Hemedti's RSF Bombs Motorists Queuing for Fuel in Kordofan

They were waiting in line for petrol. Men behind the wheel of their cars, women waiting to fill a jerrycan for their families, children sitting in the back seats. On Tuesday, in Abbasiya, South Kordofan, a drone dove onto that filling station. At least ten people were killed or seriously wounded. Some had not even left their vehicles.

Ask yourself honestly. What kind of war chooses a filling station full of civilians as its target? The answer is not an accident of war. It is a strategy.

For more than three years, the Sudanese army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), the militia led by Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as "Hemedti," have been fighting across Sudanese soil. The conflict broke out in April 2023. It has already driven millions of Sudanese from their homes, plunged entire regions into famine, and killed tens of thousands, according to the most conservative estimates. The RSF grew out of the Janjaweed militias, the armed horsemen who ravaged Darfur in the early 2000s. They therefore carry a history of massacres. They have never been made to answer for those crimes before a court.

What is happening today in Kordofan follows a pattern we know all too well. In recent weeks, strikes on civilian infrastructure have multiplied: filling stations, power plants, fuel facilities. Observers agree on the objective. The aim is not to win a military position. It is to strangle entire cities, cut electricity to hospitals, make water impossible to pump, and turn every journey into a deadly gamble. A population deprived of fuel can neither flee, nor get medical care, nor feed itself. This is a siege weapon, used against civilians who have no role in the fighting.

Let us return to the facts. The drones used in this conflict do not fall from the sky. They are manufactured, purchased, transported, and maintained. Over the years, several UN Panel of Experts reports on Sudan have documented deliveries of weapons and military equipment to the RSF through third countries. The United Arab Emirates, named in these reports, denies any involvement. Those denials must be verified, not simply repeated. What is certain is that drones, munitions, and vehicles continue to fuel this war, and that civilians pay the price for every piece delivered.

We must also look squarely at the role of those profiting from this chaos. Foreign powers are competing for Sudanese gold, farmland, Red Sea ports, and geopolitical influence. Actors from the West, the Gulf, Turkey, Russia, and China are advancing their pieces, each with its own interests. Some preach democracy in African capitals, then sign arms or mining deals with warlords. The same people who speak of human rights look away when the weapons they sell are used to bomb queues of cars. We know the name of this method. It is the new scramble for Africa, with different uniforms and the same appetites.

And the African Union? It condemns, it expresses its "deep concern," it issues communiqués. Meanwhile, the dead keep piling up. A communiqué does not bring back a father killed at the pump. A declaration does not fill a tank for a hospital without electricity. Our continent has the texts. What it lacks is the courage to enforce them.

Yet Africa is not condemned to this. Botswana built its prosperity on strong institutions, an independent judiciary, and rigorous management of its mineral resources. Mauritius transformed a small island territory into a diversified, open economy grounded in the rule of law. Ghana and Senegal have shown that peaceful transfers of power are possible, even in tense contexts. These successes are not miracles. They are choices: clear rules, real checks on power, and citizens who demand accountability.

What must be done, concretely? First, enforce the arms embargo on Sudan, with real sanctions against any entity, intermediary, or state that feeds the war with drones and munitions. The UN Security Council must stop being satisfied with findings and publish the names of the suppliers. Second, the African Union and IGAD must demand a verifiable ceasefire, backed by an independent monitoring mechanism, and protect civilian infrastructure under a simple rule: any strike on a filling station, a power plant, or a market must trigger investigations and sanctions. Finally, the crimes must be prosecuted. The International Criminal Court has already been seized of Darfur. It is time for RSF commanders, like those in the army, to know that their impunity will end.

For us, African citizens, it also falls to us to refuse silence. We must demand that our governments vote, at the African Union and the United Nations, for sanctions rather than hollow motions. We must demand that our journalists name those responsible. We must demand that companies stop doing business with supply chains that lead to the drones of death. And we must demand that every foreign power apply to Africa the same principles it claims for itself.

The people queuing in Abbasiya wanted only to get home. They asked for neither war nor glory. They asked for fuel, a measure of dignity, and the right to live. If we accept that they can be bombed without consequence, then we accept that our own queues will become targets tomorrow. What is happening in Sudan is not a distant affair. It is a test for the entire continent. Will we finally say that the life of a civilian is not negotiable for the price of a drone?

Based on reporting by ACSS-EMAIL