Until recently, Mohamed al-Mahi Jabr al-Dar cultivated no fewer than 1,000 feddans with a variety of crops in the rain-fed agricultural schemes of Habila, South Kordofan State.
His operations were sustained by bank financing from institutions that actively supported farmers across the state, as well as by Sudanese investors who entered into partnerships with large-scale farm owners. That model, however, began to unravel after the outbreak of the April 15 war, which fundamentally transformed life in Habila locality.
Ali Hussein al-Wakil, who owns an agricultural project in Habila but has long resided in Khartoum, told a similar story from a different perspective. Although he never farmed the land himself, he leased it to local farmers who partnered with financiers, relying on the rental income as his primary source of livelihood.
“With that income, I bought a house in Khartoum, paid my children’s school fees, and covered my family’s living expenses,” he told Atar. “Now I’ve lost all of that. No one is able to farm, and the people back home no longer have the means to cultivate their own land, let alone rent additional acreage. The investors who once drove up the value of agricultural land have left the region.”
Despite what Jabr al-Dar describes as a marked improvement in security conditions, he is now able to cultivate only five feddans of sorghum and an equivalent area of groundnuts, millet, and sesame. Just enough to meet his family’s basic needs. His former business partners have abandoned agriculture altogether.
“In the past, if financing was delayed, I would sell part of the previous season’s harvest to finance the next one,” he said. “But last year we couldn’t plant at all because of the security situation. Conditions have improved now, but we no longer have the resources to finance cultivation the way we used to. Even so, we won’t abandon farming. We will keep planting until things get better.”
The “Charpoy Bank”
The rains have started, but we simply don’t have the money to prepare our land.
Jibril Markazo Kurtkila, farmer, Habila, South Kordofan
With banks no longer operating, formal agricultural finance all but absent, and national investors having withdrawn from the area, farmers have turned to new, and often risky, alternatives. One such mechanism is locally known as the “Charpoy Bank.”
The name derives from the small woven beds (anagareeb, or charpoys) on which money lenders sit outside local shops. Farmers approach them carrying documents proving ownership of agricultural land and a lawyer formalises the loan agreement, which typically includes mortgaging the land as collateral should the borrower default.
According to Jabr al-Dar, the terms are fixed: money borrowed doubles in value over four months, the approximate period between planting and harvest, while repayment in kind requires two sacks of grain for every sack borrowed.
Many farmers, however, are reluctant to resort to such arrangements for fear of losing their land, particularly amid continuing security instability and increasingly unpredictable climatic conditions.
Since November last year, the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) have regained control of Habila from the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). The locality is renowned for its vast mechanized farming schemes operated under the Nuba Mountains Agricultural Corporation.
Farmers had hoped that this season would mark their return to cultivation after two consecutive years during which insecurity and the collapse of financing prevented planting. Yet many, like Jabr al-Dar, told Atar that agriculture is no longer what it once was.
Jibril Markazo Kurtkila, another farmer from Habila, says no financing has reached farmers so far this season, despite the onset of the rains.
“The rains have started, but we simply don’t have the money to prepare our land,” he told Atar.
Before the war, Kurtkila cultivated 250 feddans through partnerships with private financiers. Those investors have since abandoned agriculture in the area because of the conflict. Like many others, he says he will be unable to cultivate even one-tenth of his former acreage this year.
Before the war, Habila cultivated more than one million feddans under mechanized farming, in addition to around 100,000 feddans farmed by local residents in small plots around their homes. This is according to a Habila locality official who spoke to Atar on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to speak to the media.
The official estimated that preparations for this year’s agricultural season have so far reached no more than 20 per cent of normal levels.
In Abu Karshola, also in South Kordofan, organizations that previously supplied farmers with seeds through the Ministry of Agriculture and Animal Resources have suspended their activities since the war began. At the same time, the Agricultural Bank has ceased operating in the area, local farmers told Atar.
As a result, farmers face enormous difficulties in preparing their land. The cost of cultivating a single feddan has climbed to more than 400,000 Sudanese pounds, while the price of a barrel of diesel has risen from 2.2 million pounds in April to 3.5 million pounds, with further increases expected as planting expands.
Large-scale farmers increasingly depend on modern machinery, while smallholders have little choice but to rely on traditional hand tools to cultivate small plots on the outskirts of villages.
With the Agricultural Bank no longer providing seasonal financing, agricultural machinery on credit, or purchasing farmers’ harvests at the end of the season, many have been forced to borrow from market traders under harsh and exploitative conditions.
“We have no choice but to rely on nafeer.” farmer Zeinab Hamdan from Abu Karshola, told Atar.
Nafeer, a longstanding Sudanese tradition of collective voluntary labour, has become, she said, the only viable means of preparing farmland.
“There is no alternative for me except farming. I will plant cowpeas, okra, groundnuts, and sorghum. I will sell whatever exceeds my family’s needs and store the rest as food for the year.”
Zeinab says preparations for this season remain weak, while rainfall has yet to reach its usual levels. Nevertheless, she and fellow farmers remain hopeful that conditions will improve, the rains will return to normal, and this year’s harvest will surpass last season’s poor yields, which were severely affected by drought.
The Nuba Mountains
If they stop farming, they face death by both hunger and the gun at the same time.
Abdel-Azim Ali Yagoub, Secretary of Agriculture, SPLM-N Civil Authority of New Sudan
Agricultural conditions are no better in areas of the Nuba Mountains controlled by the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement-North (SPLM-N/Al-Hilu).
Abdel-Azim Ali Yagoub, Secretary of Agriculture in the movement’s self-declared Civil Authority of New Sudan, acknowledged as much in an interview with Atar, saying that this year’s agricultural season faces numerous obstacles.
Although farming, alongside livestock herding, remains the principal livelihood and the foundation of local social life, farmers are confronting risks that Yagoub describes as structural and beyond the control of the local administration. Chief among them are increasingly erratic rainfall and seasonal flooding caused by climate change over recent years.
He also pointed to internal constraints, most notably the absence of any regional budget to support farmers.
“Without resources, our role is limited to providing agricultural guidance and extension services,” he said. “We simply have nothing else to offer them.”
Yagoub lamented the absence of institutions capable of financing or supporting farmers, noting that most now rely almost entirely on their own limited resources to cultivate only small portions of their land.
He added that international organizations have also halted even the modest assistance they once provided, including seeds and maintenance of water pumps, attributing the suspension to the United States’ economic policies.
Combined with ongoing insecurity, he said, these developments have further undermined farmers’ livelihoods.
Yagoub also acknowledged the deteriorating security situation across the region, citing tribal conflicts, the wider repercussions of the April 15 war, and continuing aerial bombardments that have targeted farmers even while working in their fields.
Together, he argued, these factors have reduced the area under cultivation and heightened concerns over food security.
Even so, he insists that farmers will continue planting under any circumstances.
“If they stop farming,” he said, “they face death by both hunger and the gun at the same time.”
Still, he expects cultivation this year to be confined largely to very small family plots, with large-scale farming remaining impossible because of inadequate support, soaring production costs, and persistent insecurity.
In Dallami, South Kordofan, farmer Nurein Abdel-Basit told Atar that this year’s rainy season has begun more favourably than last year’s. Yet, he said, preparations for cultivation remain equally poor because of acute fuel shortages across the state, particularly diesel, an indispensable input for mechanized agriculture.
According to Abdel-Basit, the price of a barrel of diesel in the area has risen to more than five million Sudanese pounds, compared with around two million pounds a year ago.
With major roads still closed, he and other farmers are unable to sell last season’s harvest. Prices have collapsed so sharply that using those crops to finance this year’s planting has become virtually impossible. Before the war, seasonal financing was available through banks and agricultural cooperatives, support that has now disappeared entirely.
Holding On to the Land and Cultivation
People are cultivating whatever they can. They are holding on to their land despite extraordinarily difficult circumstances.
Suleiman Abu Humaida, spokesperson, Dar Hamar and Al-Nuhud Emergency Rooms
In West Kordofan State, now under the control of the Ta’sis Alliance forces, farmers in Al-Mujlad, Babanusa, Al-Fula, and An-Nuhud described to Atar the severe hardships they continue to endure under the RSF control of their areas.
Al-Fula farmer Al-Sari Balla said many farmers have abandoned cultivation because of the soaring costs of land preparation and agricultural inputs.
“People here have not even reached the stage of thinking about farming,” he said. “They are still trying to figure out how to survive from one day to the next.”
According to Balla, only small plots surrounding villages are currently being cultivated, as they are relatively accessible. Larger farms farther from population centres have effectively become unreachable.
“Going there,” he said, “is like walking to your own death.”
Suleiman Abu Humaida, the spokesperson for the Dar Hamar and An-Nuhud Emergency Rooms, told Atar that soaring fuel prices, deteriorating security, and the complete absence of support for farmers have made this year’s agricultural season appear doomed before it has even begun.
He explained that many farmers have reverted to animal-powered ploughing. Although this reduces cultivation costs, it also lowers productivity and is unsuitable for large-scale farming.
“They have turned to it because they have no alternative,” he said. “Fuel for agricultural machinery is simply unavailable.”
The shortage has become so acute, he added, that some farmers have begun processing cooking oil to use as fuel for irrigation pumps and agricultural engines, a makeshift solution that often destroys the machinery.
Yet Abu Humaida sees these improvised adaptations as evidence of farmers’ enduring attachment to both the land and agriculture, which, alongside livestock herding, remains the foundation of life in the region.
“People are cultivating whatever they can,” he said. “They are holding on to their land despite extraordinarily difficult circumstances.”
With financial and in-kind support for farmers almost entirely absent, Abu Humaida said older forms of agricultural finance have re-emerged after disappearing during the era of banks and microfinance companies whose operations ceased following the outbreak of war.
Among these is al-shayl, a traditional arrangement in which a trader finances a farmer against the future harvest, or, in some cases, the land itself as collateral.
Today, however, venturing into one’s fields has become a life-threatening undertaking.
The Dar Hamar Emergency Room documented one such incident on June 7 in Haj Suleiman village, Wadbanda locality, where an RSF fighter allegedly attacked a farming family after they refused to hand over a sack of groundnut seed to an RSF commander. The attack left the father and two of his sons dead.
Before the RSF took control of West Kordofan, nearly nine million feddans were cultivated each agricultural season with crops including groundnuts, sorghum, sesame, watermelon, hibiscus, and various types of cowpeas.
Based on what he has witnessed and heard from relatives across the state, Balla believes farmers will this year cultivate less than one-tenth of the land they planted before the war.
Recruitment Instead of Farming
Al-Hadi Wad al-Garih, a farmer from a village in An-Nuhud locality, told Atar that the Ta’sis Alliance administration, which includes the RSF,(SPLM-N/Al-Hilu), and other forces has provided no support whatsoever for this year’s agricultural season.
Instead, he alleged, its forces confiscate farmers’ tractors and seeds while forcing the sons in farming families, who once helped cultivate their parents’ land, to join their armed ranks.
“The current policy of Ta’sis is to drive people away from farming by making it economically impossible and encouraging them instead to join the fighting. Right now, participating in the war pays better than agriculture,” he said.
For Wad al-Garih, this marks the second consecutive season in which he has been unable to cultivate his land. He once owned two fully equipped tractors, both of which were looted last year. He is now displaced in Al-Managil locality in Al-Jazirah State after what he described as an arduous journey to safety.
He dismissed any discussion of the agricultural season as meaningless under current conditions.
“Who is supposed to farm when entire communities have fled West Kordofan and left their land behind?” he asked.
“How can people cultivate their fields when they are forced to flee to save their lives and prevent their sons from being conscripted into the Ta’sis Alliance forces? Instead of helping young people farm, they are forcing them into military operations despite having no experience whatsoever.”
He recalled that a neighbour’s three sons had all been compelled to join the fighting.
“That was what convinced me to flee with my own children, leaving my land behind.”
He summarized the situation starkly:
“There is no financing for farmers. There are no tractors left to plough the land because they have all been looted. There is no minimum level of security. Going to your farm can cost you your life.”
Even those who managed to cultivate crops last season, he added, found themselves unable to market their harvests because roads remained closed while local markets were already saturated.
“People were forced to leave their harvests in their homes or out in the fields. In the end, they were looted by the RSF and allied groups.”
A single gallon of diesel now sells for between 70,000 and 75,000 Sudanese pounds in West Kordofan, while fertilizers, pesticides, and improved seeds have virtually disappeared from local markets.
As a result, the few farmers still cultivating small plots around villages rely almost entirely on manual land preparation and traditional seeds saved from previous harvests.
“If any government official has ever visited us and offered assistance,” Wad al-Garih said, “let them raise their hand.”
Back to Horse-drawn Ploughs
Our goal is simply to keep agriculture alive and maintain production. We won’t wait. We will do whatever we can for ourselves and for Sudan.
Hussein Manoufli, rain-fed agriculture farmer, Umm Rawaba, North Kordofan.
Conditions have improved somewhat in Umm Rawaba locality, North Kordofan, where the SAF has regained territory after nearly a year of RSF control.
Farmers have gradually resumed cultivation in areas where military operations have subsided after two seasons during which fighting forced many to abandon agriculture altogether.
Rain-fed agriculture farmer Hussein Manoufli told Atar that this year has seen a remarkable level of preparation among farmers compared to previous seasons when the locality served as an active battlefield. Large waves of displaced people from West and South Kordofan have also arrived in the area, leading to the cultivation of land that had previously remained unused.
Nevertheless, fuel shortages continue to undermine those efforts.
“The scarcity of fuel and its soaring price have forced us back to horse-drawn ploughs,” Manoufli said. “It is an old method we abandoned years ago. But today’s circumstances have brought it back.”
“Our goal is simply to keep agriculture alive and maintain production. It may not solve every problem, but it allows us to continue. We won’t wait. We will do whatever we can for ourselves and for Sudan.”
While fertilizers and pesticides remain available, their prices have become prohibitive. A sack of DAP fertilizer now costs 390,000 Sudanese pounds, while urea sells for 280,000 pounds. Labour, however, is plentiful, largely because many displaced people have entered agricultural work.
“There are enough workers in the state today to cultivate thousands of square miles,” Manoufli said.
Agricultural machinery is also available, he noted, but without fuel, it remains largely unusable. Despite these obstacles, Manoufli remains optimistic.
“Security has been restored. Everything else can be solved, he said. “We farmed through the hardest years. During the fighting, we kept ourselves fed by cultivating land close to our homes. Now, with security returning, we are ready to try new approaches.”
Manoufli stressed that neither the federal nor the state government has provided farmers with any meaningful assistance.
“We are financing this season ourselves. The only thing we have gained is security.”
A local official in the Agriculture Department of Sheikan locality, who requested anonymity, told Atar that more than 820,000 feddans were cultivated in the locality last year. This season, however, he expects no more than 100,000 feddans to be planted as large areas of agricultural land remain either outside government control or within active conflict zones, making them inaccessible to farmers.
West of Al-Obeid, the state capital, farmers have abandoned both their homes and their fields amid escalating military activity.
Ahmed Suleiman, a farmer from west of Al-Obeid who is now displaced in the city, said RSF controlling the area prevented farmers from accessing their land.
“We were prevented from cultivating our fields,” he told Atar. “What forced us to flee wasn’t simply the fear of being killed. It was hunger and siege. We couldn’t reach our farms. We tried planting around our homes, but even that small effort was prohibited. They starved us until we abandoned both our homes and our land.”
