Sudan's invisible children - born in war with no legal identity

Warning: This communicative contains details immoderate whitethorn find distressing A 17‑year‑old Sudanese girl cradles an infant in her arms, her calm demeanor masking the anxiety she feels about the child’s future. “This lad of excavation has nary father, nary commencement certificate and nary nationalist number,” Amira, whose sanction has been changed to support her identity, tells the BBC. She gazes down at the boy, speaking slowly as if still trying to piece together what has transpired since civil war erupted in Sudan. Amira and her family formerly resided in the eastern districts of el‑Fasher, a city that came under siege by the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF). The RSF has been locked in a brutal power struggle with the Sudanese armed forces since April 2023. El‑Fasher had served as the army’s last stronghold in western Darfur until it fell to the RSF and allied Arab militias after 18 months past October. For the tens of thousands of civilians trapped inside the city, the situation devolved into a nightmare marked by incessant bombardment, clashes, and severe food shortages. In early 2025, Amira and her relatives resolved to flee, hoping to locate a safer haven. While slipping out on a south‑west road outside the city, she says she was seized by three armed RSF members. “They blindfolded maine and took maine to the Tabit country southbound of el-Fasher. I was locked successful a country for 2 months, and each time 1 of them raped maine successful turn,” she recounts in a debased voice. After weeks of captivity, Amira learned she was pregnant and fell seriously ill. She says that when her captors decided to discard her, they left her near the area where she had been seized. With the aid of other civilians escaping el‑Fasher, she was transported to a location where she could obtain medical assistance. Months later, at a humanitarian hub not under RSF control, she delivered her baby at a hospital operated by the International Medical Corps. There she received support from the Sudanese aid organization Nada Al‑Azhar Foundation for Disaster Prevention and Sustainable Development (Nada). Nada also helped trace her family, who had reached a camp where hundreds of thousands of el‑Fasher residents have sought refuge. Reuniting with her relatives brought considerable relief, yet the family continues to confront obstacles. Eight months after giving birth, Amira remains unable to register her son’s birth. “Even getting a commencement notification from the infirmary requires accusation that doesn't exist,” says Amira, explaining that she cannot supply any details about the child’s father. Without this documentation she cannot obtain any official identification for the infant. “I can't get him vaccinated, oregon enrol him successful nursery oregon school,” she says. “I'm acrophobic for his aboriginal due to the fact that helium isn't registered astatine all. My economical concern is precise difficult, and I can't spend his attraction oregon care. I can't adjacent spell to enactment for fearfulness of being exposed to unit again.” According to Nada, Amira’s experience is not isolated but reflects a broader pattern affecting civilians in conflict‑ridden regions across Sudan.