Salma Adam didn’t expect to smell basbousa baking in her kitchen this year. Just weeks ago, the 38-year-old mother of five had resigned herself to yet another Eid without celebration—without sweets, guests, or prayers. But this year, for the first time since Sudan’s civil war exploded into the streets of Khartoum, the scent of semolina and coconut treats and ghee-rich cookies filled her home in Omdurman.

The city she now calls home lies across the Nile from Khartoum: Omdurman is Sudan’s largest city and part of the capital’s urban triad, alongside Khartoum and Khartoum North.

“Eid is different this year,” Salma told TRT World, her face bright with cautious hope. “The war stole so many Eids from us. But today, the security situation is slightly better. We can celebrate without hearing bombs falling around us.”

Only recently, this would have been unthinkable. But as the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) captured Khartoum and forced the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) out of key areas of the capital,  including parts of Omdurman, a cautious sense of safety returned to neighbourhoods like Adam’s. Across the city, families seized the moment, to clean their homes, bake holiday sweets, and gather for Eid al-Fitr prayers.

Spring clean

Adam and her 16-year-old daughter, Anfal, scrubbed every corner of their home in the Thawra district of the city—a modest house where they fled two years ago after fighting engulfed their neighbourhood in Khartoum’s Ombada area.  

“Even during the worst days, we always tried to hold on to something,” Adam said. “But this year, we can do it properly. With people visiting, with laughter.”

The fighting broke out in April 2023 between the SAF under General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan and the RSF led by Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo known as Hemedti. What began as a power struggle between the country’s two most powerful military factions quickly spiralled into one of the world’s worst displacement and humanitarian crises. An estimated 12 million people have been displaced by the conflict—around nine million within Sudan and the rest fleeing to neighbouring countries.

While the RSF seized most of the capital early in the conflict, the SAF regained ground in recent months, pushing RSF fighters out of key areas, including parts of Omdurman. This shift has provided a fragile sense of security for families like Adam’s.

Prayers in open courtyards

On Sunday, Eid prayers were held in open courtyards and mosques in areas of Omdurman and Khartoum under SAF control—something not seen since the war began.

Hundreds gathered at the Rahman Mosque in Thawra, where men in crisp white jalabiyas, women in brightly coloured tobes, and children in new clothes stood side by side, raising their hands in prayer. “Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar,” echoed through the streets, a sound many had not heard in public gatherings since the start of the war.

Haroun Ahmed, Salma Adam’s husband, attended the prayers with their 14-year-old son, Ahmed. “I never thought I would see the mosques open like this again,” he said. “This is the first time in two years that we’re able to pray outside without fear.”

“Our celebrations today are twofold—one for Eid al-Fitr, and the other for the army’s gains in reclaiming our country and our lives,” he added.

Meanwhile, in an audio message on the Telegram app, Hemedti acknowledged that the RSF had retreated from parts of the capital while warning that the conflict was far from over.

Despite the SAF’s advances, large swathes of Khartoum remain contested, and the war is ongoing. Yet, for many Sudanese even temporary security has brought relief.

After prayers, worshippers embraced and exchanged greetings of “Eid Mubarak.” But there were also tears as people remembered loved ones lost to the war. Some visited cemeteries to recite prayers for those who did not live to see another Eid.

A glimpse of normalcy

Adam returned home to finish baking traditional Eid delicacies, like kahk and ghorayeba—cookies made especially for Eid. For two years, ingredients were either unavailable or too expensive because of the war. 

“The fighting had meant our access to cooking ingredients like ghee and flour was limited,” she said. “But ahead of Eid, markets were buzzing again. Merchants had returned, and commodities were more available, so we could finally bake what wasn’t possible before.”

Her husband, a fabric seller in Omdurman’s Sabreen market, said the days following the army’s recapture of the presidential palace saw hundreds of merchants who had fled to other cities like Port Sudan return with their goods. This created a surge in supplies and a drop in prices.

Their son Ahmed, wearing his new Eid clothes, spent the afternoon playing football in the neighbourhood streets once filled with gunfire. “Last year, we were too afraid to go outside,” he said. “Today, we’re playing again, just like before.”

Hope amid uncertainty

The war’s toll is still visible: bullet-scarred buildings, burned vehicles, entire blocks emptied of residents. And while the SAF has gained ground, the RSF remains entrenched in other parts of the capital and beyond.

Across the city, markets flickered with light, families gathered for meals, and conversations turned—inevitably—to the future.

“We’re celebrating today, but we don’t know what tomorrow holds,” Haroun Ahmed admitted. “We just pray that this will be the last Eid we spend under the shadow of war.”

He and his wife Salma Adam plan to visit displaced relatives the next day—some they haven’t seen in over a year.

But for now, amid the rubble and uncertainty, the scent of Eid returned to Omdurman. 

This piece was published in collaboration with Egab.