Hassan Koko sits on a homemade wooden bed, overlooking the hills of the Nuba Mountains in South Kordofan, Sudan. The 50-year-old community health worker looks uneasy. On November 29, after finishing a training course and drinking sweet tea, a drone appeared and struck his group. When it returned, it hit those already wounded. Koko survived but carries a sharp metal fragment in his left knee. “My family was happy I survived. They thought I would die,” he says. “But life is not the same anymore. Sometimes, I walk down to the nearby market, but mostly, I’m just stuck at home.”
For decades the Nuba Mountains have endured attacks from Sudan’s Armed Forces (SAF). The current conflict intensified in 2011 after the area was excluded from the political settlement that led to South Sudan’s independence, deepening grievances among the Nuba — a loose label for more than 50 ethnic groups living across a territory the size of Austria. The Sudan People’s Liberation Movement-North (SPLM-N) emerged that year to represent the Nuba demand for self-rule.
A significant shift came in February 2025 when the SPLM-N, under growing pressure, allied with the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF). The move was widely seen as precarious and controversial. The wider Sudan war, which began in 2023, has produced what many call the world’s worst humanitarian crisis, with estimates of over 150,000 deaths and some 14 million people forcibly displaced.
Jalale Getachew Birru, a senior analyst at the Armed Conflict Location & Event Data (ACLED) project, describes the alliance as pragmatic: both the RSF and SPLM-N share an interest in pushing back against the SAF and advocate for a federal future for Sudan. Still, the partnership’s durability is uncertain; when the SAF broke the siege of Kadugli earlier this year, the allies blamed each other for the loss, suggesting strain beneath the surface.
RSF soldiers are visible in the Nuba’s urban centres — roaming, chatting in cafes and selling looted items. Their presence, along with the influx of displaced people, has transformed markets, hospitals and other public spaces into potential targets. Reports indicate RSF training camps have been established within SPLM-N-controlled territory, though details of the military agreement remain murky.
The Nuba Mountains are also overwhelmed by civilians fleeing the wider war. At SPLM-N headquarters in Kauda, Jalal Abdulkarim, who coordinates humanitarian support, handed over a slip of paper with “2,885,393” written on it — the number of refugees received in SPLM-N areas since the war began. Funding for refugee programs relies heavily on NGOs and UN agencies, but aid has shrunk. Abdulkarim says donations that once reached $1–2 million now come in at $200,000–$500,000, a gap that leaves food, water, shelter and sanitation in short supply.
The International Organization for Migration (IOM) estimates Kordofan hosts “more than a million” internally displaced persons, but figures are uncertain: the UN presence in South Kordofan’s capital, Kadugli, has largely gone, and many international NGOs have suspended or reduced operations.
Deeper into the range, the Umm Dulo Reception Camp is a barren expanse of makeshift shelters made from sticks and plastic beneath acacia trees. Zone 12 at the camp’s edge houses the newest arrivals among more than 34,000 people. Fatma Eisa Kuku, 76, fled Kadugli and mimics the nights she left: “I couldn’t sleep. Every night was rat-tat-tat-tat,” she says, imitating gunfire. She cannot forget three men abducted at dawn; she still does not know who took them.
Tensions run high. The RSF does not blend easily with local communities; their distinct presence has added a new layer to long-held anxieties. Hospitals and markets, now frequented by RSF members and where training or troops may be stationed, have become more vulnerable. While some see common political aims between RSF and SPLM-N, daily realities in the Nuba leave residents cautious and uneasy about hosting fighters and displaced populations alike.
At the Mother of Mercy Hospital — the largest medical facility in SPLM-N-controlled areas — wounded RSF soldiers lie in the shade outside tents, recovering from battlefield injuries. Despite international accusations of widespread atrocities linked to the RSF, some fighters frame their actions differently. “We are fighting because the government [in Sudan] is not doing enough. There are not enough hospitals, infrastructure and schools,” says Hassan Hamid, an injured RSF soldier recuperating at the hospital. He says he wants to stay in the Nuba Mountains: “I want to live in the Nuba Mountains forever.”
The Nuba Mountains remain a fragile refuge: a place offering temporary shelter to many while hosting armed actors whose presence both protects and endangers communities. As fighting and displacement continue across Sudan, the strain on local resources, the volatility of alliances, and the shrinking humanitarian support leave the region’s future uncertain.
Edited by: Benita van Eyssen