It had been just two and a half years since the
30-year Islamist dictatorship of Omar al Bashirfell in April 2019. The nation’s military-civilian
Sovereign Council was steering away from the
legacy of the accused war criminal and three darkdecades of repression, genocide, international
sanctions, and the secession of South Sudan.
But around noon on October 25, 2021, justweeks ahead of a planned transition to civilian
control, the future of the African nation tookanother turn. The chair of the Sovereign Council,
Lt. Gen. Abdel Fattah al Burhan, dissolved the
government and put the civilian prime ministerunder house arrest. The general called it a state
of emergency, but the Sudanese people recog-
nized it as a coup and turned out by the hun-dreds of thousands to protest in the country’s
capital, Khartoum, and beyond.As befits a 21st-century regime change, it all
played out in real time on social media, and I
watched raptly from my laptop half a worldaway. I had been following Sudan since before
ON A MONDAY
MORNING IN
LATE OCTOBER
OF LAST YEAR,
SUDAN’S LATEST
REVOLUTION
WAS CRUMBLING.
Fans of Sudanese
hip-hop artists attend
a music festival in
Khartoum after the
revolution loosened
Islamist restrictions
on pop culture and
dress, including mod-
ern hairstyles now
worn by many young
people in Sudan.The National
Geographic Society,
committed to illuminat-
ing and protecting the
wonder of our world,
supports Explorer and
photographer Nichole
Sobecki’s work in Africa.
ILLUSTRATION BY JOE MCKENDRY
