Dar es Salaam. Hassan Tibwa, 25, never thought he would ever find himself trapped in the middle of a war that Tanzania has never witnessed
or imagined. However, getting the opportunity to study in Sudan has given him a serious life experience.He arrived in Khartoum in 2017 from Tanzania, where his family
runs a modest hardware store in a small town in Mwanza. An Islamic charity had
awarded a scholarship for Mr Tibwa to study engineering at the International
University of Africa in Khartoum.
With only one semester left to finish his studies, what is common
in that country—Sudan—violence, this time around war, unfolded, and that is
what he was praying not to happen because he believed his life would be in
danger.
However, the weight of his prayers did not exceed that of the
great work that was waiting for him soon after the military war broke out in
the country.
“This is where I suddenly found myself becoming a rescuer,” Mr Tibwa told The Citizen in a conversation.
What bothers him the most is that he never informed his parents
the truth about the place where he went to study; all they know is that their
son went to study in Algeria.
This is due to their reservations about Sudan’s history of violent
turmoil.
Mr Tibwa had to adjust to a new lifestyle for nearly six years
because he could never afford to return home.
As warring generals turned Sudan’s capital into a war zone, Mr
Tibwa and his friend, a Sudanese, found themselves in a tough moment, ending up
being the rescuers of other victims.
He explained that they found themselves navigating their way
through the chaos in a car and rescuing about 60 desperate people.
“Until now, they still don’t know everything that happened,” he
said.
“I just prayed and worked as hard as I could to make sure I was
safe. I didn’t want them to be worried or scared about what was going on. I
believe all this is in God’s plans, who understands better what plans he has
for me.”
How it unfolded
In the first days of Sudan’s war, the university student felt
helpless. Mr Tibwa and his friend had to lock themselves in their apartment in
the capital, Khartoum, glued to social media as the battle unfolded.
The hero tells The Citizen that they shook
their souls as the walls trembled from explosions and gunshots, taking refuge
in the passageway.
“We really wondered where Sudan was going and I was miles away
from home.”
Due to Mr Tibwa and his colleague being known taxi drivers in the
area with many customers having their contacts, on the fifth day, April 19, his
phone rang. It was someone who needed a taxi.
According to him, it was a senior official of the United Nations
(UN), who was their main client, who explained an incident concerning a
40-year-old woman who was trapped in her house in an upscale neighbourhood.
Her condition was desperate. Trucks mounted with guns were parked
outside her building, shooting at the fighter jets flying overhead.
Black smoke was pouring into his house following an imminent
airstrike.
Narrating the incident, the caller told the tax drivers that the
old woman had run out of water and her cell phone battery had gone down to five
percent.
Could they rescue her?
The students, Mr Tibwa and Mr Sami al-Gada, 23, in their final
year of mechanical engineering, had to respond to the call, but this time
around, the call was not for a pay job; it was a pity to sacrifice themselves
following the situation at that time.
They called the woman. “She was screaming,” Mr Tibwa recounted.
“After a few minutes, her phone turned off completely. We were more worried,
wondering how the old woman would survive.”
According to the New York Times (NYT) report, the two gentlemen at
long last jumped into the car, a dinged, seven-year-old Toyota sedan, and set
off into the city, horrified at its transformation. Bullet holes poked through
buildings. Charred vehicles littered the streets. Fighters were everywhere.
Crunching over bullet casings, they navigated a gantlet of check
posts manned by jittery fighters from the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces,
some wearing bandages or limping. The fighters scanned the students’ phones and
peppered them with questions. It took an hour to travel four miles.
“We went through hell,” Mr Tibwa said.
They found the UN official, named Patience, alone at her apartment
in an apparently deserted building. She had been hiding in her bathroom for
days, slowly depleting three cellphones, she said, showing them a scattering of
bullet holes in her living room wall.
Mr Tibwa and his colleague consoled her, wrapped her in an
all-covering robe, and realised another part of the story. Their passenger was
pregnant and needed to get to the hospital. They paused to say a prayer. “We
knew that the moment we stepped out, there was no going back.”
Forty-five minutes and 10 checkposts later, their Toyota pulled up
outside the Al Salam, one of Khartoum’s most expensive hotels and now a
five-star refugee camp. Patience wept with relief. After collecting herself and
checking in, she sat the students down to ask an urgent question.
Could they go back and rescue her friends too?
Over the following week, Mr Tibwa noted, they rescued dozens of
desperate people from one of Khartoum’s fiercest battle zones. Along the way,
they were robbed, handcuffed, and threatened with execution.
The fighters accused them of being spies. Diplomats implored them
to retrieve their passports and pets. Shellfire and stray bullets fell around
their car.
“The difficult incident we encountered that made me feel that it
was the end of me was when we were detained by the RSF army for over 6 hours. I
asked myself many questions as I remembered home,” Mr Tibwa explained. “Worse,
my parents had no clue about me in Sudan.”
Over six days, as the war surged between two feuding military
factions—the army and the Rapid Support Forces paramilitary group—the students
helped at least 60 people: South African teachers, Rwandan diplomats, Russian
aid workers, and UN workers from many countries, including Kenya, Zimbabwe,
Sweden and the United States.
According to the NYT, every rescuee interviewed said the students
had not asked for payment and the only word for them was “heroes.”
“Despite all the chaos, the fear, and the bombing,” they said,
“Sami and Hassan were the ones who turned up.”
A life-long lesson and call
According to Tibwa, they were able to be among the lucky ones who
were evacuated by the Kenyan military plane and now they are in Nairobi,
continuing to pray for God’s mercy for the situation in Sudan to stabilise.
“At the moment, I am not in Sudan. I left, and I am in Nairobi
now. The situation in Sudan has deteriorated, people are fleeing their country
in large numbers. I left college with only one semester left to finish, but
there is no hope,” he explained. “The situation is completely inexplicable, and
the possibility of returning is very minimal,” he added.
He said that he has been trying to at least connect with his
friends and the people they helped, to see if they can get sponsors who will
help them finish their studies outside of Sudan.
“This is what is in front of us at the moment,” he disclosed,
“after which I will be able to return home, which I miss a lot.”
Having lived in Sudan for the past five years, Mr Tibwa noted that
he has seen a lot, since President Albashir was removed from power by a huge
protest. He has seen a transitional government being formed.
“All this has given me great experience that democracy and peace
are very important,” he reminded. “It is important for Tanzanians to appreciate
and ensure that we maintain unity and peace as a nation.”
“The experience of war was a horrific one. I have seen
people die, and be displaced from their homes. It’s an experience no one
deserves to live through,” he cautioned.
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