Resilience and Coexistence

The exhibition of educator and artist Sitana Badri on household items, showcased at the Khalifa House Community Museum after its reopening at the beginning of 2023, is a living model of the idea of “a home as a museum”.

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The exhibition was displayed in the kitchen of Mrs Daisy Bramble at the Bramble Household, one of the residences of British administrators of Omdurman in the 1920’s during British rule.

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Sitana Badri, a pioneer of Sudanese visual arts, was born in the city of Rabak in southeastern Sudan in 1929 and was the daughter of one of the pioneers of girl’s education, Sheikh Babikir Badri. She was awarded a diploma of Fine Arts from the faculty of Fine Arts in Khartoum and studied Fine Arts in the United States. She worked as an English teacher and then as an art teacher at Omdurman Secondary School, and later as a lecturer at Ahfad University for Women in the field of arts and textile printing.

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Sitana Badri’s artistic journey, and the diversity of teaching methods and various uses of available local materials, were sybolic of her creative life, dedicated to reflect the beauty and richness of Sudanese Culture, especially the creativity of women who regularly use art in their everyday life.

‍

During her long life, Sittana exhibited her artwork at five exhibitions in the United States, the United Kingdom and Egypt, and four exhibitions in Khartoum. Some of her artwork can be found at Manchester University in the UK and at many other public and private locations.

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The Household Exhibition is a collection of kitchenware including various pots and crockery from different historical periods. The designs and patterns displayed on the various pieces evoke memories for those who lived in the early to mid-twentieth century. On the back of each piece you will find the name of its owner before she donated it to Sitana’s collection, thus documenting a period of her life, and the lives of many other Sudanese, who shared the experience of acquiring these items and using them at many events to bring people together around the same table.

‍

This Household Exhibition is considered a unique experience in the concept and process of “museum showcasing”, from the selection of the theme, to the method of collection and presentation, which all focus on collective memory. The choice of kitchenware, which Sitana chose to collect and display, is an important facet of Sudanese daily life which extends the concept of heritage to dimensions that are not usually evident in institutional museum spaces.

Cover Picture and gallery pictures © Zainab Gaafar

The exhibition of educator and artist Sitana Badri on household items, showcased at the Khalifa House Community Museum after its reopening at the beginning of 2023, is a living model of the idea of “a home as a museum”.

‍

The exhibition was displayed in the kitchen of Mrs Daisy Bramble at the Bramble Household, one of the residences of British administrators of Omdurman in the 1920’s during British rule.

‍

Sitana Badri, a pioneer of Sudanese visual arts, was born in the city of Rabak in southeastern Sudan in 1929 and was the daughter of one of the pioneers of girl’s education, Sheikh Babikir Badri. She was awarded a diploma of Fine Arts from the faculty of Fine Arts in Khartoum and studied Fine Arts in the United States. She worked as an English teacher and then as an art teacher at Omdurman Secondary School, and later as a lecturer at Ahfad University for Women in the field of arts and textile printing.

‍

Sitana Badri’s artistic journey, and the diversity of teaching methods and various uses of available local materials, were sybolic of her creative life, dedicated to reflect the beauty and richness of Sudanese Culture, especially the creativity of women who regularly use art in their everyday life.

‍

During her long life, Sittana exhibited her artwork at five exhibitions in the United States, the United Kingdom and Egypt, and four exhibitions in Khartoum. Some of her artwork can be found at Manchester University in the UK and at many other public and private locations.

‍

The Household Exhibition is a collection of kitchenware including various pots and crockery from different historical periods. The designs and patterns displayed on the various pieces evoke memories for those who lived in the early to mid-twentieth century. On the back of each piece you will find the name of its owner before she donated it to Sitana’s collection, thus documenting a period of her life, and the lives of many other Sudanese, who shared the experience of acquiring these items and using them at many events to bring people together around the same table.

‍

This Household Exhibition is considered a unique experience in the concept and process of “museum showcasing”, from the selection of the theme, to the method of collection and presentation, which all focus on collective memory. The choice of kitchenware, which Sitana chose to collect and display, is an important facet of Sudanese daily life which extends the concept of heritage to dimensions that are not usually evident in institutional museum spaces.

Cover Picture and gallery pictures © Zainab Gaafar

Wad Rahom village is located approximately 2 kilometres south of Rufaa city in the central Gezira State. It is one of the villages that possess a big collection of artifacts and remains dating back to the Mahdist state in the late nineteenth century. What distinguishes the village of Wad Rahom is its fame for producing handmade textiles with a reputation for the superior quality of its cotton products such as the firad, a traditional handmade length of material used as a garment or as a cover at night. Ganja is another form of woven cotton and is mostly worn as a traditional wrap by men. Men’s scarves, shalat, and the jalabiyyat damour gowns are some other examples of woven items.

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The weaving loom itself consists of several parts known as the idda which includes the heddle, daffa, reeds, tawriq, beater, dagag and the pedals naalat. The hardan, an essential part of the weaving operation, is kept remotely from the loom, hence its name, which means to sulk in the local language. Other complementary tools include the comb, shuttle, and lam.

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Wad Rahom’s collection of hand looms, which fathers and grandfathers relied on for their livelihoods during the Mahadist period, have been passed down through generations. However, over time the looms were abandoned and remained unused for decades, until the charitable organization  El-Tadafuq decided to open a branch office in eastern Gezira, and selected Wad Rahum village as its headquarters. The organisation set about rehabilitating the old looms and as a result, the weaving industry was revived and production continues to serve as a source of income for the villagers. El-Tadafuq’s first branch in Wad Rahom, aims to serve as a resource for traditional handicrafts and a place where challenges faced by loom owners and other artisans in the village can be address including metalworkers, carpenters, upholsterers, and leathersmiths.

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In addition to the weaving looms, the village has a collection of artifacts dating back to the Mahdist period, such as swords, spears, and grindstones used for milling corn, as well as clay pots and other artifacts.

‍

The above text was part of a temporary exhibition by El-Tadafoq charitable organization at the Khalifa House Community Museum in 2021.

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Cover picture © Griselda El Tayib collection

Wad Rahom village is located approximately 2 kilometres south of Rufaa city in the central Gezira State. It is one of the villages that possess a big collection of artifacts and remains dating back to the Mahdist state in the late nineteenth century. What distinguishes the village of Wad Rahom is its fame for producing handmade textiles with a reputation for the superior quality of its cotton products such as the firad, a traditional handmade length of material used as a garment or as a cover at night. Ganja is another form of woven cotton and is mostly worn as a traditional wrap by men. Men’s scarves, shalat, and the jalabiyyat damour gowns are some other examples of woven items.

‍

The weaving loom itself consists of several parts known as the idda which includes the heddle, daffa, reeds, tawriq, beater, dagag and the pedals naalat. The hardan, an essential part of the weaving operation, is kept remotely from the loom, hence its name, which means to sulk in the local language. Other complementary tools include the comb, shuttle, and lam.

‍

Wad Rahom’s collection of hand looms, which fathers and grandfathers relied on for their livelihoods during the Mahadist period, have been passed down through generations. However, over time the looms were abandoned and remained unused for decades, until the charitable organization  El-Tadafuq decided to open a branch office in eastern Gezira, and selected Wad Rahum village as its headquarters. The organisation set about rehabilitating the old looms and as a result, the weaving industry was revived and production continues to serve as a source of income for the villagers. El-Tadafuq’s first branch in Wad Rahom, aims to serve as a resource for traditional handicrafts and a place where challenges faced by loom owners and other artisans in the village can be address including metalworkers, carpenters, upholsterers, and leathersmiths.

‍

In addition to the weaving looms, the village has a collection of artifacts dating back to the Mahdist period, such as swords, spears, and grindstones used for milling corn, as well as clay pots and other artifacts.

‍

The above text was part of a temporary exhibition by El-Tadafoq charitable organization at the Khalifa House Community Museum in 2021.

‍

Cover picture © Griselda El Tayib collection

The Sudanese woman’s tob is by far the most essential garment worn by local women, and as it is the most visible of them it is the subject of most comment and interest. Despite its unchanging simplicity, female ingenuity has produced many variations over the last half century. The word tob, or thawb, in Arabic is the generic term for clothing but, in the case of Sudanese women, it means an outer, seamless garment, 4 to 4.5 metres in length by 2 metres in width, of bright or pastel colour, initially of cotton material.

For every woman, the tob is a statement of social status: it distinguishes the married woman from the unmarried, different qualities of tob indicate wealth and sophistication, and finally, amongst the diaspora of Sudanese, the Sudanese woman wears her tob with pride as a visible sign of national identity. It is also the most enduring and lasting item of Sudanese women’s national costume. The rahat has gone and the gurgab too, but the tob has survived because of its overall usefulness, its beauty and its adaptability. For a rural woman, her tob can be her overcoat, her mosquito net, the pouch for gathering cotton or other crops, her nightdress, or the curtain behind which she can breast-feed her baby in public places.

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(Excerpt taken from the chapter ‘The Sudanese Tob’ the book ‘Regional Folk Costumes of the Sudan’ by Griselda El Tayib)

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Cover picture © Ahmed Elfatih, Features of a nomadic girl (Badouin), Central Darfur, 08/13/2022

The Sudanese woman’s tob is by far the most essential garment worn by local women, and as it is the most visible of them it is the subject of most comment and interest. Despite its unchanging simplicity, female ingenuity has produced many variations over the last half century. The word tob, or thawb, in Arabic is the generic term for clothing but, in the case of Sudanese women, it means an outer, seamless garment, 4 to 4.5 metres in length by 2 metres in width, of bright or pastel colour, initially of cotton material.

For every woman, the tob is a statement of social status: it distinguishes the married woman from the unmarried, different qualities of tob indicate wealth and sophistication, and finally, amongst the diaspora of Sudanese, the Sudanese woman wears her tob with pride as a visible sign of national identity. It is also the most enduring and lasting item of Sudanese women’s national costume. The rahat has gone and the gurgab too, but the tob has survived because of its overall usefulness, its beauty and its adaptability. For a rural woman, her tob can be her overcoat, her mosquito net, the pouch for gathering cotton or other crops, her nightdress, or the curtain behind which she can breast-feed her baby in public places.

‍

(Excerpt taken from the chapter ‘The Sudanese Tob’ the book ‘Regional Folk Costumes of the Sudan’ by Griselda El Tayib)

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Cover picture © Ahmed Elfatih, Features of a nomadic girl (Badouin), Central Darfur, 08/13/2022

In this episode, we discuss the impact of the ongoing war in Sudan on the archiving of intangible cultural heritage in its official or organized forms, such as museums and libraries, as well as traditional forms, and people’s livelihoods. Through the episode, we will learn about the methods of transferring and preserving intangible cultural practices between different generations in peace and war situations, and how the displacement of communities from their usual or original places affects this transfer process.

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Episode guests:

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Sandius Kodi: Writer, and lecturer at the University of Khartoum
Asia Mahmoud: Social Studies researcher
Amna Elidrissy: An architect, researcher interested in intangible heritage and a private archive curator.
Muhammad Adam Abu: Musician, and co-founder of the Naqara project.
Fatima Mohamed AlHassan: Founder of the Women's museum in Darfur "Interview recording".

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Production Team:

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Presented by: Azza Muhammad and Roaa Ismail
Research and production of Roaa Ismail, with the participation of Zainab Gaafar and Amna Elidrissy
Mixed by Roaa Ismail
Music: Al Zein Studio
Managed by: Zainab Gaafar

‍

In this episode, we discuss the impact of the ongoing war in Sudan on the archiving of intangible cultural heritage in its official or organized forms, such as museums and libraries, as well as traditional forms, and people’s livelihoods. Through the episode, we will learn about the methods of transferring and preserving intangible cultural practices between different generations in peace and war situations, and how the displacement of communities from their usual or original places affects this transfer process.

‍

Episode guests:

‍
Sandius Kodi: Writer, and lecturer at the University of Khartoum
Asia Mahmoud: Social Studies researcher
Amna Elidrissy: An architect, researcher interested in intangible heritage and a private archive curator.
Muhammad Adam Abu: Musician, and co-founder of the Naqara project.
Fatima Mohamed AlHassan: Founder of the Women's museum in Darfur "Interview recording".

‍

Production Team:

‍
Presented by: Azza Muhammad and Roaa Ismail
Research and production of Roaa Ismail, with the participation of Zainab Gaafar and Amna Elidrissy
Mixed by Roaa Ismail
Music: Al Zein Studio
Managed by: Zainab Gaafar

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How One Sudanese Island Continues to Defy the Odds of Survival

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A knowledge of many

In the age of Artificial Intelligence, the term machine learning defines the process whereby  computers are fed large amounts of data and then algorithms prompt the computers to recognize certain patterns thus allowing our devices to come up with useful answers to our questions. Where these large data sets are sourced is of course now part of a conversation about ethics - where does the data come from and have people consented to giving it? The concept of crowdsourcing or collective knowledge, when many individuals contribute information, is not a new one, in fact it has been cited as far back as the 1700s and Plato’s concept of a group mind. One example of collective knowledge occurred In 1857 when a group of British intellectuals decided to compile a new English dictionary with a comprehensive set of words, definitions, and usages. They put out a call for volunteers to submit words from books in their libraries and eventually received more than 2 million word references. Even in today’s corporate world, companies try to think of ways to promote collective knowledge compilation and knowledge exchange between co-workers to try to retain it as capital within the company.

‍

However, the concept of group mind Plato is describing in fact predates the 1700s. It is one of society’s key characteristics and a group of people living in a specific settlement over a long period of time will undoubtedly start forming a type of collective knowledge, which is the sum of knowledge, practices, skills, understanding, interactions and beliefs that are shared, developed, preserved, and passed down within a community over generations. It can also be referred to as ‘the knowledge of a group’ when a large group of people contribute their knowledge and skills, the collective knowledge of the group can be greater than the sum of its individual members' understanding. The contribution aspect is important to mention, as even though the group shares a lot of understanding, there is also an individual level of expertise that is important for the functioning of the group as a collective.

‍

But how does a specific society share knowledge between its members to the extent that even at a young age, a child may hold a wealth of knowledge about his or her community? Researchers continue to study traditional or indigenous knowledge through an anthropological lens. Some methods for transmitting this type of knowledge include storytelling, an important means of teaching and learning for many communities, and one that is based on oral transmission and a reliance on human memory. These stories can revolve around local history, wisdom, skills, and an understanding of the land. Songs, dances, craft making, rituals, and performances are another method known as ‘shadow learning’ which essentially entails youth observing their elders and mimicking their actions.

‍

All of the above cultural systems are a culmination of social dynamics and knowledge that are used to serve a group’s goals of survival and prosperity. It is deeply rooted in the cultural, social, and environmental context of the group and often reflects their unique way of understanding and interacting with the world. The knowledge is collectively held rather than being owned by any one individual, and it evolves as the community adapts to changes in its environment and way of life.

‍

A river is a friend not a foe

Tuti Island’s community is a prime example of how societies retain knowledge and use it, over decades, to survive adversities such as major floods.

On the confluence of the Blue and White Niles in the heart of Khartoum sits one of the largest islands located on the River Nile measuring approximately four square kilometers. Tuti has been inhabited since the 15th century but the British archaeologist Arkell believes that it was occupied even earlier because of the presence on the island of objects dating back to the Stone Age. The island is home to several ethnic groups from all over Sudan and abroad. These groups have brought their own unique cultures and traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation.

‍

‍

Yet despite its location at the heart of the capital city, Tuti remained in its rural condition and was only recently included in the expanding urbanisation projects being undertaken around Khartoum. Its informal morphology and rural forms of livelihood were for many years in distinct contrast with downtown Khartoum, metres away, on the opposite bank of the river. However, new infrastructure sped up the process of urbanisation. The newly constructed Tuti Bridge offers the first, and only, direct road connection between the island and the rest of the city, a journey previously undertaken via barges and ferries. The bridge has inevitably had a big effect on the island’s residents offering them greater access to services and work opportunities and increasing the diversity of the island’s population. So far little is known about the effect the bridge has had on Tuti’s environment and social fabric or what role indigenous knowledge practices played in dealing with the new situation.

‍

For the island’s inhabitants, The Nile is the very source of life with their livelihoods being primarily based on agriculture and fishing. The fertile soil on the island is utilized for the cultivation of a variety of vegetables and fruit and fishing creates a major source of income for many residents who rely on the river for their daily catch.

‍

However, when the flooding season arrives, the Nile can also be the source of destruction. Khartoum’ first recorded major flood was in 1878 when the Blue Nile overflowed its banks, damaging homes and livelihoods. In 1946 another major flood in Khartoum resulted in extensive damage to buildings and infrastructure with floodwaters reaching six meters in height in some areas leaving thousands homeless. The 1988 floods in Khartoum were notorious and occurred following an extensive downpour over several days resulting in over 1,000 casualties and thousands of people being displaced. More recently, heavy rains in 2020 resulted in flooding in which nearly 1 million people were affected and in Khartoum alone, over 100 people were killed, with thousands displaced and resulting damages estimated to be worth USD 4.4 billion. Interestingly, even though Tuti was also flooded that year, no casualties were reported and only two houses were destroyed.

‍

It is necessary to understand that flooding is not a natural disaster, it is man-made. The Nile has been flooding for thousands of years, while humans have only begun inhabiting these lands relatively recently. For plants to grow and animals to survive, a river needs to expand and ‘breathe’, the ecosystem in which we live relies on this, and it is therefore necessary for the river to flood. However, this ancient agreement of coexistence, based on the temporality of occupation and use of land by humans, is gradually being eroded and the demarcation line between people and river has, over time, become blurred. These recent inhabitants do not understand the river, all they know is the tame water flowing obediently through its channel and the chatting and laughter of friends sitting alongside it or for rituals they perform in it like dipping their newborns in the water for blessing. But a river will always come to claim its land! This is what the people of Tuti Island know and why they understand that you cannot fight flooding but instead you must learn how to live with it.

A story of agility

The way the residents of Tuti Island have adapted methods to counter flooding is quite remarkable. Their flood mitigation system is called Al-Taya meaning the place of gathering or the shelter. The famous flood of 1946 helped shape the Island’s flood mitigation culture with the story going back to 1944 when the British Governor at the time ordered the islanders to evict Tuti and annexed the land to be part of the property of the Gordon Memorial College. The islanders refused, and the order sparked conflict and distrust between the residents and colonizers. Subsequently, when flooding occurred in 1946, colonial authorities refused to provide the residents with tools or support to protect their homes and lands. As a result, the islanders mobilised among themselves to protect their island from the rising waters using their own bodies as a barricade for flood defence. The community solidarity that developed as a result of this act was the basis for what evolved into the Taya system as we know it today. This heightened sense of independence and connection to the island and its people is essentially how the system has developed together with the Sudanese tradition of collective action during times of crises. Even today, popular songs such as ajaboni alaila jo, or ‘how I admire those who came [to help]’, continue to mark this important event in 1946.

Part of the Taya system includes a network of different lookout points located around the island, managed by groups of people from various neighbourhoods and maintained by the womenfolk, to observe the river’s activity. They are linked by an alert mechanism which uses drums and the loudspeakers in mosques and everyone in the community, whether child or older person, man or woman knows how to barricade rising river waters if they have to. The Taya is managed by a head person assigned at the beginning of the flood season and the lookout position is rotated between a group of 7 people. The Taya system is upgraded annually with lookout locations changing regularly depending on changes in urban growth and flooding patterns. One key change has been the introduction of the flood mitigation committee for Tuti Island. The committee was established in 1988 and since then it became a recognised body by the government that manages all phases of flood management as well as all types of funding and assistance. The knowledge of the people of Tuti has not gone unrecognized and they were awarded champions of disaster risk reduction by the UN’s disaster risk reduction body, UNISDR.

‍

What the future holds

The impact of future flooding is likely to be different because of several factors including climate projections which suggest that the intensity of precipitation is expected to increase in the future. Moreover, the ongoing war which erupted in mid-April 2023, and the direct siege the Islanders have had to endure since, has greatly affected the islanders response capacity. The war has also resulted in the displacement of a large number of the island’s residents which has a direct impact over the ability of islanders to protect themselves against floods. The collective knowledge with regards to flood defence, and the number of available responders, were the community’s most valuable assets. Thus, the current conflict puts practices based on traditional knowledge at great risk with potentially irreversible consequences. However, perhaps when the time comes, the lessons of resilience of the Tuti Islanders in the face of natural disasters, that are aggravated by man-made actions, is a story that will continue to be remembered and played out again.

‍

Cover picture: Tuti Island 2017 © Zainab Gaafar

How One Sudanese Island Continues to Defy the Odds of Survival

‍

A knowledge of many

In the age of Artificial Intelligence, the term machine learning defines the process whereby  computers are fed large amounts of data and then algorithms prompt the computers to recognize certain patterns thus allowing our devices to come up with useful answers to our questions. Where these large data sets are sourced is of course now part of a conversation about ethics - where does the data come from and have people consented to giving it? The concept of crowdsourcing or collective knowledge, when many individuals contribute information, is not a new one, in fact it has been cited as far back as the 1700s and Plato’s concept of a group mind. One example of collective knowledge occurred In 1857 when a group of British intellectuals decided to compile a new English dictionary with a comprehensive set of words, definitions, and usages. They put out a call for volunteers to submit words from books in their libraries and eventually received more than 2 million word references. Even in today’s corporate world, companies try to think of ways to promote collective knowledge compilation and knowledge exchange between co-workers to try to retain it as capital within the company.

‍

However, the concept of group mind Plato is describing in fact predates the 1700s. It is one of society’s key characteristics and a group of people living in a specific settlement over a long period of time will undoubtedly start forming a type of collective knowledge, which is the sum of knowledge, practices, skills, understanding, interactions and beliefs that are shared, developed, preserved, and passed down within a community over generations. It can also be referred to as ‘the knowledge of a group’ when a large group of people contribute their knowledge and skills, the collective knowledge of the group can be greater than the sum of its individual members' understanding. The contribution aspect is important to mention, as even though the group shares a lot of understanding, there is also an individual level of expertise that is important for the functioning of the group as a collective.

‍

But how does a specific society share knowledge between its members to the extent that even at a young age, a child may hold a wealth of knowledge about his or her community? Researchers continue to study traditional or indigenous knowledge through an anthropological lens. Some methods for transmitting this type of knowledge include storytelling, an important means of teaching and learning for many communities, and one that is based on oral transmission and a reliance on human memory. These stories can revolve around local history, wisdom, skills, and an understanding of the land. Songs, dances, craft making, rituals, and performances are another method known as ‘shadow learning’ which essentially entails youth observing their elders and mimicking their actions.

‍

All of the above cultural systems are a culmination of social dynamics and knowledge that are used to serve a group’s goals of survival and prosperity. It is deeply rooted in the cultural, social, and environmental context of the group and often reflects their unique way of understanding and interacting with the world. The knowledge is collectively held rather than being owned by any one individual, and it evolves as the community adapts to changes in its environment and way of life.

‍

A river is a friend not a foe

Tuti Island’s community is a prime example of how societies retain knowledge and use it, over decades, to survive adversities such as major floods.

On the confluence of the Blue and White Niles in the heart of Khartoum sits one of the largest islands located on the River Nile measuring approximately four square kilometers. Tuti has been inhabited since the 15th century but the British archaeologist Arkell believes that it was occupied even earlier because of the presence on the island of objects dating back to the Stone Age. The island is home to several ethnic groups from all over Sudan and abroad. These groups have brought their own unique cultures and traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation.

‍

‍

Yet despite its location at the heart of the capital city, Tuti remained in its rural condition and was only recently included in the expanding urbanisation projects being undertaken around Khartoum. Its informal morphology and rural forms of livelihood were for many years in distinct contrast with downtown Khartoum, metres away, on the opposite bank of the river. However, new infrastructure sped up the process of urbanisation. The newly constructed Tuti Bridge offers the first, and only, direct road connection between the island and the rest of the city, a journey previously undertaken via barges and ferries. The bridge has inevitably had a big effect on the island’s residents offering them greater access to services and work opportunities and increasing the diversity of the island’s population. So far little is known about the effect the bridge has had on Tuti’s environment and social fabric or what role indigenous knowledge practices played in dealing with the new situation.

‍

For the island’s inhabitants, The Nile is the very source of life with their livelihoods being primarily based on agriculture and fishing. The fertile soil on the island is utilized for the cultivation of a variety of vegetables and fruit and fishing creates a major source of income for many residents who rely on the river for their daily catch.

‍

However, when the flooding season arrives, the Nile can also be the source of destruction. Khartoum’ first recorded major flood was in 1878 when the Blue Nile overflowed its banks, damaging homes and livelihoods. In 1946 another major flood in Khartoum resulted in extensive damage to buildings and infrastructure with floodwaters reaching six meters in height in some areas leaving thousands homeless. The 1988 floods in Khartoum were notorious and occurred following an extensive downpour over several days resulting in over 1,000 casualties and thousands of people being displaced. More recently, heavy rains in 2020 resulted in flooding in which nearly 1 million people were affected and in Khartoum alone, over 100 people were killed, with thousands displaced and resulting damages estimated to be worth USD 4.4 billion. Interestingly, even though Tuti was also flooded that year, no casualties were reported and only two houses were destroyed.

‍

It is necessary to understand that flooding is not a natural disaster, it is man-made. The Nile has been flooding for thousands of years, while humans have only begun inhabiting these lands relatively recently. For plants to grow and animals to survive, a river needs to expand and ‘breathe’, the ecosystem in which we live relies on this, and it is therefore necessary for the river to flood. However, this ancient agreement of coexistence, based on the temporality of occupation and use of land by humans, is gradually being eroded and the demarcation line between people and river has, over time, become blurred. These recent inhabitants do not understand the river, all they know is the tame water flowing obediently through its channel and the chatting and laughter of friends sitting alongside it or for rituals they perform in it like dipping their newborns in the water for blessing. But a river will always come to claim its land! This is what the people of Tuti Island know and why they understand that you cannot fight flooding but instead you must learn how to live with it.

A story of agility

The way the residents of Tuti Island have adapted methods to counter flooding is quite remarkable. Their flood mitigation system is called Al-Taya meaning the place of gathering or the shelter. The famous flood of 1946 helped shape the Island’s flood mitigation culture with the story going back to 1944 when the British Governor at the time ordered the islanders to evict Tuti and annexed the land to be part of the property of the Gordon Memorial College. The islanders refused, and the order sparked conflict and distrust between the residents and colonizers. Subsequently, when flooding occurred in 1946, colonial authorities refused to provide the residents with tools or support to protect their homes and lands. As a result, the islanders mobilised among themselves to protect their island from the rising waters using their own bodies as a barricade for flood defence. The community solidarity that developed as a result of this act was the basis for what evolved into the Taya system as we know it today. This heightened sense of independence and connection to the island and its people is essentially how the system has developed together with the Sudanese tradition of collective action during times of crises. Even today, popular songs such as ajaboni alaila jo, or ‘how I admire those who came [to help]’, continue to mark this important event in 1946.

Part of the Taya system includes a network of different lookout points located around the island, managed by groups of people from various neighbourhoods and maintained by the womenfolk, to observe the river’s activity. They are linked by an alert mechanism which uses drums and the loudspeakers in mosques and everyone in the community, whether child or older person, man or woman knows how to barricade rising river waters if they have to. The Taya is managed by a head person assigned at the beginning of the flood season and the lookout position is rotated between a group of 7 people. The Taya system is upgraded annually with lookout locations changing regularly depending on changes in urban growth and flooding patterns. One key change has been the introduction of the flood mitigation committee for Tuti Island. The committee was established in 1988 and since then it became a recognised body by the government that manages all phases of flood management as well as all types of funding and assistance. The knowledge of the people of Tuti has not gone unrecognized and they were awarded champions of disaster risk reduction by the UN’s disaster risk reduction body, UNISDR.

‍

What the future holds

The impact of future flooding is likely to be different because of several factors including climate projections which suggest that the intensity of precipitation is expected to increase in the future. Moreover, the ongoing war which erupted in mid-April 2023, and the direct siege the Islanders have had to endure since, has greatly affected the islanders response capacity. The war has also resulted in the displacement of a large number of the island’s residents which has a direct impact over the ability of islanders to protect themselves against floods. The collective knowledge with regards to flood defence, and the number of available responders, were the community’s most valuable assets. Thus, the current conflict puts practices based on traditional knowledge at great risk with potentially irreversible consequences. However, perhaps when the time comes, the lessons of resilience of the Tuti Islanders in the face of natural disasters, that are aggravated by man-made actions, is a story that will continue to be remembered and played out again.

‍

Cover picture: Tuti Island 2017 © Zainab Gaafar