to be fully legitimized by official media channels and institutions, thus they’ve historically been marginalized.
Interviewed in this episode are some of Sudan’s pioneer artists in Jazz and Zannig and through their stories, we discuss the cultural ‘otherization’ and social stigma imposed by the dominant elites against these genres. Despite these circumstances, we explore the process through which Jazz, Zannig, and Rap have become a part of the mainstream music scene in Sudan by utilizing alternative platforms such as the internet and social media.
Through this podcast, we invite Sudan’s youth to participate in the documentation and support of alternative music by any means possible.
The production team for this episode are:
Researchers and Producers: Leena Shibeika, Almuzn MohamedElhassan, Mai Abusalih, and Alrassa.
Script Writers: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Presenters: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Music: Zain Records.
Audio Mixing: Tariq Suliman.
Project Manager: Zainab Gaafar.
Technical assistance: elMastaba TV.
Recording studio: Rift Digital Lab.
This episode gives an overview of the alternative music scene in Khartoum within the past 60 years by discussing the diverse influences leading to the emergence and development of Jazz, Zannig, and Rap musical genres in the city. We review the intersections of some of these genres with social class and politics in Khartoum and how they’ve become cultural products that were minimally represented and were not allowed to be fully legitimized by official media channels and institutions, thus they’ve historically been marginalized.
Interviewed in this episode are some of Sudan’s pioneer artists in Jazz and Zannig and through their stories, we discuss the cultural ‘otherization’ and social stigma imposed by the dominant elites against these genres. Despite these circumstances, we explore the process through which Jazz, Zannig, and Rap have become a part of the mainstream music scene in Sudan by utilizing alternative platforms such as the internet and social media.
Through this podcast, we invite Sudan’s youth to participate in the documentation and support of alternative music by any means possible.
The production team for this episode are:
Researchers and Producers: Leena Shibeika, Almuzn MohamedElhassan, Mai Abusalih, and Alrassa.
Script Writers: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Presenters: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Music: Zain Records.
Audio Mixing: Tariq Suliman.
Project Manager: Zainab Gaafar.
Technical assistance: elMastaba TV.
Recording studio: Rift Digital Lab.
The Sudanese House Built on Sufism
The Sudanese House Built on Sufism
For centuries, this land has been characterized by being a blend of ethnicities, occupied by the Bedouin spirit with all its implications of clan and cohesion. This was true until it gained its Ibn Khaldunian name: Sudan (Land of the Blacks), in contrast to Bilad al-Bidan (the Land of the Whites).
Its general features were infused with the spirit of Christian religiosity, but this gradually shifted in favour of another religion—Islam—which captivated people's souls and flowed into their broader public sphere.
In the visual public sphere for instance, Maydan al-Mawlid, public squares where the birth of the Prophet Muhammad is celebrated, serve as a defining feature of modern Sudanese cities, especially the larger of these spaces. These areas, proposed by the Sufis, are an essential component of Sudanese culture. To illustrate; It is impossible to read the corpus of Sudanese Arabic literature without encountering this tolerant, sacred, and festive space:
“This day is the field of longing,
Where yearning delights the afflicted.
The people’s faces, like cheerful gardens,
Blessed by the holy rain of saints.”
(Abdullah Abdulrahman al-Dharir)
To this day, the Mawlid Square, established through the vision of the Sufis, remains one of the most liberating and inclusive spaces in Sudanese culture. Architecturally, it is an open area adorned with various types of fabric tents erected as throughout.
By the late 13th and early 14th centuries, Islam entered Sudan, and the Kingdom of Maqarra abandoned Christianity, transforming into smaller Arab-influenced emirates. By the early 16th century, the Christian Kingdom of Alawa had also ceased to be Christian, and the southernmost boundaries of Islam settled along the 13th parallel north of the equator.
Over the next three centuries, Islam solidified its influence. During this period, prominent religious families established themselves, spreading the traits of the new faith into the country’s public sphere. Sufi lodges became the nuclei of a distinct Islamic civilization, as noted by British missionary Spencer Trimingham in his significant work, A History of Islam in Sudan. What has consistently distinguished Sudanese religiosity is its Sufi character which is predominantly characterized, more precisely, by its Hijazi and Maghrebi essence.
Over time, the principles of a "Sufi universality" took root in the collective consciousness. Making Baghdad the center of the Sufi community with the Hijaz viewed as the axis of existence. This new foundation tamed earlier tribalism with the Sufi order becoming a unifying social contract.
Anyone tracing the map of Sufism in Sudan will find that the Qadiriyya order entered Sudan through Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Bahari, who visited the Sultanate of Sennar in 1577. As for Sheikh Ahmad al-Bashir al-Tayyib (d. 1823), he introduced the Sammaniyya order, which became established alongside the Qadiriyya and Shadhiliyya orders.
The Samaniyya Order spread widely during the late Turko-Egyptian period, becoming a mass movement that eventually gave rise to the Mahdist revolution. At the same time, Sayyid Muhammad Uthman al-Mirghani al-Kabir arrived in Sudan in 1818, sent by his teacher Ahmad ibn Idris. He founded the Khatmiyya Order which became a major order with a centralized system of organisation. The order gained a significant following especially in the northern, eastern, and Kordofan regions of Sudan. It also extended deeply into Eritrea, Egypt, and the Arabian Peninsula.
The Tijaniyya order, which emerged from the Shadhiliyya and Khalwatiyya orders, was introduced to Sudan by Sheikh Muhammad al-Shanqeeti in 1847. Its first prominent center was at the khalwas of Al-Ghubush, west of the city of Berber in the Nile River State. It became the principal Sufi order in the Fur Sultanate. The Khatmiyya order gave rise to the Isma’iliyya order, founded by Sheikh Isma’il al-Wali (d. 1863), while the Shadhiliyya order produced the Majdhubiyya order. Additionally, the Burhaniyya order gained fame in Khartoum, Egypt, Germany, and among Muslims in Europe.
These Sufi orders, which span nearly all parts of Sudan, historically integrated with tribal structures as their adherents demonstrated spiritual loyalty to the descendants of the Prophet’s family (Ahl al-Bayt). Gradually, distinctions became blurred making it difficult to differentiate between tribal and spiritual affiliations.
Initially, Sufism in Sudan was spontaneous, functioning as a shared social contract between the state and society. For instance, during the long reign of the Sennar Sultanate (1504–1821), Sufism was widespread and unstructured. Sheikh Muhammad Wad Daifallah documented this era in his famous book Tabaqat Wad Daifallah. Despite the generally serene disposition of Sudanese Sufis, Imam Muhammad Ahmad al-Mahdi managed to revolutionize Sufism, transforming it into a governing system that lasted 13 years (1885–1898).
Returning to the public sphere north of the 13th parallel, people gather at the Mawlid grounds annually for 12 days of celebration, marked by drumming, chants, and vibrant, colourful attire. The Mawlid grounds become a space that tests and celebrates diversity in every aspect: people, colours, sounds, lights, opinions, and ideas. It is a space where everyone’s presence is legitimized, and everyone participates in shaping it, as it reflects the meaning of their lives in that moment.
In his book Al-Maseed, Al-Tayeb Muhammad al-Tayeb highlights another public space next to the Mawlid grounds: the Maseed. This place is described as an institution with “a remarkable ability to dissolve racial, tribal, and regional barriers,” playing a similarly integrative role in society.
Cover Picture © Sari Omer Omdurman, Celebrations of Sufis for the Moulid (Prophet’s birthday) in the Khalifa Mosque “Maidan” Omdurman.
For centuries, this land has been characterized by being a blend of ethnicities, occupied by the Bedouin spirit with all its implications of clan and cohesion. This was true until it gained its Ibn Khaldunian name: Sudan (Land of the Blacks), in contrast to Bilad al-Bidan (the Land of the Whites).
Its general features were infused with the spirit of Christian religiosity, but this gradually shifted in favour of another religion—Islam—which captivated people's souls and flowed into their broader public sphere.
In the visual public sphere for instance, Maydan al-Mawlid, public squares where the birth of the Prophet Muhammad is celebrated, serve as a defining feature of modern Sudanese cities, especially the larger of these spaces. These areas, proposed by the Sufis, are an essential component of Sudanese culture. To illustrate; It is impossible to read the corpus of Sudanese Arabic literature without encountering this tolerant, sacred, and festive space:
“This day is the field of longing,
Where yearning delights the afflicted.
The people’s faces, like cheerful gardens,
Blessed by the holy rain of saints.”
(Abdullah Abdulrahman al-Dharir)
To this day, the Mawlid Square, established through the vision of the Sufis, remains one of the most liberating and inclusive spaces in Sudanese culture. Architecturally, it is an open area adorned with various types of fabric tents erected as throughout.
By the late 13th and early 14th centuries, Islam entered Sudan, and the Kingdom of Maqarra abandoned Christianity, transforming into smaller Arab-influenced emirates. By the early 16th century, the Christian Kingdom of Alawa had also ceased to be Christian, and the southernmost boundaries of Islam settled along the 13th parallel north of the equator.
Over the next three centuries, Islam solidified its influence. During this period, prominent religious families established themselves, spreading the traits of the new faith into the country’s public sphere. Sufi lodges became the nuclei of a distinct Islamic civilization, as noted by British missionary Spencer Trimingham in his significant work, A History of Islam in Sudan. What has consistently distinguished Sudanese religiosity is its Sufi character which is predominantly characterized, more precisely, by its Hijazi and Maghrebi essence.
Over time, the principles of a "Sufi universality" took root in the collective consciousness. Making Baghdad the center of the Sufi community with the Hijaz viewed as the axis of existence. This new foundation tamed earlier tribalism with the Sufi order becoming a unifying social contract.
Anyone tracing the map of Sufism in Sudan will find that the Qadiriyya order entered Sudan through Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Bahari, who visited the Sultanate of Sennar in 1577. As for Sheikh Ahmad al-Bashir al-Tayyib (d. 1823), he introduced the Sammaniyya order, which became established alongside the Qadiriyya and Shadhiliyya orders.
The Samaniyya Order spread widely during the late Turko-Egyptian period, becoming a mass movement that eventually gave rise to the Mahdist revolution. At the same time, Sayyid Muhammad Uthman al-Mirghani al-Kabir arrived in Sudan in 1818, sent by his teacher Ahmad ibn Idris. He founded the Khatmiyya Order which became a major order with a centralized system of organisation. The order gained a significant following especially in the northern, eastern, and Kordofan regions of Sudan. It also extended deeply into Eritrea, Egypt, and the Arabian Peninsula.
The Tijaniyya order, which emerged from the Shadhiliyya and Khalwatiyya orders, was introduced to Sudan by Sheikh Muhammad al-Shanqeeti in 1847. Its first prominent center was at the khalwas of Al-Ghubush, west of the city of Berber in the Nile River State. It became the principal Sufi order in the Fur Sultanate. The Khatmiyya order gave rise to the Isma’iliyya order, founded by Sheikh Isma’il al-Wali (d. 1863), while the Shadhiliyya order produced the Majdhubiyya order. Additionally, the Burhaniyya order gained fame in Khartoum, Egypt, Germany, and among Muslims in Europe.
These Sufi orders, which span nearly all parts of Sudan, historically integrated with tribal structures as their adherents demonstrated spiritual loyalty to the descendants of the Prophet’s family (Ahl al-Bayt). Gradually, distinctions became blurred making it difficult to differentiate between tribal and spiritual affiliations.
Initially, Sufism in Sudan was spontaneous, functioning as a shared social contract between the state and society. For instance, during the long reign of the Sennar Sultanate (1504–1821), Sufism was widespread and unstructured. Sheikh Muhammad Wad Daifallah documented this era in his famous book Tabaqat Wad Daifallah. Despite the generally serene disposition of Sudanese Sufis, Imam Muhammad Ahmad al-Mahdi managed to revolutionize Sufism, transforming it into a governing system that lasted 13 years (1885–1898).
Returning to the public sphere north of the 13th parallel, people gather at the Mawlid grounds annually for 12 days of celebration, marked by drumming, chants, and vibrant, colourful attire. The Mawlid grounds become a space that tests and celebrates diversity in every aspect: people, colours, sounds, lights, opinions, and ideas. It is a space where everyone’s presence is legitimized, and everyone participates in shaping it, as it reflects the meaning of their lives in that moment.
In his book Al-Maseed, Al-Tayeb Muhammad al-Tayeb highlights another public space next to the Mawlid grounds: the Maseed. This place is described as an institution with “a remarkable ability to dissolve racial, tribal, and regional barriers,” playing a similarly integrative role in society.
Cover Picture © Sari Omer Omdurman, Celebrations of Sufis for the Moulid (Prophet’s birthday) in the Khalifa Mosque “Maidan” Omdurman.
For centuries, this land has been characterized by being a blend of ethnicities, occupied by the Bedouin spirit with all its implications of clan and cohesion. This was true until it gained its Ibn Khaldunian name: Sudan (Land of the Blacks), in contrast to Bilad al-Bidan (the Land of the Whites).
Its general features were infused with the spirit of Christian religiosity, but this gradually shifted in favour of another religion—Islam—which captivated people's souls and flowed into their broader public sphere.
In the visual public sphere for instance, Maydan al-Mawlid, public squares where the birth of the Prophet Muhammad is celebrated, serve as a defining feature of modern Sudanese cities, especially the larger of these spaces. These areas, proposed by the Sufis, are an essential component of Sudanese culture. To illustrate; It is impossible to read the corpus of Sudanese Arabic literature without encountering this tolerant, sacred, and festive space:
“This day is the field of longing,
Where yearning delights the afflicted.
The people’s faces, like cheerful gardens,
Blessed by the holy rain of saints.”
(Abdullah Abdulrahman al-Dharir)
To this day, the Mawlid Square, established through the vision of the Sufis, remains one of the most liberating and inclusive spaces in Sudanese culture. Architecturally, it is an open area adorned with various types of fabric tents erected as throughout.
By the late 13th and early 14th centuries, Islam entered Sudan, and the Kingdom of Maqarra abandoned Christianity, transforming into smaller Arab-influenced emirates. By the early 16th century, the Christian Kingdom of Alawa had also ceased to be Christian, and the southernmost boundaries of Islam settled along the 13th parallel north of the equator.
Over the next three centuries, Islam solidified its influence. During this period, prominent religious families established themselves, spreading the traits of the new faith into the country’s public sphere. Sufi lodges became the nuclei of a distinct Islamic civilization, as noted by British missionary Spencer Trimingham in his significant work, A History of Islam in Sudan. What has consistently distinguished Sudanese religiosity is its Sufi character which is predominantly characterized, more precisely, by its Hijazi and Maghrebi essence.
Over time, the principles of a "Sufi universality" took root in the collective consciousness. Making Baghdad the center of the Sufi community with the Hijaz viewed as the axis of existence. This new foundation tamed earlier tribalism with the Sufi order becoming a unifying social contract.
Anyone tracing the map of Sufism in Sudan will find that the Qadiriyya order entered Sudan through Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Bahari, who visited the Sultanate of Sennar in 1577. As for Sheikh Ahmad al-Bashir al-Tayyib (d. 1823), he introduced the Sammaniyya order, which became established alongside the Qadiriyya and Shadhiliyya orders.
The Samaniyya Order spread widely during the late Turko-Egyptian period, becoming a mass movement that eventually gave rise to the Mahdist revolution. At the same time, Sayyid Muhammad Uthman al-Mirghani al-Kabir arrived in Sudan in 1818, sent by his teacher Ahmad ibn Idris. He founded the Khatmiyya Order which became a major order with a centralized system of organisation. The order gained a significant following especially in the northern, eastern, and Kordofan regions of Sudan. It also extended deeply into Eritrea, Egypt, and the Arabian Peninsula.
The Tijaniyya order, which emerged from the Shadhiliyya and Khalwatiyya orders, was introduced to Sudan by Sheikh Muhammad al-Shanqeeti in 1847. Its first prominent center was at the khalwas of Al-Ghubush, west of the city of Berber in the Nile River State. It became the principal Sufi order in the Fur Sultanate. The Khatmiyya order gave rise to the Isma’iliyya order, founded by Sheikh Isma’il al-Wali (d. 1863), while the Shadhiliyya order produced the Majdhubiyya order. Additionally, the Burhaniyya order gained fame in Khartoum, Egypt, Germany, and among Muslims in Europe.
These Sufi orders, which span nearly all parts of Sudan, historically integrated with tribal structures as their adherents demonstrated spiritual loyalty to the descendants of the Prophet’s family (Ahl al-Bayt). Gradually, distinctions became blurred making it difficult to differentiate between tribal and spiritual affiliations.
Initially, Sufism in Sudan was spontaneous, functioning as a shared social contract between the state and society. For instance, during the long reign of the Sennar Sultanate (1504–1821), Sufism was widespread and unstructured. Sheikh Muhammad Wad Daifallah documented this era in his famous book Tabaqat Wad Daifallah. Despite the generally serene disposition of Sudanese Sufis, Imam Muhammad Ahmad al-Mahdi managed to revolutionize Sufism, transforming it into a governing system that lasted 13 years (1885–1898).
Returning to the public sphere north of the 13th parallel, people gather at the Mawlid grounds annually for 12 days of celebration, marked by drumming, chants, and vibrant, colourful attire. The Mawlid grounds become a space that tests and celebrates diversity in every aspect: people, colours, sounds, lights, opinions, and ideas. It is a space where everyone’s presence is legitimized, and everyone participates in shaping it, as it reflects the meaning of their lives in that moment.
In his book Al-Maseed, Al-Tayeb Muhammad al-Tayeb highlights another public space next to the Mawlid grounds: the Maseed. This place is described as an institution with “a remarkable ability to dissolve racial, tribal, and regional barriers,” playing a similarly integrative role in society.
Cover Picture © Sari Omer Omdurman, Celebrations of Sufis for the Moulid (Prophet’s birthday) in the Khalifa Mosque “Maidan” Omdurman.
Story of resilience
Story of resilience
“What resilience means to me” - the journey of a young Sudanese filmmaker
Resilience, identity and cultural memory are some of the main themes that run through the work of young Sudanese filmmaker Ibrahim Ahmad, aka Brahim Snoopy. This is because they are traits which resonate with him personally and which he looks out for when he is choosing which stories to tell.
Snoopy’s connection to the Sudanese filmmaking industry began when he took on an acting role in a small production when he was still at university in Khartoum. This experience, in 2013, was a catalyst for Snoopy who sensed his own potential to become more involved in the industry and to even produce his own films. Together with a group of friends who shared his vision of striking out alone, they set up their own production company, which they called In Deep Visions. The company started small with short productions including a fiction film Marina and two short horror movies The Curse and The Curse ll. While working at the company, Snoopy continued to be involved with other filmmakers and their productions as an actor or cameraman. One example is his shooting of the film Khartoum Offside directed by Marwa Zein about the travails of a Sudanese women’s football team trying to defy social and political odds to play their beloved game professionally.
The Sudanese Revolution of 2018-2019 was a historic moment which inspired young creatives with the sense of freedom and change it promised. Snoopy and In Deep Visions were no exception. He took part in shooting the film Sudan Remember Us directed by Hind Meddeb, which captured the joy and hope of the Sudanese people during their Revolution. A Journey to Kenya, a film documenting the trip undertaken by a Sudanese jiu-jitsu team to take part in a tournament in Kenya with minimal funds and having to overcome countless adversities en route in their clapped out mini-bus, was produced by In Deep Visions shortly after hopes of the Revolution’s success began to diminish.
Another monumental event for Sudan was the war that broke out in 2023 and which shattered the lives of millions with the extreme violence that was unleashed. As a result, Snoopy and many other young creatives were forced to leave Sudan, with many of them settling in neighbouring countries. Now residing in Kenya, Snoopy continues to work on a range of projects including co-directing the feature documentary Khartoum, a joint production by ‘Native Film Voices’ and the ‘Sudan Film Factory’. Shooting on this film began before the war following the lives of five individuals in Khartoum and the adversities they have to overcome. The film had not yet been finalised when fighting broke out and as a result, the team has had to tweak the storyline and creative cinematic effects were incorporated to finalise production.
Stories of resilience, according to Snoopy, are of becoming a success story and of accomplishing dreams or achieving goals. He believes that while everyone has dreams and goals in life, not everyone can achieve these, sometimes because they lack inspiration or knowledge of how to proceed. In order to achieve their goals, Snoopy claims they must have a plan and be inspired by someone from their own community, “I need the Michael Jordan of my own community so that I can believe in myself more”, he explains. Spoopy points out that while many inspiring Sudanese success stories can be found on sites like Facebook, most of the time these types of stories are not represented or documented. According to the young filmmaker, having the determination to achieve goals is not contingent on age, gender or any other classification, but emphasises the importance of how this goal is reached such as whether it is achieved with others or the pace at which it is realised. Sometimes “just surviving another day is also a form of resilience”, he points out.
In response to a question about whether he thinks there is a typically Sudanese form of resilience, snoopy explains that whilst determination to achieve a specific goal is a universal attribute, small details can be said to be uniquely Sudanese, giving the example of recent protests in Kenya and how they were organised compared to how youth in Sudan mobilised during the Revolution. One of the most recent productions by In Deep Visions is the music video We’ll Return Again which taps into the resilience of the Sudanese who have had to flee the war and their deep longing to return. Snoopy describes the music and lyrics of the song as emotional and uplifting, unlike the melancholy tunes of other Sudanese songs that have been produced during wartime. The song is one of hope, telling those Sudanese who have remained in the country that “we are coming back” and that “we want to send you this message to say that we haven’t forgotten about you.”
Perhaps the best way to appreciate Snoopy’s resilience is to see what he and his friends at In Deep Visions have achieved since they set out to make their own films ten years ago. Through sheer grit and determination, they have overcome all the set-backs and “dramas” that creatives face on a daily basis in Sudan and most importantly the brutal circumstances of repression and war. An accolade of local awards including at the Taharqa, Sudan Independent, Khartoum and European film festivals have made Snoopy a household name in Sudan. This trust placed in him by the public has in turn boosted the filmmaker’s confidence in himself. It is no surprise therefore to learn that Khartoum, the film Snoopy is co-directing, is scheduled for screening in early 2025 at the prestigious, and internationally renowned, Sundance film festival. Snoopy is extremely proud of this achievement and points out that it has not been a coincidence or luck but rather the result of very hard work, creativity and determination.
On the song:
Production: In Deep Vision films and performed by Moawia Ahmed Khalid, Mohamed Adam Abu, Beha Al-ameen, and Shamseldien Alhag came out on the 10th of October “The World Mental Health Day”. The song was Produced by Niile and written by Mahmoud Algaily.
you can listen to “Raj3een Tany” official song on Soundcloud
Sponsored by Tarco aviation , Cashi, 106.6 PRO FM
Poster design : Nihal Kamal
“What resilience means to me” - the journey of a young Sudanese filmmaker
Resilience, identity and cultural memory are some of the main themes that run through the work of young Sudanese filmmaker Ibrahim Ahmad, aka Brahim Snoopy. This is because they are traits which resonate with him personally and which he looks out for when he is choosing which stories to tell.
Snoopy’s connection to the Sudanese filmmaking industry began when he took on an acting role in a small production when he was still at university in Khartoum. This experience, in 2013, was a catalyst for Snoopy who sensed his own potential to become more involved in the industry and to even produce his own films. Together with a group of friends who shared his vision of striking out alone, they set up their own production company, which they called In Deep Visions. The company started small with short productions including a fiction film Marina and two short horror movies The Curse and The Curse ll. While working at the company, Snoopy continued to be involved with other filmmakers and their productions as an actor or cameraman. One example is his shooting of the film Khartoum Offside directed by Marwa Zein about the travails of a Sudanese women’s football team trying to defy social and political odds to play their beloved game professionally.
The Sudanese Revolution of 2018-2019 was a historic moment which inspired young creatives with the sense of freedom and change it promised. Snoopy and In Deep Visions were no exception. He took part in shooting the film Sudan Remember Us directed by Hind Meddeb, which captured the joy and hope of the Sudanese people during their Revolution. A Journey to Kenya, a film documenting the trip undertaken by a Sudanese jiu-jitsu team to take part in a tournament in Kenya with minimal funds and having to overcome countless adversities en route in their clapped out mini-bus, was produced by In Deep Visions shortly after hopes of the Revolution’s success began to diminish.
Another monumental event for Sudan was the war that broke out in 2023 and which shattered the lives of millions with the extreme violence that was unleashed. As a result, Snoopy and many other young creatives were forced to leave Sudan, with many of them settling in neighbouring countries. Now residing in Kenya, Snoopy continues to work on a range of projects including co-directing the feature documentary Khartoum, a joint production by ‘Native Film Voices’ and the ‘Sudan Film Factory’. Shooting on this film began before the war following the lives of five individuals in Khartoum and the adversities they have to overcome. The film had not yet been finalised when fighting broke out and as a result, the team has had to tweak the storyline and creative cinematic effects were incorporated to finalise production.
Stories of resilience, according to Snoopy, are of becoming a success story and of accomplishing dreams or achieving goals. He believes that while everyone has dreams and goals in life, not everyone can achieve these, sometimes because they lack inspiration or knowledge of how to proceed. In order to achieve their goals, Snoopy claims they must have a plan and be inspired by someone from their own community, “I need the Michael Jordan of my own community so that I can believe in myself more”, he explains. Spoopy points out that while many inspiring Sudanese success stories can be found on sites like Facebook, most of the time these types of stories are not represented or documented. According to the young filmmaker, having the determination to achieve goals is not contingent on age, gender or any other classification, but emphasises the importance of how this goal is reached such as whether it is achieved with others or the pace at which it is realised. Sometimes “just surviving another day is also a form of resilience”, he points out.
In response to a question about whether he thinks there is a typically Sudanese form of resilience, snoopy explains that whilst determination to achieve a specific goal is a universal attribute, small details can be said to be uniquely Sudanese, giving the example of recent protests in Kenya and how they were organised compared to how youth in Sudan mobilised during the Revolution. One of the most recent productions by In Deep Visions is the music video We’ll Return Again which taps into the resilience of the Sudanese who have had to flee the war and their deep longing to return. Snoopy describes the music and lyrics of the song as emotional and uplifting, unlike the melancholy tunes of other Sudanese songs that have been produced during wartime. The song is one of hope, telling those Sudanese who have remained in the country that “we are coming back” and that “we want to send you this message to say that we haven’t forgotten about you.”
Perhaps the best way to appreciate Snoopy’s resilience is to see what he and his friends at In Deep Visions have achieved since they set out to make their own films ten years ago. Through sheer grit and determination, they have overcome all the set-backs and “dramas” that creatives face on a daily basis in Sudan and most importantly the brutal circumstances of repression and war. An accolade of local awards including at the Taharqa, Sudan Independent, Khartoum and European film festivals have made Snoopy a household name in Sudan. This trust placed in him by the public has in turn boosted the filmmaker’s confidence in himself. It is no surprise therefore to learn that Khartoum, the film Snoopy is co-directing, is scheduled for screening in early 2025 at the prestigious, and internationally renowned, Sundance film festival. Snoopy is extremely proud of this achievement and points out that it has not been a coincidence or luck but rather the result of very hard work, creativity and determination.
On the song:
Production: In Deep Vision films and performed by Moawia Ahmed Khalid, Mohamed Adam Abu, Beha Al-ameen, and Shamseldien Alhag came out on the 10th of October “The World Mental Health Day”. The song was Produced by Niile and written by Mahmoud Algaily.
you can listen to “Raj3een Tany” official song on Soundcloud
Sponsored by Tarco aviation , Cashi, 106.6 PRO FM
Poster design : Nihal Kamal
“What resilience means to me” - the journey of a young Sudanese filmmaker
Resilience, identity and cultural memory are some of the main themes that run through the work of young Sudanese filmmaker Ibrahim Ahmad, aka Brahim Snoopy. This is because they are traits which resonate with him personally and which he looks out for when he is choosing which stories to tell.
Snoopy’s connection to the Sudanese filmmaking industry began when he took on an acting role in a small production when he was still at university in Khartoum. This experience, in 2013, was a catalyst for Snoopy who sensed his own potential to become more involved in the industry and to even produce his own films. Together with a group of friends who shared his vision of striking out alone, they set up their own production company, which they called In Deep Visions. The company started small with short productions including a fiction film Marina and two short horror movies The Curse and The Curse ll. While working at the company, Snoopy continued to be involved with other filmmakers and their productions as an actor or cameraman. One example is his shooting of the film Khartoum Offside directed by Marwa Zein about the travails of a Sudanese women’s football team trying to defy social and political odds to play their beloved game professionally.
The Sudanese Revolution of 2018-2019 was a historic moment which inspired young creatives with the sense of freedom and change it promised. Snoopy and In Deep Visions were no exception. He took part in shooting the film Sudan Remember Us directed by Hind Meddeb, which captured the joy and hope of the Sudanese people during their Revolution. A Journey to Kenya, a film documenting the trip undertaken by a Sudanese jiu-jitsu team to take part in a tournament in Kenya with minimal funds and having to overcome countless adversities en route in their clapped out mini-bus, was produced by In Deep Visions shortly after hopes of the Revolution’s success began to diminish.
Another monumental event for Sudan was the war that broke out in 2023 and which shattered the lives of millions with the extreme violence that was unleashed. As a result, Snoopy and many other young creatives were forced to leave Sudan, with many of them settling in neighbouring countries. Now residing in Kenya, Snoopy continues to work on a range of projects including co-directing the feature documentary Khartoum, a joint production by ‘Native Film Voices’ and the ‘Sudan Film Factory’. Shooting on this film began before the war following the lives of five individuals in Khartoum and the adversities they have to overcome. The film had not yet been finalised when fighting broke out and as a result, the team has had to tweak the storyline and creative cinematic effects were incorporated to finalise production.
Stories of resilience, according to Snoopy, are of becoming a success story and of accomplishing dreams or achieving goals. He believes that while everyone has dreams and goals in life, not everyone can achieve these, sometimes because they lack inspiration or knowledge of how to proceed. In order to achieve their goals, Snoopy claims they must have a plan and be inspired by someone from their own community, “I need the Michael Jordan of my own community so that I can believe in myself more”, he explains. Spoopy points out that while many inspiring Sudanese success stories can be found on sites like Facebook, most of the time these types of stories are not represented or documented. According to the young filmmaker, having the determination to achieve goals is not contingent on age, gender or any other classification, but emphasises the importance of how this goal is reached such as whether it is achieved with others or the pace at which it is realised. Sometimes “just surviving another day is also a form of resilience”, he points out.
In response to a question about whether he thinks there is a typically Sudanese form of resilience, snoopy explains that whilst determination to achieve a specific goal is a universal attribute, small details can be said to be uniquely Sudanese, giving the example of recent protests in Kenya and how they were organised compared to how youth in Sudan mobilised during the Revolution. One of the most recent productions by In Deep Visions is the music video We’ll Return Again which taps into the resilience of the Sudanese who have had to flee the war and their deep longing to return. Snoopy describes the music and lyrics of the song as emotional and uplifting, unlike the melancholy tunes of other Sudanese songs that have been produced during wartime. The song is one of hope, telling those Sudanese who have remained in the country that “we are coming back” and that “we want to send you this message to say that we haven’t forgotten about you.”
Perhaps the best way to appreciate Snoopy’s resilience is to see what he and his friends at In Deep Visions have achieved since they set out to make their own films ten years ago. Through sheer grit and determination, they have overcome all the set-backs and “dramas” that creatives face on a daily basis in Sudan and most importantly the brutal circumstances of repression and war. An accolade of local awards including at the Taharqa, Sudan Independent, Khartoum and European film festivals have made Snoopy a household name in Sudan. This trust placed in him by the public has in turn boosted the filmmaker’s confidence in himself. It is no surprise therefore to learn that Khartoum, the film Snoopy is co-directing, is scheduled for screening in early 2025 at the prestigious, and internationally renowned, Sundance film festival. Snoopy is extremely proud of this achievement and points out that it has not been a coincidence or luck but rather the result of very hard work, creativity and determination.
On the song:
Production: In Deep Vision films and performed by Moawia Ahmed Khalid, Mohamed Adam Abu, Beha Al-ameen, and Shamseldien Alhag came out on the 10th of October “The World Mental Health Day”. The song was Produced by Niile and written by Mahmoud Algaily.
you can listen to “Raj3een Tany” official song on Soundcloud
Sponsored by Tarco aviation , Cashi, 106.6 PRO FM
Poster design : Nihal Kamal
Playtime Al-Sururab
Playtime Al-Sururab
In alleyways, town squares, on patios and under the shade of Neem trees, you’d hear children call out “where is Shelail? He was eaten by a lion. Where did he go? He was eaten by a crocodile.”
These are the chants we shouted out as children while searching for Shelail, an object like a bone or a stone, that had been hidden in some dark recess or thrown away into the distance. Shelail, and other traditional games, filled our childhood days and now, in adulthood, form an important part of our memories. Games in Sudan vary by region and cultural heritage but they share the common role of strengthening social bonds and developing children’s physical and mental skills.
We never really needed much to play with; socks stuffed into one another to form a ball; a water hose was a perfect skipping rope; a couple of bricks or pair of shoes marked goalposts; and scraps of fabric found around the home were enough to craft dolls like "banat um luab." Playing wasn’t just for children, either. Games like "Dafory," the name of street football in Sudan, brought everyone together, often culminating in neighbourhood tournaments.
These types of games gave us all the joy we needed in our childhood a long time before video games and children’s channels even existed. Streets and open spaces echoed with the sounds of children’s laughter, cheers, and sometimes quarrels and disputes over game rules.
Recently, these traditional games have regained popularity in Khartoum and other cities. The ongoing war accompanied by prolonged power cuts and frequent internet outages have forced families to flee their homes and children are resorting to these games as a form of safe haven. Many now find themselves in ancestral homes, shelters, schools, or refugee camps across Sudan and beyond. In these new settings, they play the same games their parents and grandparents once played, turning these activities into a source of comfort, a way to build friendships, and a means to foster resilience amidst the chaos of war.
Mazin Alrasheed’s Experience in Al-Sururab
Since the war began, Al-Sururab, a rural neighbourhood in northern Omdurman, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families. At Al-Sururab’s "takiyya," a community kitchen that also provides healthcare services for both displaced families and local residents, the photographer Mazin Alrasheed shared his experience of working with children at the centre and the games they play.
Mazin, who lives in Al-Sururab and is one of the core supporters of the community kitchen, observed that local children from the neighbourhood preferred playing street football, often spending the entire day outside. Meanwhile, displaced children leaned towards activities like building mud structures, crafting cardboard homes, drawing, and playing marbles, games that Mazin himself, and previous generations before that, had played albeit with some modern adaptations. For instance, in the game "Kambalat," the triangular stack of empty tomato puree tins, which children aimed to knock down, were replaced with plastic water bottles.
To foster creativity and a sense of camaraderie, Mazin organized joint activities for local and displaced children. He started with a competition to build a car out of pieces of discarded plastic which involved 18 children, followed by a cardboard house contest and mud sculpture events. These activities helped the children form friendships and develop skills, much to the delight of their parents, particularly the mothers who appreciated the constructive use of their children’s time. Some mothers even joined in with the games, further strengthening family bonds.
Inspired by the community’s enthusiasm, Mazin revived the old Sururab tradition of an annual village competition. This event, which had stopped years ago, involved multi-generational teams led by grandparents, competing in various games. Mazin modernized the event by including mothers, expanding participation beyond the traditional male constituents.
In yet another activity, Aunt Salwa, a 70-year-old resident, began crafting "banat um luab" dolls using leftover fabrics and old garments. She carefully twists and ties the fabric to create the dolls’ bodies, heads, arms, and legs, then selects cloth for their dresses and wraps. She adds beads or draws eyes on the faces and finishes the dolls off with black fabric for hair. Initially, Aunt Salwa made these dolls for girls in neighbouring homes but soon girls from both displaced and local families started coming to her for their own handmade dolls.
The Sururab experience highlights the importance of play for children during war and times of hardship. Children’s games give young people the chance to immerse themselves in play and enjoy their childhood and to build resilience through playing with others.
In alleyways, town squares, on patios and under the shade of Neem trees, you’d hear children call out “where is Shelail? He was eaten by a lion. Where did he go? He was eaten by a crocodile.”
These are the chants we shouted out as children while searching for Shelail, an object like a bone or a stone, that had been hidden in some dark recess or thrown away into the distance. Shelail, and other traditional games, filled our childhood days and now, in adulthood, form an important part of our memories. Games in Sudan vary by region and cultural heritage but they share the common role of strengthening social bonds and developing children’s physical and mental skills.
We never really needed much to play with; socks stuffed into one another to form a ball; a water hose was a perfect skipping rope; a couple of bricks or pair of shoes marked goalposts; and scraps of fabric found around the home were enough to craft dolls like "banat um luab." Playing wasn’t just for children, either. Games like "Dafory," the name of street football in Sudan, brought everyone together, often culminating in neighbourhood tournaments.
These types of games gave us all the joy we needed in our childhood a long time before video games and children’s channels even existed. Streets and open spaces echoed with the sounds of children’s laughter, cheers, and sometimes quarrels and disputes over game rules.
Recently, these traditional games have regained popularity in Khartoum and other cities. The ongoing war accompanied by prolonged power cuts and frequent internet outages have forced families to flee their homes and children are resorting to these games as a form of safe haven. Many now find themselves in ancestral homes, shelters, schools, or refugee camps across Sudan and beyond. In these new settings, they play the same games their parents and grandparents once played, turning these activities into a source of comfort, a way to build friendships, and a means to foster resilience amidst the chaos of war.
Mazin Alrasheed’s Experience in Al-Sururab
Since the war began, Al-Sururab, a rural neighbourhood in northern Omdurman, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families. At Al-Sururab’s "takiyya," a community kitchen that also provides healthcare services for both displaced families and local residents, the photographer Mazin Alrasheed shared his experience of working with children at the centre and the games they play.
Mazin, who lives in Al-Sururab and is one of the core supporters of the community kitchen, observed that local children from the neighbourhood preferred playing street football, often spending the entire day outside. Meanwhile, displaced children leaned towards activities like building mud structures, crafting cardboard homes, drawing, and playing marbles, games that Mazin himself, and previous generations before that, had played albeit with some modern adaptations. For instance, in the game "Kambalat," the triangular stack of empty tomato puree tins, which children aimed to knock down, were replaced with plastic water bottles.
To foster creativity and a sense of camaraderie, Mazin organized joint activities for local and displaced children. He started with a competition to build a car out of pieces of discarded plastic which involved 18 children, followed by a cardboard house contest and mud sculpture events. These activities helped the children form friendships and develop skills, much to the delight of their parents, particularly the mothers who appreciated the constructive use of their children’s time. Some mothers even joined in with the games, further strengthening family bonds.
Inspired by the community’s enthusiasm, Mazin revived the old Sururab tradition of an annual village competition. This event, which had stopped years ago, involved multi-generational teams led by grandparents, competing in various games. Mazin modernized the event by including mothers, expanding participation beyond the traditional male constituents.
In yet another activity, Aunt Salwa, a 70-year-old resident, began crafting "banat um luab" dolls using leftover fabrics and old garments. She carefully twists and ties the fabric to create the dolls’ bodies, heads, arms, and legs, then selects cloth for their dresses and wraps. She adds beads or draws eyes on the faces and finishes the dolls off with black fabric for hair. Initially, Aunt Salwa made these dolls for girls in neighbouring homes but soon girls from both displaced and local families started coming to her for their own handmade dolls.
The Sururab experience highlights the importance of play for children during war and times of hardship. Children’s games give young people the chance to immerse themselves in play and enjoy their childhood and to build resilience through playing with others.
In alleyways, town squares, on patios and under the shade of Neem trees, you’d hear children call out “where is Shelail? He was eaten by a lion. Where did he go? He was eaten by a crocodile.”
These are the chants we shouted out as children while searching for Shelail, an object like a bone or a stone, that had been hidden in some dark recess or thrown away into the distance. Shelail, and other traditional games, filled our childhood days and now, in adulthood, form an important part of our memories. Games in Sudan vary by region and cultural heritage but they share the common role of strengthening social bonds and developing children’s physical and mental skills.
We never really needed much to play with; socks stuffed into one another to form a ball; a water hose was a perfect skipping rope; a couple of bricks or pair of shoes marked goalposts; and scraps of fabric found around the home were enough to craft dolls like "banat um luab." Playing wasn’t just for children, either. Games like "Dafory," the name of street football in Sudan, brought everyone together, often culminating in neighbourhood tournaments.
These types of games gave us all the joy we needed in our childhood a long time before video games and children’s channels even existed. Streets and open spaces echoed with the sounds of children’s laughter, cheers, and sometimes quarrels and disputes over game rules.
Recently, these traditional games have regained popularity in Khartoum and other cities. The ongoing war accompanied by prolonged power cuts and frequent internet outages have forced families to flee their homes and children are resorting to these games as a form of safe haven. Many now find themselves in ancestral homes, shelters, schools, or refugee camps across Sudan and beyond. In these new settings, they play the same games their parents and grandparents once played, turning these activities into a source of comfort, a way to build friendships, and a means to foster resilience amidst the chaos of war.
Mazin Alrasheed’s Experience in Al-Sururab
Since the war began, Al-Sururab, a rural neighbourhood in northern Omdurman, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families. At Al-Sururab’s "takiyya," a community kitchen that also provides healthcare services for both displaced families and local residents, the photographer Mazin Alrasheed shared his experience of working with children at the centre and the games they play.
Mazin, who lives in Al-Sururab and is one of the core supporters of the community kitchen, observed that local children from the neighbourhood preferred playing street football, often spending the entire day outside. Meanwhile, displaced children leaned towards activities like building mud structures, crafting cardboard homes, drawing, and playing marbles, games that Mazin himself, and previous generations before that, had played albeit with some modern adaptations. For instance, in the game "Kambalat," the triangular stack of empty tomato puree tins, which children aimed to knock down, were replaced with plastic water bottles.
To foster creativity and a sense of camaraderie, Mazin organized joint activities for local and displaced children. He started with a competition to build a car out of pieces of discarded plastic which involved 18 children, followed by a cardboard house contest and mud sculpture events. These activities helped the children form friendships and develop skills, much to the delight of their parents, particularly the mothers who appreciated the constructive use of their children’s time. Some mothers even joined in with the games, further strengthening family bonds.
Inspired by the community’s enthusiasm, Mazin revived the old Sururab tradition of an annual village competition. This event, which had stopped years ago, involved multi-generational teams led by grandparents, competing in various games. Mazin modernized the event by including mothers, expanding participation beyond the traditional male constituents.
In yet another activity, Aunt Salwa, a 70-year-old resident, began crafting "banat um luab" dolls using leftover fabrics and old garments. She carefully twists and ties the fabric to create the dolls’ bodies, heads, arms, and legs, then selects cloth for their dresses and wraps. She adds beads or draws eyes on the faces and finishes the dolls off with black fabric for hair. Initially, Aunt Salwa made these dolls for girls in neighbouring homes but soon girls from both displaced and local families started coming to her for their own handmade dolls.
The Sururab experience highlights the importance of play for children during war and times of hardship. Children’s games give young people the chance to immerse themselves in play and enjoy their childhood and to build resilience through playing with others.
Jabanah Coffee pot
Jabanah Coffee pot
Ceramic coffee pot, made to share sweet, spiced coffee to be enjoyed with friends and
family members.
Af1948,06.32
Found/Acquired: Omdurman
Acquisition date: 1948
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Ceramic coffee pot, made to share sweet, spiced coffee to be enjoyed with friends and
family members.
Af1948,06.32
Found/Acquired: Omdurman
Acquisition date: 1948
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Ceramic coffee pot, made to share sweet, spiced coffee to be enjoyed with friends and
family members.
Af1948,06.32
Found/Acquired: Omdurman
Acquisition date: 1948
© The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
Great Mosque
Great Mosque
During the reign of Al Imam Al Mahdi, the mosque was an open space. After his death in 1885, his followers built a surrounding mud wall to accommodate 20,000 worshippers. In 1889, they rebuilt the wall with burnt bricks and whitewashed it with white lime. They added eight openings in the wall, including a large wooden door facing Al Khalifa Abdullah's house.
The mosque had a mihrab on the eastern side, for Al Khalifa to head the daily prayers, except for Friday, and on the western side of the mosque there was a wing dedicated to women for prayer, religious education, Qur’an sessions, and reading the Ratib of Al Imam Al Mahdi. Prayer in the Great Mosque was compulsory.
The worshipers following Al Khalifa Abdullah had a specific arrangement, and, in his absence, scholars without political leanings acted on his behalf.
After the Battle of Karrari, Lord Kitchener used the area of the Great Mosque as a parade ground and an arena for the army to march. During the 1970s, the northern, eastern, and western sides of the wall were demolished to make a public park, but the project failed.
It is now one of the largest spaces in Omdurman. Religious events such as Eid prayers, the Prophet's birthday celebrations, and national celebrations are held there.
The inhabitants of Omdurman adorned their city during the religious seasons with its most festive decorations. Banners were raised, troops were paraded through the streets, drums were beaten, and Al Khalifa joined the celebrations.
Before the Great mosque get known for the celebration space for the Prophet’s (Peace Be Upon Him) birthday, Al Mawlid Al Nabawi, The Ansar would celebrate Eid Al Rajabiyah (held on the 27th of Rajab every year), Eid Al Fitr, and Eid Al Adha. On the Eid Al Adha, the city received many visitors, either to celebrate or to obey Al Khalifa Abdullah's request.
The governing Amil and the Amirs of the provinces would be summoned to the capital to renew their loyalty to him, as well as to discuss problems and find solutions. During the Eid celebrations, AlKhalifa rallied tribes whose loyalty he doubted and made them pledge their loyalty.
During the reign of Al Imam Al Mahdi, the mosque was an open space. After his death in 1885, his followers built a surrounding mud wall to accommodate 20,000 worshippers. In 1889, they rebuilt the wall with burnt bricks and whitewashed it with white lime. They added eight openings in the wall, including a large wooden door facing Al Khalifa Abdullah's house.
The mosque had a mihrab on the eastern side, for Al Khalifa to head the daily prayers, except for Friday, and on the western side of the mosque there was a wing dedicated to women for prayer, religious education, Qur’an sessions, and reading the Ratib of Al Imam Al Mahdi. Prayer in the Great Mosque was compulsory.
The worshipers following Al Khalifa Abdullah had a specific arrangement, and, in his absence, scholars without political leanings acted on his behalf.
After the Battle of Karrari, Lord Kitchener used the area of the Great Mosque as a parade ground and an arena for the army to march. During the 1970s, the northern, eastern, and western sides of the wall were demolished to make a public park, but the project failed.
It is now one of the largest spaces in Omdurman. Religious events such as Eid prayers, the Prophet's birthday celebrations, and national celebrations are held there.
The inhabitants of Omdurman adorned their city during the religious seasons with its most festive decorations. Banners were raised, troops were paraded through the streets, drums were beaten, and Al Khalifa joined the celebrations.
Before the Great mosque get known for the celebration space for the Prophet’s (Peace Be Upon Him) birthday, Al Mawlid Al Nabawi, The Ansar would celebrate Eid Al Rajabiyah (held on the 27th of Rajab every year), Eid Al Fitr, and Eid Al Adha. On the Eid Al Adha, the city received many visitors, either to celebrate or to obey Al Khalifa Abdullah's request.
The governing Amil and the Amirs of the provinces would be summoned to the capital to renew their loyalty to him, as well as to discuss problems and find solutions. During the Eid celebrations, AlKhalifa rallied tribes whose loyalty he doubted and made them pledge their loyalty.
During the reign of Al Imam Al Mahdi, the mosque was an open space. After his death in 1885, his followers built a surrounding mud wall to accommodate 20,000 worshippers. In 1889, they rebuilt the wall with burnt bricks and whitewashed it with white lime. They added eight openings in the wall, including a large wooden door facing Al Khalifa Abdullah's house.
The mosque had a mihrab on the eastern side, for Al Khalifa to head the daily prayers, except for Friday, and on the western side of the mosque there was a wing dedicated to women for prayer, religious education, Qur’an sessions, and reading the Ratib of Al Imam Al Mahdi. Prayer in the Great Mosque was compulsory.
The worshipers following Al Khalifa Abdullah had a specific arrangement, and, in his absence, scholars without political leanings acted on his behalf.
After the Battle of Karrari, Lord Kitchener used the area of the Great Mosque as a parade ground and an arena for the army to march. During the 1970s, the northern, eastern, and western sides of the wall were demolished to make a public park, but the project failed.
It is now one of the largest spaces in Omdurman. Religious events such as Eid prayers, the Prophet's birthday celebrations, and national celebrations are held there.
The inhabitants of Omdurman adorned their city during the religious seasons with its most festive decorations. Banners were raised, troops were paraded through the streets, drums were beaten, and Al Khalifa joined the celebrations.
Before the Great mosque get known for the celebration space for the Prophet’s (Peace Be Upon Him) birthday, Al Mawlid Al Nabawi, The Ansar would celebrate Eid Al Rajabiyah (held on the 27th of Rajab every year), Eid Al Fitr, and Eid Al Adha. On the Eid Al Adha, the city received many visitors, either to celebrate or to obey Al Khalifa Abdullah's request.
The governing Amil and the Amirs of the provinces would be summoned to the capital to renew their loyalty to him, as well as to discuss problems and find solutions. During the Eid celebrations, AlKhalifa rallied tribes whose loyalty he doubted and made them pledge their loyalty.
Sound of Khartoum
Sound of Khartoum
This episode gives an overview of the alternative music scene in Khartoum within the past 60 years by discussing the diverse influences leading to the emergence and development of Jazz, Zannig, and Rap musical genres in the city. We review the intersections of some of these genres with social class and politics in Khartoum and how they’ve become cultural products that were minimally represented and were not allowed to be fully legitimized by official media channels and institutions, thus they’ve historically been marginalized.
Interviewed in this episode are some of Sudan’s pioneer artists in Jazz and Zannig and through their stories, we discuss the cultural ‘otherization’ and social stigma imposed by the dominant elites against these genres. Despite these circumstances, we explore the process through which Jazz, Zannig, and Rap have become a part of the mainstream music scene in Sudan by utilizing alternative platforms such as the internet and social media.
Through this podcast, we invite Sudan’s youth to participate in the documentation and support of alternative music by any means possible.
The production team for this episode are:
Researchers and Producers: Leena Shibeika, Almuzn MohamedElhassan, Mai Abusalih, and Alrassa.
Script Writers: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Presenters: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Music: Zain Records.
Audio Mixing: Tariq Suliman.
Project Manager: Zainab Gaafar.
Technical assistance: elMastaba TV.
Recording studio: Rift Digital Lab.
This episode gives an overview of the alternative music scene in Khartoum within the past 60 years by discussing the diverse influences leading to the emergence and development of Jazz, Zannig, and Rap musical genres in the city. We review the intersections of some of these genres with social class and politics in Khartoum and how they’ve become cultural products that were minimally represented and were not allowed to be fully legitimized by official media channels and institutions, thus they’ve historically been marginalized.
Interviewed in this episode are some of Sudan’s pioneer artists in Jazz and Zannig and through their stories, we discuss the cultural ‘otherization’ and social stigma imposed by the dominant elites against these genres. Despite these circumstances, we explore the process through which Jazz, Zannig, and Rap have become a part of the mainstream music scene in Sudan by utilizing alternative platforms such as the internet and social media.
Through this podcast, we invite Sudan’s youth to participate in the documentation and support of alternative music by any means possible.
The production team for this episode are:
Researchers and Producers: Leena Shibeika, Almuzn MohamedElhassan, Mai Abusalih, and Alrassa.
Script Writers: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Presenters: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Music: Zain Records.
Audio Mixing: Tariq Suliman.
Project Manager: Zainab Gaafar.
Technical assistance: elMastaba TV.
Recording studio: Rift Digital Lab.
This episode gives an overview of the alternative music scene in Khartoum within the past 60 years by discussing the diverse influences leading to the emergence and development of Jazz, Zannig, and Rap musical genres in the city. We review the intersections of some of these genres with social class and politics in Khartoum and how they’ve become cultural products that were minimally represented and were not allowed to be fully legitimized by official media channels and institutions, thus they’ve historically been marginalized.
Interviewed in this episode are some of Sudan’s pioneer artists in Jazz and Zannig and through their stories, we discuss the cultural ‘otherization’ and social stigma imposed by the dominant elites against these genres. Despite these circumstances, we explore the process through which Jazz, Zannig, and Rap have become a part of the mainstream music scene in Sudan by utilizing alternative platforms such as the internet and social media.
Through this podcast, we invite Sudan’s youth to participate in the documentation and support of alternative music by any means possible.
The production team for this episode are:
Researchers and Producers: Leena Shibeika, Almuzn MohamedElhassan, Mai Abusalih, and Alrassa.
Script Writers: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Presenters: Almuzn Mohamedelhassan and Mohammed Abdelazaaiz.
Music: Zain Records.
Audio Mixing: Tariq Suliman.
Project Manager: Zainab Gaafar.
Technical assistance: elMastaba TV.
Recording studio: Rift Digital Lab.