Before the war, Khartoum’s transport stands were perpetually crowded with vehicles and passengers but still failed to meet rush-hour demand, particularly in the evenings, when fares climbed as terminals swelled.
All routes from Omdurman and Bahri into Khartoum ended at Jackson, Sharwani or Al-Estad at the Al-Souq al Arabi stations, easing commuters’ movement across the city.
April’s war transformed that scene.
In the first days, activity at transport stands, on roads and in markets, dropped sharply. When the conflict peaked, movement in central Khartoum ceased altogether and continued only in outlying districts, where drivers resorted to internal side roads to avoid clashes and Rapid Support Forces (RSF) checkpoints.
With Khartoum largely emptied of its residents, except for a few, public transport halted. That still persisted until the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) announced it had regained full control of the capital. Nonetheless, some neighbourhoods remain nearly deserted, so vehicles avoid them because of too few passengers.
Of the city’s three main terminals, Jackson remains the only one operating for all lines arriving and departing across Khartoum as well as for Omdurman and Bahri, while Al-Estad is slowly resuming service and Sharwani has stayed inactive since the fighting began.
From Shaglaban station to Al-Kalakla neighbourhood
The trip that used to take three hours before the war, owing to congested streets and dense traffic, now takes roughly forty minutes.
Earlier this month, this correspondent boarded a bus at the Shaglaban station bound for Omdurman Al-Shuhada station, the intermediary hub that links northern Omdurman’s transport lines with Al-Souq al Arabi and central and southern Khartoum.
She took a bus to the Al-Shuhada district in Omdurman for a fare of 1,000 Sudanese pounds as there were no direct routes to Al-Souq al Arabi.
Before the war, services connected far northern Omdurman with Al-Souq al Arabi. Those lines stopped during the fighting, forcing commuters now to use multiple modes of transport to reach their destinations.
Along the route, Thawrat Street appeared busy with pedestrians and vehicles, and cafés had resumed business, a scene that hardly suggested the area had seen war, if not for the visible scars of shelling on several building façades, the Atar reporter noted as she traveled from Shaglaban to Al-Shuhada.
From Al-Shuhada station, she continued on a “Starex” minibus for 2,000 pounds across the White Nile Bridge (Al-Silah al-Tibbi) into central Khartoum, passing the University of Al-Neelain area.
When we reached Jackson terminal, I noticed an ample number of vehicles across the various routes serving Al-Sahafa, Al-Kalakla, Jabal Awliya, Omdurman Thawrat and Libya Market neighborhoods.
Yet activity inside the terminal was muted, the usual prewar crush was absent. Vehicles waited long stretches for additional passengers before moving because many residents have not yet returned to Khartoum.
From Al-Souq al Arabi, the bus crossed the Freedom Bridge en route to the Al-Kalakla loop market, passing the strategically sited Alrowad Residential Complex at the junction of Forest and Freedom streets opposite Al-Remaiyla Cemetery, a complex that now appears nearly empty.
During the journey, we noticed streets were wide and largely deserted, with extensive signs of the destruction the war left behind, contrasted by only small numbers of citizens. The trip that used to take three hours before the war, owing to congested streets and dense traffic, now takes roughly forty minutes.
Upon reaching Al-Kalakla, the sense of life was more pronounced: pedestrian and vehicle movement increased, and the transport congestion there seemed greater than in central Khartoum.
Along the route, we observed a handful of small shops open, most newly established, many bearing names referencing April’s events such as Dignity Bazaar, I am Sudan and Martyrs’ Shops, signals of attempts to revive daily life amid the ruins.
On the return trip from Khartoum to Omdurman, we saw scenes of relative congestion among public and private vehicles, an indicator of a partial restoration of daily activity and institutions returning to the city.
How do people get around in Khartoum?
On the round trips between Omdurman and Khartoum, we interviewed public-transport drivers and passengers, recording their descriptions of movement across the city.
Talal, a minibus driver, worked the early months of the war on the route linking Omdurman’s Al-Shuhada area with Al-Souq al Arabi and central Khartoum. He watched crossings between the two cities become progressively blocked as the army and the RSF set up checkpoints on the bridges, making passage nearly impossible.
About six months in, as the situation deteriorated and RSF extended control over large swaths of the city, especially its centre, traffic in central Khartoum ground to a halt, while transport continued only on the outskirts of the capital’s three cities.
Talal told Atar that he and several fellow drivers kept working despite the danger and repeated searches at both sides’ checkpoints. Eventually, however, he stopped operating inside Khartoum and relocated to Omdurman.
During that period, vehicles avoided central routes and took long, interior detours, running from the far south of Khartoum to northern Omdurman via Al-Fetihab Bridge, which forced commuters to use multiple modes of transport to reach their destinations. He also said some neighbourhoods were completely besieged during the war and residents could not leave. So many stayed put and relied on limited private or commercial rides amid an almost total collapse of public transit.
“That phase saw a heavy deployment of army and police checkpoints, which slowed transport because vehicles and passengers were frequently searched,” Talal described the shifts after SAF regained control of Khartoum state. He said most of those checkpoints were later removed, with only selected security points maintained under police control.
Talal said public transport is plentiful now and operating acceptably, but, in the absence of formal chambers of commerce, fares are set arbitrarily.
“A ticket costs about 3,000 Sudanese pounds for the trip from Omdurman to Al-Souq al Arabi, and roughly 2,000 pounds from Al-Souq al Arabi to the Central Market. From southern Khartoum to Omdurman, fares range between 5,000 and 12,000 pounds. The fare from Al-Kalakla neighbourhood to Al-Souq al Arabi has fallen from 6,000 pounds at the start of Khartoum’s recovery to about 3,000 today. As for fuel, a gallon of petrol reached 17,986 pounds and that of gasoline 17,388 pounds,” he elaborated.
Another driver told Atar that checkpoints have increased sharply and that it is now common to be issued three to four transit receipts a day, whereas only one was typical before.
The driver added that trucks attract the most scrutiny and that drivers sometimes pay informal sums of between 3,000 and 5,000 pounds to avoid being issued receipts exceeding 10,000. He said one receipt reached 18,000 pounds even though the driver’s documents were in order, confirming that such practices are more widespread now.
A single unit’s revenue rarely exceeds 26,000 pounds, while oil expenses can reach 100,000 pounds a day, not to mention fuel and spare parts.
Badri Mohammed, public transport driver
Badri Mohammed, another driver, also recounted his experience operating after life returned to the streets, describing major difficulties caused by dealings with the traffic police.
He said he was forced to abandon his vehicle and rely on money transfers from his family to cover expenses after licensing costs climbed to about 700,000 pounds, with ongoing renewal fees.
Although his paperwork was in order, Badri faced additional, unreasonable demands to be allowed to use window curtains to shield passengers from the heat, a practice traffic authorities now ban.
Badri added that constant inspections had made it routine to receive as many as five transit receipts on a single trip, sometimes totaling 20,000 Sudanese pounds, far above what his daily income covers.
“At one point, when I tried to transport goods, I was issued a transit receipt for 80,000 pounds and my vehicle was held at the South Khartoum police station. How am I supposed to pay that? A single unit’s revenue rarely exceeds 26,000 pounds, while oil expenses can reach 100,000 pounds a day, not to mention fuel and spare parts. Yet we are not allowed to pass checkpoints easily, which slows movement and cuts the number of runs per day.”
Badri said he tried operating longer-distance routes outside the state, but conditions remained harsh. Services between Khartoum and Wad Madani cannot generate sufficient profit because the heavy concentration of checkpoints along the road siphons off a large share of revenue. He concluded that he would have abandoned transport work entirely if not for financial necessity and passengers who rely on the service.
Routes and terminals have changed, fares are negotiated on the spot, and drivers stop anywhere to avoid traffic authorities.
Mohammed, regular public transport user in Khartoum
During our trip, we also spoke to Mohammed, a regular user of public transport in the city, who described clear changes to routes and terminal locations compared with the prewar period. Some vehicles now take alternate roads, some terminals have expanded into new areas, while others have shrunk or ceased operating altogether, a shift that has confused commuters and obscured established routes.
Mohammed pointed to a marked disparity in fares inside Khartoum compared with Omdurman, saying prices in Khartoum are often negotiated on the spot.
He gave an example. Boarding transport to Al-Kalakla from Al-Souq al Arabi, he was asked for a 2,000-pound fare though he had only 1,500. After bargaining, he was allowed to ride. He says services continue with passengers and vehicles moving in various directions, albeit with fewer people than before. Drivers frequently stop in undesignated spots to avoid traffic authorities, he said, making boarding and alighting haphazard in some neighbourhoods.
Mohammed said Al-Souq al Arabi remains among the busiest hubs for routes to Omdurman and southern Khartoum at almost any hour, and that vehicle numbers at stands inside the capital now exceed passenger demand, a reversal of the prewar pattern.
He added that, despite this apparent supply, a clear mobility gap persists across Khartoum. Ride-hailing platforms, including Tirhal, Mishwar and Go, have been slow to resume full operations in the state, depriving residents of a crucial option for long trips across the bridges. In the apps’ absence, commuters rely increasingly on short-range motorized rickshaws that are not permitted to cross some major arteries such as Airport Street, although some rickshaw drivers attempt the crossing when traffic police are absent.
Tirhal announced in January that it had resumed service in Khartoum, but Atar found that it has not yet returned at scale because too few vehicles are available.
We have not seen any Tirhal cars in Omdurman, though this reporter travels regularly along An-Nus, Al-Wadi and As-Shingiti streets. Their cars are still absent. Sometimes, commuters use small vehicles they already know and ask the owners for rides directly.
Despite the availability of intercity tourist coaches, yellow taxis have shifted away from inner-city runs to operate longer trips between Khartoum and nearby cities such as Wad Madani and Al Qadarif, and towns in the White Nile State and Northern State. That shift has thinned their presence at customary stands and worsened the daily mobility crunch for residents of the capital.
As Atar found out on that trip, public transport has returned only partially, concentrated at certain hubs such as Jackson terminal, while other terminals, like Sharwani remain silent, and another, like Khartoum Stadium terminal, began to reopen only last week.
Drivers complain that traffic authorities’ procedures, a surge in checkpoints, the proliferation of transit receipts and pressures to make extra payments constrain their ability to run routes regularly and make movement around the city harder.
Fares continue to vary unpredictably in the absence of formal chambers of commerce, undermining efforts to organize services and plan journeys.
Still, signs suggest the city is slowly reclaiming elements of daily life: more vehicles circulate and some stands have resumed activity.
