Supporting Sudanese Women, Queer and Gender-Diverse Musicians and Artists in Times of War, Conflict, and Genocide
- Written by Ronnie Vitalia
(Please find the PDF version here)
The Struggles of Sudanese Women and Gender-Diverse Artists
In times of war, conflict, and genocide, art transcends mere expression, becoming a beacon of resistance, a tool for healing, and an essential means of preserving cultural identity. For women, Queer, and gender-diverse artists, however, these periods of crisis highlight the risks they face, threatening not just their livelihoods but their very survival. In Sudan, where political instability and economic hardship have deeply fractured creative communities, these challenges reach a critical point, leaving marginalized artists to navigate a perilous landscape of oppression and vulnerability.
Before the genocide engulfed Sudan on April 15, 2023, a thriving graffiti art scene symbolized the defiance of a people seeking justice, particularly during the revolution. Protesters used government buildings and institutions as canvases for their messages, while music and chants amplified demands for change. Yet, for those who were visibly active—particularly those whose videos went viral—there was always the constant risk of arrest and military retaliation, often leading to enforced disappearances or prolonged detentions. Women and gender-diverse artists in conflict zones endure a layered and compounded form of oppression. Systemic barriers, economic instability, and direct threats to personal safety create a suffocating environment where creativity and expression are constantly under siege. The destruction of cultural spaces, forced displacement, and severe limitations on access to financial and institutional support deepen these challenges, making it increasingly difficult for these artists to sustain their craft or continue advocating for change.
One of the most alarming cases that underscores the dangers facing women artists in Sudan is that of singer Aisha Al-Jabal. In 2020, she was subjected to violent gang harassment, an incident captured on video and widely shared. While some rallied in solidarity, others cruelly blamed Aisha for the attack, exemplifying the pervasive culture of victim-blaming in Sudanese society. This culture of systematic gender-based violence (GBV) is widespread, perpetuated by entrenched social norms and the absence of legal protections. Aisha's ordeal is a stark reminder of the misogyny embedded within societal attitudes that contribute to the silencing of women artists. For many, the violence is not only physical or sexual but also intersected by economic marginalization and regional discrimination, particularly for women from southern and western Sudanese backgrounds.
For Sudan’s LGBTQIA+ community, the risks are even more extreme. In July 2020, Sudan repealed the death penalty for same-sex sexual activity and corporal punishment. However, some sexual practices remain a criminal offense, with harsh penalties, including imprisonment and life sentences. Many LGBTQIA+ individuals are forced to live in hiding, disconnected from family or supportive communities, which increases their vulnerability—especially as they are forced to flee across borders. This isolation exacerbates the dangers they face, placing them at heightened risk in already treacherous environments.
Creating Safe Spaces for Musicians and Artists
As a Sudanese artist in exile, I have faced erasure and marginalization in many artistic and creative spaces. During a past internship, I was asked to translate a solidarity statement for Palestine into Arabic. Yet, when I asked why there was no similar statement for Sudan—despite the fact that the Sudanese genocide began long before October 7th—I was told, "We are not a journalism platform." This response reflected a deeper issue: how anti-Black racism normalizes the suffering of Black and African people, even in so-called progressive spaces. This illusion that non-Black people hold about Sudanese, Congolese, and Haitian people—as if they are engaging in an "oppression Olympics" or trying to divert attention from Gaza—boils down to nothing more than the verbally violent, universal racist vocabulary.
Local organizations and communities can only truly provide safe spaces if they move beyond performative allyship. Too often, Sudan is treated as an afterthought, a footnote in global discussions about crises. No amount of media coverage will create safety for Sudanese artists unless anti-Black racism is actively deconstructed at the core of these efforts. Safe spaces require intentional, anti-racist, and decolonial approaches, not token gestures.
The Struggle for Liberation and Human Dignity: Focusing on Sudan
Sudan remains a victim of colonial-era policies that dehumanized its people, and the global silence surrounding its ongoing suffering continues to enable injustice. A major obstacle to addressing this issue is the lack of accountability, which allows oppression to be overlooked or ignored. Sudanese voices are often delegitimize, True justice demands dismantling the hierarchy of selective activism—global solidarity is not optional; it is a necessity.
Liberation from colonial legacies is essential for global freedom and healing. These legacies continue to shape systems of oppression that dehumanize entire communities. The racism born out of centuries of colonialism and enslavement still affects marginalized groups, including Black, Indigenous, and People of Colour (BIPOC). Systemic racism, deeply embedded in institutions, continues to divide societies, benefiting a select few by sustaining the ongoing theft and exploitation, blocking systemic change.
The ongoing dehumanization of Sudanese people and the failure to recognize their humanity are direct consequences of colonial systems that denied us equality. For nearly 600 years, racist laws have been institutionalized, shaping how we engage with history. It is not enough to acknowledge the presence of colonialism or racism without examining the nuances of how these forces continue to operate.
Raising Awareness in Overlooked Crises
We do not need Western media coverage; we need tangible support. People in the West frequently post about global south issues on their social media stories, but let’s be honest—that's dopamine-driven activism. It allows them to feel good about themselves without creating real change.
Western media attention does not help if it is not followed by action—raising funds, saving lives, and opening doors to opportunities. For example, even the global recognition of Black Lives Matter has not prevented the continued racial profiling and murder of Black people in the U.S. It is important that white allyship doesn't end at performative activism and engage into systemic change. Sudan needs more than awareness; we need material support and structural interventions.
On the other hand , we have local Initiatives like Towards Feminist Consciousness, where I have written many of my first ever published articles. They have been instrumental in supporting women and gender-diverse artists and activists from a Pan-Africanist Queer feminist perspective. This platform is not only a strong voice highlighting Western Sahara occupation, but also challenges dominant ideologies through digital Archiving, writing, readings, and discussions while publishing articles that expose patriarchal, classist, racist, and capitalist oppression. They also work to document and build solidarity with marginalized communities across the African continent.
How Local and International Collaborations Can Foster Solidarity
International collaborations can only be meaningful if Sudanese artists are not forced to create under survival mode. Many artists and musicians from Sudan who have fled the war are emotionally and physically drained, struggling to rebuild their lives after witnessing the devastation of their homeland. They are not only grieving their personal losses but also mourning the destruction of their instruments and artwork. In such circumstances, it is unreasonable to expect them to keep producing. Art is labor—it demands mental clarity, stability, and a safe environment to thrive.
Rather than expecting Sudanese artists to continue performing and producing for international audiences, festivals and producers must take the initiative. They should extend invitations, offer resources, and provide financial and structural support without demanding artistic labor rooted in trauma. Meanwhile, successful and highly visible artists with more privilege and access can also play a role in fostering meaningful collaborations. True solidarity can only be transformative when it recognizes that the labor of an artist should not be exploited without concrete support in return.
Overcoming Barriers to Visibility for Refugee and Exiled Artists
Refugee and exiled women and gender-diverse artists face systemic barriers that limit access to funding, networks, and opportunities, making it difficult to sustain artistic careers. Displacement adds another layer of invisibility, further restricting their ability to gain recognition and support. While digital platforms offer some visibility, dominant narratives favor privileged artists, and increasing online censorship in conflict zones threatens these vital lifelines. Protecting unrestricted digital spaces is crucial for outreach and artistic expression. However, visibility alone is not enough. Without urgent action to expedite refugee cases and ensure safety, any recognition remains hollow. Many of these artists confront life-threatening conditions and long-term health issues, including disabilities, PTSD, and depression, as a result of the harsh realities of displacement and war. It is essential that safe spaces be reimagined as truly inclusive environments that elevate every marginalized voice—including those of D/deaf, disabled, and chronically ill artists—so that creative communities can be both accessible and supportive to all.
In addition to these social and safety challenges, financial barriers further restrict artistic opportunities. For example, platforms like GoFundMe do not support fundraisers from Africa, forcing artists to depend on intermediaries in the West. This reliance not only causes delays and logistical complications but also exposes them to vulnerabilities, thereby limiting access to the essential resources needed to sustain their careers.
Addressing these intertwined issues—digital marginalization, safety, health challenges, and financial exclusion—is critical. Only through comprehensive action that targets all these barriers can we hope to secure genuine visibility and lasting support for refugee and exiled artists.
Beyond Visibility: The Urgent Need for Refuge and Support for Displaced Artists
For Sudanese refugees fleeing genocide, visibility must be backed by immediate action—streamlining asylum processes and removing bureaucratic hurdles that jeopardize their lives. Neighboring countries, benefiting from war capitalism, must be held accountable for exploiting displaced Sudanese. Many refugees endure harrowing journeys through deserts, facing starvation, dehydration, and lack of hygiene, only to encounter further cruelty at borders, where exorbitant entry fees—often thousands of dollars—leave them stranded and vulnerable.
Staying Connected: The Power of Sudanese Artists Amid Genocide
In the midst of genocide and violence in Sudan, staying connected is not just important—it is a matter of survival. While some advocate disengagement from digital spaces, the reality is far more complex. The oppression we face is not only physical but also extends online. These platforms, governed by policies that perpetuate systemic violence, attempt to erase our existence—limiting access to information about Sudan’s genocide and muting Sudanese artists. Major music platforms like Spotify remain unavailable in Sudan, South Sudan, and much of Africa, reflecting a broader pattern of digital exclusion.
Representation of South Sudanese Artists
Far too often, I see Sudanese events that make no reference to South Sudan, as if it were unaffected by the genocide in Sudan. In reality, South Sudan has endured a deeply destabilizing transitional period both before and after its secession on July 9, 2011.
The dominance of North and Central Sudanese artists in the media is undeniable, with colorism playing a significant role in this imbalance. The South Sudanese experience of Blackness is particularly challenging. However, moments like the South Sudanese basketball team’s victory at the Olympics have helped bring visibility to the nation. Shockingly, many people only learned in 2024 that South Sudan is an independent country, highlighting the severe lack of representation. This absence extends to the arts, where South Sudanese artists struggle for recognition despite their immense talent and contributions.
We can support South Sudanese artists by attending events, buying their music, and promoting them online. Advocating for artists' rights, donating to refugee artists, and backing diaspora initiatives can drive change. Uplifting their voices ensures better representation of the region's culture.
Strengthening Support for Displaced Artists
To uplift women and gender-diverse artists in conflict zones, sustained investment in arts education, policy advocacy, and international partnerships is important. Funding must be accessible, mentorship should prioritize underrepresented voices, and cultural institutions must support at-risk artists.
Displaced artists seek refuge while rebuilding their identity and creative voices. Community care is crucial, with local and diaspora networks providing emotional, logistical, and social support. Safe spaces, resource-sharing, and peer support help combat isolation, fostering solidarity and ensuring displaced artists feel valued, empowered, and able to continue their work.
About Ronnie Vitalia
Ronnie Vitalia, a Sudanese Black feminist, Queer rights activist, and Afropolitan writer, currently collaborates as a Fellow/cinematic curator on Cinelogue for their Afro Queer Voices project, focusing on Black Queer visibility and amplifying the stories of Black LGBTQIA+ filmmakers. Passionate about advancing African LGBTQIA+ and women’s rights, Ronnie combines a love for the arts with advocacy for social justice. Through their writing and curatorial projects, they explore African Queer identities and promote diversity in cinema and cultural production. With diverse experiences, including roles in Berlin’s cultural scene and contributions to Queer feminist platforms, their work explores themes of visibility, identity, and resilience, often in the context of global conflicts and social injustice.