The land pregnant with wishes

On this day, March 26, 2025,

the Sudanese Armed Forces entered my area to liberate it from the filth of the militia, after more than a year and a half of occupation. I still leave my country, wrapped in fear and anxiety,

with only a few belongings. My crippled mother is in one hand, my little ones are in the other, my brothers are in one hand,

my husband is in the other, my worries are in one hand, and my neighbors are in the other. The pain still overwhelms me at the mere thought of leaving my place of birth,

my most beautiful destiny, my most wonderful home, my small garden, neem and lemon trees,

and their shade that covers the entire area. The trees planted by my father, may God have mercy on him,

and my brothers to make the house God's paradise on earth, before it was even built many years ago. How can I leave the company of the neighborhood? When I wrap myself in my small, patterned robe, shyly hiding my flying locks, I hurry out to give my neighbor a plate of food. His bite is hot

Just before breakfast

When I can't find anyone to bring me my dinner loaf

So I have to send my neighbor's seventeen-year-old son to ride his bike and bring it to me.

When my mother suddenly falls ill in the dead of night, I call on my neighbors

Boys, men and women, to go to the hospital on the outskirts of the city and return at dawn.

The streets of my newspaper, which I get angry at because they have no drainage, so I have to wade through the water

I don't know what's more beautiful: my body, exhausted from fatigue

Or the computer that contains my news that must be delivered to the editor-in-chief by the specified time

Do I fear for my elegant clothes and makeup like a woman

Or do I fear for my real and wonderful news, which I craft with great passion and love

Until I've become a reference for writers. A modern news story

How can I forget my rush between the Republican Palace, the Council of Ministers, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to catch a press conference for the Prime Minister

or the President of the Republic

when a foreign delegation visited?

My rush to cover the presence of a head of state, only to find the newspaper's coverage vehicle ready, so I grabbed my camera and rushed to the palace, not caring about anything except getting a scoop.

It makes me the talk of the morning newspapers.

The palace itself was ravaged by the militia, exhausting its walls and ceilings.

Nile Street, which we exhausted ourselves with our back-and-forth.

The luxurious restaurants.

The Kuwaiti building where I film my reports for one of the channels and broadcast them via Sudan TV satellite.

Here is my hope in God rising

and becoming a reality

and my capital, Khartoum, being liberated

Here is dawn finally rising on the nests of the birds I raised and that abandoned their nests for a long time

Here is the night departing

and the sun of life rises on the earth pregnant with joy and hopes