‘I’d rather come here than die there': Ethiopians return to Sudan camp they lived in decades ago

Gebrehewet Gidey has lived in the scraggy wasteland of eastern Sudan before. When his family flew from the ruthless Marxist Derg regime and Ethiopia's infamous famine in the 1980s, he spent time in exactly the same camp, called 'Um Rakuba'. His father planted the tree in the background, that has now fully grown.  - Joost Bastmeijer/The Telegraph
Gebrehewet Gidey has lived in the scraggy wasteland of eastern Sudan before. When his family flew from the ruthless Marxist Derg regime and Ethiopia's infamous famine in the 1980s, he spent time in exactly the same camp, called 'Um Rakuba'. His father planted the tree in the background, that has now fully grown. - Joost Bastmeijer/The Telegraph

For a brief moment when he saw the tree his father had planted in the Sudanese refugee camp many decades ago, the old man forgot the knives and explosions which had forced him to flee Ethiopia a second time.

“My father planted this tree when we lived here before,” said Gebrehiwot Gidey.

“It was 10pm when we arrived at the camp, but I could see the tree in the dark. I went up to it and kissed it. I was so happy to see it was still here.”

In the Eighties, tens of thousands of people like Mr Gidey fled a ruthless Marxist dictatorship and a vast famine in Ethiopia across the mountains into the scraggy wasteland of Eastern Sudan.

Mr Gidey, a 60-year-old man from the Tigray region in northern Ethiopia, lived for years with his family near the border in Um-Rakoba camp. He built a house for himself there and married his wife under the tree his father planted to provide shade from the harsh desert sun.

Eventually, when it was safe, Mr Gidey returned to his home in northern Ethiopia’s Tigray region. But now the weathered farmer has had to flee to Um-Rakoba once again.

Since the Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2019, sent his powerful federal military to oust the regional government in Tigray region on November 4, some 42,000 refugees have crossed into Sudan.

For many of the older souls like Mr Gidey, the exodus is all too familiar. Dozens, probably hundreds, of refugees are returning to a desolate land they lived in for years previously during the turbulent 1974-87 rule of the Derg junta, Ethiopia’s ruthless Marxist dictatorship.

The Marxist-Leninist policies and mass-murdering death squads of the Derg’s leader Mengistu Haile Mariam helped create one of the most appalling humanitarian crises in modern history.

An Ethiopian family walks through the dusty environment that surrounds the town of Hamdayet - Joost Bastmeijer 
An Ethiopian family walks through the dusty environment that surrounds the town of Hamdayet - Joost Bastmeijer

From 1983 to 1985, Mengistu’s scorched earth campaign against the guerrilla fighters of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) and a massive drought unleashed a biblical famine on the country, killing anywhere from 200,000 to 1.5 million people.

Hundreds of thousands of people fled the murderous security forces and hunger. Photos of the emaciated children were broadcast around the world and drove rockstars like Bob Geldof to launch LiveAid in 1985. 

Some of the refugees fleeing Mr Abiy’s brutal military push today are walking the same paths trodden by those refugees.

Many carry little more than the clothes on their backs and their official papers. One young woman said that she had to flee the fighting so quickly that she left naked.

One 55-year-old man at the border, Mr Gebiezier from the city of Mai-Kadra, was arrested by the Derg regime in 1985 but managed to escape into Sudan where he lived for seven years in exile.

When asked how he felt about returning to Um-Rakoba camp, his shoulders slump dejectedly. “I’d rather come here than die there,” he said.

An envoy of African Union officials met with Mr Abiy this week in an attempt to help mediate in the conflict as the federal government prepares to attack Mekelle, Tigray’s regional capital of 500,000 people. Rights groups have warned that the assault could constitute a war crime.

In a statement following the meeting, Mr Abiy said only that the government was committed to the "protection and security of civilians", with no mention of talks with the TPLF to end the fighting.

Humanitarians are bracing for up to 200,000 refugees in the next few months and the sudden influx has caused alarm in Khartoum, Sudan’s capital.

A boat crossing the Tekeze River, helping refugees get to the other side - Joost Bastmeijer /The Telegraph
A boat crossing the Tekeze River, helping refugees get to the other side - Joost Bastmeijer /The Telegraph

Since Omar al-Bashir, Sudan’s Islamist dictator, was ousted by a popular revolution in April last year, the country has been led by a fragile alliance of civilian officials and powerful military factions.

On top of this, the country is in economic crisis: the price of bread has soared and queues at petrol stations can stretch for hundreds of metres. Now Sudan will have to house the refugees and tread a diplomatic tightrope with its powerful neighbour.

However, the Sudanese people, who are famed for their hospitality, have reacted with generosity to the refugees. Multiple people told The Telegraph that they had been given food and free accommodation by local villagers, who are themselves among the poorest people in the world.

A woman inspects the coffee beans she has just roasted on a little fire in Sudan's Um Rakoba refugee settlement. Even though most people only had very limited space to bring their belongings when fleeing Ethiopia's brutal civil war, The Telegraph saw that many Ethiopians traveled to Sudan with their kitchen utensils and Ethiopian coffee beans.  - Joost Bastmeijer/The Telegraph

Um-Rakoba camp was closed 20 years ago. Now refugees, many of them teachers, civil servants and students, are busy building new homes out wicker, wood and tarpaulins in the empty fields.

Amid the chaos, some have managed to hold on to a small bit of home. Coffee-making is a revered art in Ethiopia and in the camps The Telegraph visited, several women were busy burning incense and grinding coffee beans.

Standing in the shade of his father’s tree, Mr Gidey allows himself a small laugh at the irony of it all. “I never thought I’d see this place again,” he says.