‘Manhattan of Darfur’ dreams of better future
June 23, 2008 (NYALA, west Darfur) — Darfur’s biggest city and historic trade hub, Nyala, is a gateway to Sudan with business prospects to entice the intrepid and a cinema keeping light entertainment alive in the dark days of war.
One aid worker described it as “the Manhattan of Darfur” in the sense that 60 percent of the population in Sudan’s vast western province — the size of France — is concentrated in the city and outlying villages.
Nyala has the best infrastructure in Darfur and so for Sudanese and the odd expatriate, the town is a focus of cultural and business opportunities, however fragile in the fifth year of a tribal and ethnic war.
South Darfur, around Nyala, also has the largest melting pot of fractious rebels fighting the government and the highest representation of tribal groups.
“Nyala is one of the richest cities in Darfur and all Sudan. Here we have the biggest population and the biggest quantity of water, resources and livestock,” says local government official Saroor Ahmed Abdallah.
“Definitely, if we see real security and peace in Darfur, this will be one of the most important cities in the area. We will attract investment from everywhere and people from all over the world to a paradise,” he adds.
Boastful of his profit margins from tapping into a limited restaurant market able to provide the discerning customer with a menu of pizza, fast-food style sandwiches, meat and fish dishes is the Egyptian manager of Beatles.
Hossan Mahrus, 28, left his job as a restaurant manager in the Red Sea resort of Sharm el-Sheikh to set up a branch of the chain in Nyala.
“The company decided to set up another restaurant. They saw how important the town is with the foreigners, the international organisations. And things are going very well,” says Mahrus, lighting up a Malboro Red.
He puts the restaurant’s monthly profit at 7,000 to 10,000 dollars and says he earns 1,000 dollars a month, lives rent free on the premises and is saving for his impending marriage in Egypt to his fiancee.
Dressed in tight fitting black shirt and tight jeans, he oversees the running of the restaurant, that employs only Egyptians, from morning until midnight.
“There’s a joke in Egypt: an Egyptian asks a Sudanese ‘what do you do that makes you sleep so well?’ And the Sudanese answers ‘as soon as I get up, I start to rest’,” says Mahrus, laughing at what he considers their laziness.
Zouhir Tahir Ismail runs what he calls the only cinema in Darfur — an outdoor arena-style picture house that plays Bollywood action flicks and romances to a crowd of young men in the evening and families in the day.
Posters flashing plenty of cleavage, gooey-eyed women, action and adventure heros can be seen from the road through the metal gates and line the peeling walls in Ismail’s grubby ground-floor office.
“When people come to see the films, they are so moved. Indian films are popular because they show the poor winning against the rich,” says Ismail grinning, his two front teeth missing.
Business used to be better. Now people are too frightened by insecurity to travel into Nyala, particularly in the evenings, to watch a film. New technology such as television and DVDs also keeps some people at home.
“After 11pm, nobody can go out,” Ismail says. UN officials need to be home by 9pm. It’s too dangerous to bring rented film reels by road from Khartoum. Flying is too expensive. So he uses the train. It takes seven days.
“Things are getting worse. The view of society has changed. It is no longer considered quite right or polite society to go to the cinema,” he said.
Yet he is adamant about staying open.
“It’s the only entertainment in Darfur. It’s part of me. I’m sure that if security comes back to Darfur, cinema will have a big future in Nyala. It’s now particularly that we need to give people a little enjoyment,” said Ismail.
Teacher and poet Mohamed Mustafa al-Kordofani is a dedicated cinema-goer in Nyala, despite his fears when the conflict started.
“When the fighting came in this city, I was afraid,” he told AFP speaking in broken English as he flicked through his journal for one of his poems.
“But the cinema takes people up to the level of being citizens. The cinema gives us strength and drama,” he says.
The films he most likes are book adaptation. The books he most likes are Agatha Christie mysteries.
Free enterprise can be seen most places in Darfur, not just in Nyala. Even some of the grimmest camps of tens of thousands of internally displaced persons have their small-time entrepreneurs.
Aisha Adam, 30, does a brisk trade and keeps a spick and span tea stall in Al-Salam IDP camp, a drive across the dusty desert outside Nyala.
Three teas for one pound (half a dollar) and working morning until afternoon earn her 10-15 pounds a day (5 to 7.5 dollars) which is enough to eat her mid-morning breakfast in a restaurant rather than rely only on aid handouts.
She brews the coffee in a Milcow Instant Full Cream Milk Powder pot and invites people to rest their drinks on miniature coffee tables hammered out of old USA Refined Vegetable Oil (vitamin fortified, not to be sold or exchanged) cans.
Across the way is Yacoub al-Dif’s stall of accessories, perfume, hair clips, oils, bras and handbags hanging from the stall roof — all adorned with tinsel and just a short drive away from the poorest families receiving food aid.
(AFP)