They Told the World What Happened in El‑Fasher — Then They Were Killed

Eyewitnesses Who Brought El‑Fasher's Story to the World

"Sixteen killed." "Seven killed." "Thirty‑one killed." "People are eating cowhide to survive." "The bombs are getting closer." "They're shooting people trying to run away."

These were some of the grim updates relayed to AFP's veteran Sudan correspondent Abdelmoneim Abu Idris Ali by residents trapped in El‑Fasher during an 18‑month siege. The city was overrun by the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) two weeks before reporting for this story.

Ordinary people, vital reporting

With most communications cut and international reporters unable to operate freely, it was ordinary civilians — local doctors, an activist and a community elder — who enabled AFP and other news organisations to piece together the reality on the ground. Among them were Dr Omar Selik, Dr Adam Ibrahim Ismail, Sheikh Moussa and activist Mohamed Issa. All four provided repeated, on‑the‑ground updates and have since been killed.

How they reported — and how they died

Dr Adam Ibrahim Ismail, a young physician, was detained by RSF fighters on October 26 while attempting to flee El‑Fasher and was shot the following day. Until his final hours he was treating "the wounded and the sick" at Saudi Hospital, then the city's last functioning medical facility, the Sudanese Doctors' Union said. Abu Idris Ali had spoken with Ismail days earlier and described his voice as "weary," adding that Ismail often said goodbye as if it might be their last call.

In September, Abu Idris Ali lost three other local contacts who had answered his calls whenever communications allowed. They were among those killed in a drone strike on a mosque in El‑Fasher on September 16, an attack that killed at least 75 people.

"Their voices painted a picture of El‑Fasher," Abu Idris Ali said. "Through them, I heard the groans of the wounded, the sorrow of the bereaved, the pain of those crushed under the war machine."

Lives of service and resilience

Dr Omar Selik was a compassionate medic who watched the city's health system collapse: hospitals were shelled, supplies ran out, and staff were killed or forced to flee. Despite the dangers, Selik stayed to treat patients and sent his family to safety. "He always tried to hide the tinge of sadness in his voice when he gave me toll figures," Abu Idris Ali recalled.

Activist Mohamed Issa, 28, had been delivering food, water and medicine across frontlines to families trapped in camps, including the famine‑hit Abu Shouk displacement camp. He fled after the camp was overrun by the RSF and was later killed. His determination and buoyant voice — "nothing bad inshallah, I'm a little far away but I'll go find out for you!" — are remembered by the correspondent.

Sheikh Moussa, uprooted from his South Darfur village more than two decades earlier by Janjaweed violence, spent his life in displacement camps yet retained a steady, generous spirit. Abu Idris Ali described him sitting cross‑legged outside his hut in a white jalabiya and prayer cap, smiling despite the horrors around him. He too was killed before he could return to his village.

A human loss for journalism and communities

These local sources played an essential and often anonymous role in documenting Sudan's war that began in April 2023. Their voices became central to reporting from a city otherwise cut off. For journalists who had met them in person or known them over years of work in Darfur, their deaths are not only another statistic but a personal loss.

"Every death is a tragedy," Abu Idris Ali said. "Yet it is another kind of grief when it is someone you have broken bread with, someone whose voice you heard every day."

Note: The account above summarizes reporting by AFP and statements from the Sudanese Doctors' Union. Dates and casualty figures reflect information available at the time of reporting.