Half of border-straddling town emptied by Sudan’s latest war
By Beatrice Debut
TINE, on the Sudan-Chad border, Jan 28 (AFP) — To the west of the dry river bed that cuts it in two, the town of Tine is all hustle and bustle, with a teeming marketplace and countless donkeys weighed down with sacks of grain.
To the east, it’s a different story: only the occasional goat still dares roam streets frequently targetted by aerial bombardments.
The seasonal river marks the border between Sudan’s Darfur region and Chad, between war and peace, mortal danger and sanctuary.
Thousands of people from the eastern, Sudanese, side of Tine, have fled a conflict pitting government forces backed by militia groups against rebels who rose up in February 2003 to press home demands for more development.
Since then, at least 3,000 people civilians have been killed and more than 100,000 Darfurians have crossed the border into Chad.
Chad’s blue, yellow and red tricolor flutters over the border post in Tine. Three guards are on duty but none bothers to check the papers of the few people foolhardy enough to head east.
Across the river bed, a few rebels wearing djelabbahs and armed with AK-47 assault rifles sit on the ground.
Nearby, the remains of a goat lie slowly baking in the sun. Apart from a few plastic bags floating in the breeze, nothing moves.
The houses, made of mud and tree branches, are empty.
On a patch of land surrounded by a low wall is a small crater, lots of ash, rubble, charred kitchen utensils and a blackened kerosine lamp.
“My house was bombed on January 7, at about 3:00 am,” recalls Abubker Hamid Nour, a senior official with the Movement for Justice and Equality, one of two rebel groups active in Darfur.
“Two people were killed, including my three-year-old cousin,” adds the rebel leader, who wears a turban, a djellabah and khaki trousers. His satellite phone is always to hand.
On one wall of the now roofless house, a painting hangs intact. It depicts two doves flying above green heart pierced by an arrow.
Real, live birds have made a new home in one corner of the residence.
A growing rumble signals the approach of a government Antonov.
“Get down! Get down!,” the rebel leader shouts at the journalists he is escorting.
Several bombs fall nearby, sending plumes of black smoke rising from struck houses.
A few minutes later the plane returns with a roar. This time the bombs fall further away.
According to Abobker Hamid Nour, government planes bomb the Sudanese side of Tine every day.
This claim is backed up by the tireless team from Medecins sans Fronteieres (Doctors Without Borders) who run a hospital for the war-wounded on the Chadian side of town.
Clouds of incense waft up from the banks of the river, where some women sell tomatoes as others cut up a goat.
It’s 3:30 in the afternoon and three men unroll a mat and prostrate themselves, facing east.