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100,001 Responses: From Dongola to Nyala

As Sudan’s war shattered formal systems of protection and relief, ordinary citizens, neighborhood committees, professionals, and diaspora networks built vast, improvised forms of mutual aid that reveal another Sudan: solidaristic, resourceful, and humane.

المساعدة المتبادلة في السودان: مستقبل المعونى؟
Humanitarian Practice Network · By نيلز كارستنسن لوديا سبت · 8 August 2024 · read the original in Arabic →

في كل قرية وبلدة مررنا بها كان الناس يخرجون بعصير الكركديه والماء البارد “للوافدين من الخرطوم”. تجربة تدعو للتواضع لأنه ليس لديهم الكثير ولكنهم يقدمون بسخاء. لماذا أترك ذلك؟

In every village and town we passed through, people came out with hibiscus juice and cold water “for those arriving from Khartoum.” It is a humbling experience: they do not have much, yet they give generously. Why would I leave that?

(Tweet dated April 24, 2023, @dalliasd)(تغريدة بتاريخ 24 أبريل / نيسان 2023، @dalliasd)

نجحت اللجنة المدنية بمدينة الفاشر في وقف إطلاق النار بين قوات الدعم السريع والقوات المسلحة السودانية. ضمت اللجنة أئمة مساجد ورجال الإدارة المدنية ونشطاء بالإضافة إلى والوالي

The civil committee in the city of El Fasher succeeded in halting the fire between the Rapid Support Forces and the Sudanese Armed Forces. The committee included mosque imams, figures from the civil administration, activists, and the governor.

(Tweet dated April 23, 2023, @qoga12)(تغريدة بتاريخ 23 أبريل / نيسان 2023، @qoga12)

We call on the operators of fighter aircraft to stop bombing the Bahri area and give us a chance to get out. I have family members in wheelchairs.

(Tweet dated May 3, 2023, @SudanzUprising)(تغريدة بتاريخ 3 مايو / أيار 2023، @SudanzUprising)

In mid-April, as Sudan’s military leaders were dragging an entire nation into chaos, death, and destruction, another side of Sudan and the Sudanese appeared to those willing to look beyond the blaring media headlines. Amid media and social-media coverage of fighting, killing, and displacement, there were glimpses of the efforts being made by “ordinary” Sudanese to help themselves and those within reach. By contrast, at the same time, much conventional humanitarian aid had all but come to a halt.

Perhaps because most of the reporting on the ground was done by correspondents who were themselves Sudanese or closely connected to Sudan, the efforts of medical professionals, pharmacists, drivers, traders, water technicians, and many others with skills and resources to take part featured early in major media such as Al Jazeera, the BBC, Reuters, and The Guardian, as well as in specialist outlets such as The New Humanitarian. Likewise, social-media platforms, including Twitter, now “X,” Facebook, YouTube, and WhatsApp, filled with posts about citizen-led attempts to rescue and support others in need. When access to electricity and the internet allowed, these platforms also functioned as channels of communication and tools for planning responses, gathering information and locally available resources, as well as crowdfunding these efforts.

For outside observers, this shed light, however anecdotal and incomplete, on how people and groups connected, coordinated, and worked on an astonishingly varied range of responses. Alongside conversations with Sudanese colleagues, following the relevant hashtags and handles was like watching a flood of humanity and solidarity, mutual aid, locally led responses, and spontaneous collective self-help against all odds, whichever term one prefers for these highly varied efforts.

This article offers an overview of the diversity and spread of mutual aid and other locally led Sudanese efforts in the months after fighting broke out between the Sudanese Armed Forces and the Rapid Support Forces on April 15. In doing so, it is wholly indebted to the individuals and groups making these efforts, to the insights shared by key people interviewed inside and outside Sudan, and to the creators of professional media coverage and social-media contributions.

Given the nature of this diverse response, and given the situation in Sudan, measuring the scale and impact of these efforts is extremely difficult. Yet it seems important to show the diversity and indicate the scale of the responses and responders and their geographic spread, while also capturing early experiences of how outsiders might support such efforts. The hope is that this will inspire external actors to explore and find ways to support mutual aid and other locally led efforts, not least because humanitarian responses by most external aid actors effectively reached a dead end within hours of the outbreak of fighting and, at the time of writing, remain modest in relation to increasingly urgent needs. A better understanding of mutual-aid efforts in Sudan since April 15 may also help guide external aid actors in crises elsewhere that share similar characteristics.

One point, however, should be noted. Although the mutual aid and locally made efforts mentioned here are remarkable and impressive, this article does not suggest that they can replace the basic responsibilities that should be borne by the Sudanese government, the warring parties, international diplomatic actors, and institutional aid actors charged with serving and protecting civilians caught in the crossfire and in the sights of the Sudanese Armed Forces, the Rapid Support Forces, and other armed groups and militias. Nor should this article be read as suggesting that these efforts, despite their impressive importance, succeeded in preventing immense loss of life, displacement, flight across borders, and the vast destruction of private and public property and infrastructure.

Leaving that caution aside, it remains important to try to understand and learn from what Sudanese citizens have achieved together, often against the odds and in the absence of any other support. Even if many external aid actors continue to downplay voluntary mutual-aid responses, it is essential to show and celebrate a Sudan radically different from the Sudan embodied by the warring parties: a Sudan full of compassion, solidarity, and humanity.

We are a volunteer group of residents of Khartoum 2 who decided to help evacuate families from the Khartoum 2 area, where the situation has become extremely dangerous.

(Tweet dated April 22, 2023, @K1K2Committee) A diverse range of actors

Who are the most important aid providers in Sudan today? Before April 15, the usual answer to that question might have looked like this, with some variation in emphasis depending on whom you asked: local, national, and international nongovernmental organizations and agencies supported by international donors.

The answer to the same question today would look like this, in no order of priority:

Hundreds of thousands of citizens carrying out or contributing to individual and scattered acts of mutual aid, including hosting very large numbers of the 4.4 million people, at the time of writing, inside Sudan.

Grassroots neighborhood committees and established emergency rooms, alongside other organized grassroots groups, youth, religious groups, women’s groups, elders and traditional leaders, and kinship groups across Sudan.

Medical staff and other professionals and support workers in critical institutions and infrastructure, health, energy, water, telephone and internet, journalists and citizen journalists, lawyers, drivers, and traders, individually and through professional associations.

Local and national nongovernmental organizations, alongside the remaining staff of international aid actors.

Diaspora groups supporting aid efforts and leading crowdfunding and crowdsourcing.

International agencies, international NGOs, UN agencies, the International Committee of the Red Cross, and donor representatives.

It is difficult to grasp the scale of the threats and challenges facing the ordinary Sudanese citizen in many parts of the country: direct threats such as targeted killing and violence, including rape and other forms of gender-based violence, as well as more indiscriminate violence, looting, artillery shelling, gunfire, grenades, and airstrikes. Interruptions to electricity, water, phone service, internet, and banking, both digital and physical, together with shortages of food, or safe access to it, or money to buy it, essential medicines, and medical supplies, imposed severe restrictions on access to doctors, nurses, midwives, clinics, and hospitals. The movement of people and goods was paralyzed in life-threatening ways, government-run services stalled, and there was no reliable official information, for example, about safe corridors for the millions who fled. The list of threats and challenges seems endless.

Guys, does anyone know what can be done if you come across a grenade in Sudan? My family found a grenade inside the gate of the house that has not yet exploded, and they do not know what to do about it.

(Tweet, April 24, 2023, @380rel)(تغريدة، 24 أبريل/ نيسان 2023، 380rel@)

Likewise, any attempt to list the organized and spontaneous efforts by ordinary Sudanese to address or alleviate some of these threats and challenges can offer only a glimpse of an exceedingly complex and difficult-to-comprehend reality. Providing basic necessities, at great risk, to children and adults trapped for days, weeks, and months in intense fighting, as well as in shorter or longer displacement; evacuating individuals and groups wherever possible. Crowdsourcing and providing medicines and basic medical supplies within isolated areas or across longer distances; rescuing the sick and wounded and transporting them to the few functioning hospitals or to mobile clinics where medical staff try to continue their work. Communities support technicians who have struggled for months to restore and maintain limited access to power, water, telephone, and internet services.

I stopped at a pharmacy earlier to buy some medicine, and the banking app was down when I came to pay. Many other people also could not pay, so the pharmacist refused to take the medicines back from customers and wrote the account number plus the amount on their bags so they could pay when the service returned. Humanity at its finest.

(Tweet dated July 3, 2023, @hiba_morgan)(تغريدة بتاريخ 3 يوليو / تموز 2023، hiba_morgan@)

The multiplicity of individual acts of kindness defies any attempt at quantification. As with much of the mutual aid we witnessed globally during the Covid-19 pandemic, collecting examples from sources on the ground, social media, and mainstream media can provide only anecdotal evidence of basic acts of humanity and solidarity; yet the sheer volume of anecdotal evidence of collective and individual acts of solidarity and assistance suggests that the scale of these efforts easily surpassed that of institutional humanitarian aid, at least during the first months of the crisis. During those first months, however, locally made efforts received almost no funding from the existing humanitarian system. Instead, donors directed their funding largely toward traditional international agencies.

Crowdsourcing knowledge and resources was central to many of these efforts. Using WhatsApp, Twitter/X, Facebook/Messenger, YouTube, and Instagram, alongside word of mouth, people exchanged information on everything from contacts for local resistance committees and emergency response rooms, options for accessing and transferring money internally and from abroad, coordination among small-scale journeys by individuals and families or large-scale escapes, intelligence on safe and unsafe roads, contacts for reliable drivers and buses, bus-ticket prices, visas or “facilitation money” needed to cross borders, collective searches for missing people, the availability of guidance for dealing with rape cases and unexploded ordnance, and contacts for safer passage out of the country for members of the LGBTQI+ community, as well as clinics and hospitals still operating, or information about fuel, spare parts, markets, water points, and pharmacies still open.

ALMEES, for the protection of the rights of minorities and lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and intersex people in northern and southern Sudan and elsewhere, will organize free buses from Khartoum to Egypt for the queer community.

(Tweet dated May 15, 2023, @mujj_ja)(تغريدة بتاريخ 15 مايو / أيار 2023، mujj_ja@)

Long as it is, this list includes only a few simple examples of responses dealing with immediate physical and medical challenges and threats. Add to that attempts to negotiate local truces, ceasefires, and safe passages by local activists, clerics, and other civilian leaders in their areas, whether in a neighborhood, a larger city such as El Fasher or Nyala, or the contested parts of South Kordofan. Often these efforts may be temporary and short-lived, but in some cases they are strong enough to preserve relative peace in towns and major areas for weeks and sometimes months. In South Kordofan, years of local-level conflict-transformation efforts helped keep safe passage open for several months, allowing around 150,000 people to move across front lines and reach relative safety in the Nuba Mountains. Efforts to secure such geographically limited truces, zones, and safe corridors have been led by small groups of traditional leaders, appointed officials, local NGO workers, religious leaders, young people, and other activists. A common feature is the way individuals and groups made the most of ties based on family, personal, commercial, political, ethnic, or religious connections to appeal to shared interests, but also to more “selfish” and individual benefits, such as the continuation of trade and other business interests. Another feature these efforts seem to share is that they held for a time, weeks or months, before ultimately yielding to growing polarization and aggression by the warring parties.

Another set of actions also deserves attention: speaking out publicly against the war and the atrocities being committed. Mobilizing information, contacts, and alignment around core messages has been highly important in this context, as activists across Sudan have highlighted the most brutal acts and the oral or written statements issued by the warring parties. Using WhatsApp groups, activists inside and outside Sudan work together in real time to build a consistent, decentralized, and repeated advocacy campaign aimed both internally and externally: calling for an end to the war, respect for civilian life and infrastructure, humanitarian access, and more aid through local actors. As diplomatic talks began in Jeddah and other regional capitals, these voices increasingly warned international actors of the danger of granting credibility and greater authority to the very men causing the current ruin, destruction, and killing, while further weakening and silencing the civilian actors trying to deliver help and assistance to those in need.

Apart from carrying out more traditional advocacy and political activities directed toward domestic and external power holders, Sudanese artists, inside the country and abroad, are collaborating under banners such as “More than 40 days have passed and Sunday never came,” using their creativity, skill, talent, and networks to share, through music, painting, and poetry, their anger, loss, and frustration, but also their longing and love for the homes and lives lost in the war.

Two things the Sudanese people can never stop making, not even war can stop them: music and protests. A rehearsal by a group of musicians, some of whom fled Khartoum, with local artists in Wad Madani.

(Tweet dated August 20, 2023, @ahmadz249)(تغريدة بتاريخ 20 أغسطس/آب 2023، ahmadz249@)

Box 1: Types of mutual-aid responsesالمربع 1: أنواع استجابات المساعدة المتبادلة

Crowdsourcing updated, real-time information on food, water, and other necessities, access and availability by location.

Groups of volunteers, individuals, and families provide food, water, and basic shelter for hundreds of thousands, millions?, of people on the move or trapped in fighting areas, from individuals and families sharing what they have to semi-organized groups, Sudanese emergency rooms, religious groups, professionals, youth, traditional leaders, and the private sector, supporting improvised internally displaced persons’ and refugee centers, schools, mosques, and churches, over weeks and months.

Using crowdsourcing and direct networks and structures to provide basic medical assistance, including securing access and supplies to improvised hospitals and clinics, and providing medical help, doctors, health workers, nurses, midwives, and psychologists, to populations deprived of access to services, either directly through visits by health specialists or remotely through telephone and internet consultations.

Sharing medicines and basic advice on their availability through social media, including information on contraception and post-rape exposure kits.

Volunteers supporting technicians to help restore and maintain water, electricity, telephone, and internet services.

Local peace committees, local leaders, elders, and kinship networks working to secure local truces and/or create safe passage across conflict lines for people fleeing, often in the short term, but in some cases for longer periods.

Crowdsourcing and exchanging information, safety, contacts, and prices, on routes out of conflict areas.

Crowdsourcing and exchanging information, safety, contacts, and prices, at borders and front-line crossings, including warnings about unsafe roads, Sudanese Armed Forces and Rapid Support Forces checkpoints, and so on.

Using social media and emergency-room contacts to request help with evacuation or obtaining basic supplies for especially vulnerable individuals and groups.

Searching for the missing, the “disappeared,” the arrested, those illegally detained, and the dead, and publicly demanding their release.

Using social media, digital networks, and diaspora groups to demand ceasefires, safe passages, and aid delivery, and to insist on the need to include civilians when international actors, diplomats and humanitarians, engage the parties to the conflict in negotiations.

Using social media and direct contacts to brief journalists and opinion makers inside and outside Sudan on important messages, as well as to alert correspondents, researchers, and opinion makers to events as they happen.

Using social media to mobilize opinion and exchange information about the availability of shelter, water, and food in general, or about what volunteer groups are providing in conflict-affected areas and areas to which people are fleeing.

Crowdsourcing information and awareness about unexploded ordnance.

Supporting the evacuation of queer people in Sudan and proposing safe transport options for those with valid passports and secure contacts in Egypt.

Crowdfunding in close cooperation with diaspora groups.

Do you have observations and examples from your own experience? Please share them with the writers of this article.

100,001 Responses: From Dongola to Nyala100,001 استجابة – من دنقلا إلى نيالا

“Traditional” humanitarian actors devote significant resources to measuring and reporting on the scope and impact of their activities, both as part of an ongoing process of learning from experience and because many donors expect and pay for it. When circumstances force thousands of volunteers to undertake responses that depend almost entirely on their own time, effort, and resources, there are no central systems and no dedicated staff standing ready to record the scale and impact of this voluntary, mutual assistance. Nor was this the first priority for those volunteers and activists when compared with using precious resources for direct responses and immediate action.

It is insane that we have to organize a mass evacuation through Twitter. It is a crime against humanity that people’s lives depend on online volunteers!!!!!! This is not normal.

Tweet dated April 21, 2023, @BSonblastتغريدة بتاريخ 21 أبريل/نيسان 2023، BSonblast@

One interesting aspect is that, so far, none of the traditional humanitarian coordination and tracking entities has taken it upon itself to track these efforts systematically and show their importance. From time to time, online updates by the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, OCHA, and ACAPS mention local partners and nongovernmental organizations, and it has been noted that the vast majority of displaced people are living with relatives and host communities. There have been some direct references to the work of emergency rooms and Sudanese resistance committees, but none of these brief entries attempts to describe these efforts in any detail, despite their scale, and certainly not on an equal footing with the detailed descriptions of the work of traditional, mostly external humanitarian actors and the constraints they face. Mainstream outlets such as The New Humanitarian, Shabaka, or the Emergency Rooms Coordination Unit provide far more depth and insight than OCHA and ACAPS have offered so far.

In addition to Sudan’s traditional civil-society and private-sector structures, a loosely connected network of emergency rooms has emerged across most of Sudan, many of them closely linked to the resistance committees that were instrumental in the ouster of Omar al-Bashir in April 2020 and in the continuing peaceful nationwide campaign against military rule.

Box 2: What Is an Emergency Room, ERR, in Their Own Wordsالمربع 2: ما هي غرفة الطوارئ (ERR) – نقلاً عنهم

“Khartoum State’s emergency rooms, through work in hospitals, neighborhood clinics, community soup kitchens, psychosocial response-room programs for women, and evacuation assistance, have helped ease some of the burdens on those who decided to remain in the capital despite the ongoing war and on those who need to leave. The emergency rooms seek to provide daily meals for families and to help pregnant women and people with chronic illnesses such as diabetes and high blood pressure. The primary role of the emergency rooms is to ensure the continued availability of basic services, especially water and electricity, by providing logistical support to workers.”

“Our ability to run daily community soup kitchens and neighborhood clinics has increased community participation in mutual aid, with the entire neighborhood taking part in work at the clinic, the kitchen, cleaning operations, service maintenance, or neighborhood protection. It is astonishing how many ideas and dreams we hear every day in the community soup kitchens and across the neighborhood, and how easy the discussions are, even around contentious issues such as racism and women’s rights. It is also beautiful to see the participation of people who did not think they could be part of any major discussions because they had always been like outsiders because of their class or ethnicity. Most important is that we all have the same voice and the same interest in hearing others’ ideas and making room for our differences and tolerating them.”

Emergency rooms or other grassroots and voluntary groups have been established in towns and cities across Sudan. In Greater Khartoum, nearly seventy emergency rooms were reported to be operating by August 2023, many of them with offices and other specialized units. Dr. Adam Madibo of the Sudan Social Development Organization, SUDO, explains, speaking from Khartoum: “These emergency response rooms are available whenever need requires. In every state and city across Sudan where there is a need, there is a response room. The same is true in Darfur. Some of these rooms are more permanent and stable, and some have become smaller, as in parts of Khartoum where many have fled, or in Darfur, where many response rooms are forced to move because of the fighting.”

Emergency rooms differ from one another, and none accepts hierarchical structures; each responds in its own way as needs and opportunities evolve and as its operating environment changes. As such, the following examples serve as illustrations, but should be read as anecdotal and not necessarily representative of every emergency room.

In southern Khartoum city, which is hosting a large number of displaced people, a group of volunteers supports thirty-five displaced families, 315 individuals, staying in a school. The group’s objectives are: “to provide the food necessary for life, and to meet urgent needs, including protection, safety, inclusiveness, and social cohesion for internally displaced persons.” The volunteers range in age from nineteen to thirty-three, and their cooperation is based on their having been part of a local resistance committee since 2019.

In the neighborhood of al-Jireif West in Khartoum, a local women’s response room holds activities for women and children centered on a shared soup kitchen. Apart from organizing collective meals, the soup kitchen, on the basis of voluntary contributions, the groups host children’s activities aimed at confronting the psychological trauma caused by ongoing fighting in or around the neighborhood, a trauma compounded by the total collapse of the state and by the closure of kindergartens and schools. The children’s activities include art sessions, games, and planting. Around these activities, deeper discussions about trauma, loss, racism, hopes, and fears take place with the children and their mothers.

The efforts of doctors, nurses, midwives, and other medical personnel, in close cooperation with the ERRs, have often been decisive in preserving a minimum of health services, even in the worst-affected parts of Sudan. With many medical workers fleeing the country or displaced, a large number remain at work, even if many have been forced to move to different, safer locations. Like many of their colleagues in the emergency rooms, health professionals work under extremely difficult and dangerous conditions because of the general risks of fighting, but also because of direct threats, targeted killings, and other forms of violence committed by armed parties. Despite this, thousands of patients have received treatment. Doctors, nurses, midwives, trauma counselors, and psychologists, from inside and outside the country, also volunteer their time to support individuals remotely by phone and internet.

Water is critical in a conflict zone with many wounded people and temperatures that, for most of the year, average 40 degrees Celsius by day and 30 degrees Celsius by night. An important role played by emergency-room volunteers and cooperating NGOs is helping technicians reach, repair, and maintain critical infrastructure such as water stations and distribution systems. Volunteers and local businesspeople provide spare parts and organize community food contributions so that technicians can keep working despite the collapse of government. In Greater Khartoum, these efforts helped restore water infrastructure, electricity networks, and telephone and internet facilities. They may have supported hundreds of thousands of people with life-saving and life-sustaining services and supplies. Most of these professionals, doctors, nurses, midwives, and technicians, have not received regular salaries for months. Most government and international salary payments stopped in April, and many private-sector employees lost their salaries in May or June. Staff in many NGOs have also gone unpaid.

Traders, transporters, and vendors have played a crucial role, even if their efforts do not qualify as mutual aid. Shopkeepers, vegetable sellers at their stalls or on brightly colored tuk-tuks around the city, young men driving donkey carts with water tanks, drivers and assistants transporting flour, sugar, and soap by the ton: all expose themselves to danger as they navigate fighting, roadblocks, random violence, and theft to bring basic goods to people. Yet some traders and private-sector businesspeople have exploited shortages and disrupted supply lines to raise prices sharply and/or withhold goods and services from the market, hoping to benefit from further price increases in the weeks or months ahead.

Revolution, coup, corona, war. The Sudanese vegetable seller does not stop.

(Tweet dated April 18, 2023, @Sudan_tweet, also including a video) Coordinating a thousand initiatives?

Coordinating such a large number of spontaneous, constantly evolving responses will always be difficult. Indeed, doing so partly contradicts the very nature of such efforts, and may even be counterproductive for some. Many of these responses are opportunistic, short-term, and spontaneous, and should be valued and appreciated as such. Humanitarian professionals need to understand that for an action to matter and perhaps save lives, it does not have to be planned, monitored, or evaluated, or comply with professional standards and compliance regulations.

Nonetheless, major NGOs and mutual-aid responders working in the same physical areas have repeatedly managed to coordinate complex tasks such as securing knowledge, spare parts, fuel, transport, and evasion of roadblocks and fighting in order to restore water supplies, or to support health professionals in keeping basic services running, relying on trusted personal networks, many of them established through years of civil protest against various expressions of military rule, and using a mixture of digital and direct communication. Likewise, coordination is under way in an effort to ensure initial support for internally displaced people across the country. Cooperation among friends and colleagues locally, nationally, and abroad has ensured basic contacts, dialogue, and knowledge exchange among emergency rooms, local NGOs, civil-society groups, religious, youth, women’s, and diaspora groups, as well as a few international aid actors. With one foot inside Sudan and one outside, initiatives such as Khartoum Emergency Room and a network connect local aid actors, diaspora groups, and international actors. Other local NGOs, community-based organizations, emergency-room officials, and mutual-aid volunteers coordinate directly among themselves, while also sharing assessments, gap analyses, and funding opportunities with international actors.

Complicating coordination is the fact that local and national entities, including what remains of the government’s Humanitarian Aid Commission and an emerging entity for areas controlled by the Rapid Support Forces, are increasingly trying to control, manipulate, harass, or obstruct local voluntary aid initiatives. Targeted killings and harassment of mutual-aid activists, doctors, and other volunteers by the warring parties have also forced coordination partly underground. Nor are the emerging locally led coordination efforts helped by the fact that some leading international actors in coordination, funding, and diplomacy are, at least for now, holding back their support.

Efforts by local, national, and international nongovernmental organizations and agencies

Staff of many Sudanese NGOs have continued to provide assistance and services alongside, and in some cases in close cooperation with, voluntary and mutual aid, even though at least nineteen humanitarian workers have been killed since April and a very large number of warehouses, cars, and offices have been looted, confiscated, or destroyed by the warring parties. In some cases, Sudanese agencies and NGOs and some international agencies and NGOs have been able to continue activities originally supported by international donors before April 15, but now have the flexibility to meet needs in response to fluctuations in patterns of fighting, access, and displacement. Some international NGOs and UN agencies have supported national staff where they were able to continue their efforts, while most foreign staff left the country or were evacuated to the relative safety of Port Sudan. From relatively early in the response, a limited number of traditional humanitarian actors explored ways to support emergency rooms and other voluntary efforts, and in some cases found such ways. Traditional aid efforts by national and international humanitarian actors also remain critical, and have gradually expanded since the first weeks and months of the crisis, but assessing the impact of international assistance lies beyond the scope of this article.

Crowdfunding and remittancesالتمويل الجماعي والتحويلات المالية

…the essay continues at the source.

Y done · S save · G great · B bad · N not for me