By Wan Muhammad Aslah Wan Razali
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 22 (Bernama) -- When Tengku Ain Tengku Abdullah first arrived in East Africa in 2019, she did not yet know how deeply the experience would carve itself into her memory.
Assigned under the MyCorps Africa programme with 43 other Malaysian volunteers, her mission took her through Kenya, but the stories and struggles she witnessed across the region would later mirror, almost perfectly, the humanitarian catastrophe now unfolding in Sudan.
For three months, the volunteers lived as the communities did, often relying on water from open reservoirs shared with livestock.
Nights passed without stable electricity. Days began early, with children walking barefoot over stone and dusty roads to reach makeshift classrooms under trees or inside tents on the verge of collapsing.
"It changed the way we saw the world. Many communities had almost nothing, and yet they still shared, still helped each other, still smiled," she told Bernama recently.
In one school she visited, nearly two dozen children crowded around a single worn-out Quran. Textbooks were torn, missing pages or completely absent. Many of the younger students wrote on reused pieces of wood or scraps of paper because proper exercise books did not exist.
Teachers taught voluntarily, sometimes without pay, for years. Families who had slightly more stable households would take in other families as domestic refugees.
The African spirit of takaful (mutual care and shared responsibility) was not merely spoken about; it was lived.
Though her placement was in Kenya, the conditions she observed reflected what many Sudanese communities were already facing at the time—and what millions more are enduring today at unprecedented levels.
Today, Sudan is the world's largest humanitarian crisis, with more than 11 million people displaced and millions of children at risk of hunger and disease.
Hospitals have collapsed, schools have been destroyed, and entire communities are living in makeshift shelters, open fields, or abandoned buildings, with many families surviving on just one meal every two or three days.
For Tengku Ain, now Communications Director at Malaysian Humanitarian Aid & Relief (MAHAR), the silence surrounding Sudan is one of the hardest truths to accept.
"Sudan is a crisis without cameras. And without cameras, there is no global outrage, no headlines, no pressure, no solidarity," she stressed.
International journalists can barely enter the country. In conflict zones such as Khartoum, Darfur and Kordofan, kidnappings and violence are routine, making media access nearly impossible. Without visuals and on-the-ground reporting, global attention fades.
On top of that, Sudan's war is complex, involving the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF), the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), and a patchwork of local militias and tribal histories.
To many outside Africa, the conflict is difficult to understand, and humanitarian fatigue has only deepened that disconnect.
"Because the world cannot see Sudan, the world does not feel Sudan," she said, adding that Sudan is truly "a crisis without cameras".
MAHAR is now working with local and international partners, including groups under the Ops Ihsan, to establish safe routes for emergency aid into Sudan.
The organisation has urged greater international attention and sustained support, noting that Sudan's suffering continues largely out of the global spotlight.
Discussions are ongoing as the security situation remains volatile, but the organisation remains committed.
MAHAR also continues its long-standing work in East Africa, including a collaboration with Nasyrul Quran for Quran waqf programmes, complete with Swahili translations, in remote areas of Kenya and other regions.
This ensures that assistance is not only physical but also educational and spiritual.
For Sudan, Tengku Ain said, the most urgent needs today include food, clean water, medical supplies, temporary shelters and education support for children who have lost years of schooling.
But just as crucial is global advocacy, the push to ensure Sudan is not forgotten.
"A crisis becomes invisible when no one speaks about it. For Malaysia, even a small voice can help," she said.
She added that while Sudan may seem distant to many, for those who have lived among the affected communities, the suffering feels painfully close—a humanitarian call that cannot be ignored.
Five years may have passed since Tengku Ain walked the dusty roads of East Africa, but the memories are as vivid as ever: the barefoot children, the teachers who never gave up, the communities who shared what little they had.
It is these memories, and the faces behind them, that drive her to speak up for Sudan today.
-- BERNAMA