Beginnings

The western Sudan region of Darfur was known in the past for its long history of statehood, mosaic ethnic groups, and rich and diverse culture. Long before the Sudan became a state, Darfur had for centuries its own identity and organized polity and system of governing. In 1873 by a twist of fate it became part of or rather appendex of Nile valey instead of the Sahel region or Chad basin where it naturally belongs and finds itself at ease. Unlike other regions of Sudan, Darfur was incorporated in to Sudan by use of brute force. First in 1872 when the Sultanate was invaded and conqured by the slave merchant Zebier Rahma Mansor on behalf of Turko Egyptian administration in the Nile valley, but reverted back to independence in 1899, and again in 1916 when invaded by the Anglo Egyptian colonial administration in Khartoum and annexted to Sudan.

With the turn of the twenty first centuray the name Darfur, up to the writing of this memoir became synonymous with disaster, tragedy, crisis, atrocity, suffering, and survival. Since 2003, Darfur has been under siege by its own Sudanese national government and its allied militias, known by various names as time goes on, (Janjaweed, The fearful and light and fast, the rapid support force etc) with no sign of cessation of hostilities in sight but imposition of calm by brute force, no alleviation of the suffering. Hundreds of thousands dead; millions displaced and on the brink of death. Tragedy and fear, despair and uncertainty became the order of the day and the new normal. While governments and the international community argue about Darfur and the human rights violations committed there, the humans continue to face violation, starvation, death, genocide by attrition, and complete change of their way of life.

How Darfur the once beautiful, peaceful, and serene land came to this is my story. It is the story of every Darfuri from Kefiakangi to Owenat, from Tine to Sharif-kabashi, a story of various tribes of Benga, Kerisha and Bagara of the south, and Zaghawa, Massalit, Fur, Tunjur and Midop of the west and north as well as a story of Berti, Bergid and others in the east. Whether I am a good teller of the story, or good narrator of the historical oral tradition corroborated by documented events I will leave to the judgment of the reader. This story is also my perspective a recount of my own story and observations and participation in these events, a recounting of my contribution to the struggle of the people of Darfur towards self-realization and freedom. I write so that truth as I expreiced it will be known to succeeding generations

Before I became the teller of this tale, I was Bahradin. Like many Zaghawa families and households who cherish and commemorate the nobles and notables of the land, I was probably named by my father after the Sultan Bahradin of Dar Massalit, or Amir Bahradin, son of Sultan Ali Dinar. Often times he fondly called me Amir!but not Sultan, obviously because I was his favorite. To the rest of the family, I was simply Bardin. My mother favored to call me Derea - the shield – and also Amir - the prince - of the family.

I am the son of Hoqi Eram, Arabicised to Faki Ibrahim, a prominent religious healer in the cluster of villages in the small locality of Oro of Dar Toweir. He was the son of Arbi, the son of Hesien, the son of Adam Morme, the son of Tejero, the son of Hoqi, the son of Midoye, great-grandson of Karta the son of Nedy, great-grandson of Deqin the son of Omat - better known as Mahamat Bornawe, the son of Haj Ali.

My mother, Gania (changed to Khatra in Arabic documents), a woman in the environtment of traditionally conservative Zaghaqa society was of strong will, rare courage, and independent Opinion, She was the only child of her mother Hawa Hari, and the daughter of Haron, the son of Njorom, the son of Arko, the son of Bodi, the son of Adalla, who was also great-grandson of Karta from whom my father's family descended. In Zaghawa tradition they were distant cousins.

My grand mother Hawa Hari was the sister of the legendry Esakha better known as Esakha Tamara the Red-Headed, the venerated and charismatic Eladegain leader. When I was a child, my grandmother and the other village elders told stories about Tamara and the many battles he fought to defend the fatherland from marauding Arabs who sought to seize the land and enslave its people and in the service of Sultanate of Darfur's army.

My name, both Arabic and Islamic in origin and meaning, reflected my father's deep respect for the Darfur Sultans and their descendants. When I enrolled at the primary school, it was further Arabicised in the quest by Khartoum authorities to Arabize every non-Arab group and person. In the Sudano Lavantine tradition of standard Arabic, I was called Bahreldin Ibrahim Arabie, known in later years as Bahar Arabie.

Due to the absence of birth records, I do not know exact date of my birth, but only sure of my birth place, which is the ancestral village of Yakesie in Oro. My birth date could be some time between 1954 and 1957. I adopted 1957 as the year of my birth and chose January 1st as my birthday, as do most of the Sudanese without a birth certificate, because January 1st is the day of Sudan's declaration of independence.

My mother had two girls before me: Zerga the eldest, and Sonda, who later went by the Arabicized name of Aisha at school. After me, Mother had six other children: Eshaq, Nora, Deli, Aziza, Hawa, and Farah. Deli, Aziza, and Hawa died before the age of five from the measles, whooping cough, and lack of adequate medical care. Nora, whom I dearly loved, died tragically, but that dark event comes later in my story. Zerga, my mother's first, was the pillar of the household until she was given away in marriage. She was a rare human being of light spirit and an easy going sense of humor. She died in a tragic motor accident at age 57 and was survived by many children.

My father had two children from earlier marriage, with aunt Khadoj, whom I never met as she died many years before even my father married my mother, my elder two half siblings are Halom and Abdelkarim better known as Ediah. As I grew up I come to know both of them as my full siblings, as we all lived in the same...