OBEID, Sudan — The first drone arrived around 3 a.m. on a March night, met immediately by antiaircraft fire that drummed through the city's blacked-out streets. More drones followed, forcing residents of the besieged city into round-the-clock shelter routines.
The Sudanese civil war has entered its fourth year with stagnating front lines giving way to intense drone campaigns. These attacks frequently target rear-guard cities after sunset. On that March night in Obeid, five drones struck. On a typical night, more than a dozen unmanned aerial vehicles hit targets across the city.
The conflict has killed well over 150,000 people, according to figures more than a year old. Some estimates suggest the death toll exceeds 450,000.
Drone strikes alone killed nearly 880 Sudanese civilians between January and April, according to the United Nations. UN rights chief Volker Turk said in April that drones are "far and away the leading cause of civilian deaths."
Both the Sudanese army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces deploy plane-like unmanned aerial vehicles and quadcopters. The increased use of drones has altered the traditional cycle of warfare. The rainy season, which typically runs from June through September, usually brings a lull in fighting. But Turk said increasing reliance on drones "allows hostilities to continue unabated" during this period.
Central Sudan's Kordofan region, comprising North, South, and West Kordofan states, is the epicenter of this drone-fueled combat. Obeid, the capital of North Kordofan, serves as a crucial logistics hub for the Sudanese army.
The incessant attacks force soldiers to splatter mud on their vehicles to obscure them from drone optics. Some drones drop bombs, others function as missiles, and some perform reconnaissance.
Though government troops broke the RSF's blockade of Obeid last year, militiamen maintain positions north, south, and east of the city. The highway leading to Khartoum, Obeid's sole supply route, remains a frequent target, marked by the charred wreckage of vehicles destroyed by drone strikes.
Near-daily drone barrages have imposed a furtive rhythm on residents' lives. Every trip to the market, school, health clinic, or a relative's home becomes a gamble under the constant threat from above. In peaceful times, Ramadan would typically see people gather in sidewalk restaurants and cafes after the daylong fast. In March, night attacks and the absence of street life have emptied public spaces.
