Surviving in Sudan now means returning to the most basic forms of trade as the banking system lies in ruins after more than two years of war, forcing people to rely on barter and handwritten IOUs to secure food, fuel and other essentials.
“I haven’t held a banknote in more than nine months,” said Ali, a civil servant in Dilling, South Kordofan, a town besieged by the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), who have been fighting the army since April 2023.
Clothing, furniture and household items have become substitutes for currency.
“I once exchanged a hoe and a chair for three bags of sorghum,” the 33-year-old said.
With cash unavailable and communication systems down across much of the country, residents are improvising.
“Motorcycle and tuk-tuk drivers are given oil and soap as payment for fares,” said local volunteer Al-Sadiq Issa.
“Some families offer corn, flour, or sugar in exchange for things like vehicle maintenance.”
The collapse began in the early days of the war, when the Central Bank, connected to the SWIFT international banking system, was set ablaze during fighting and later occupied by RSF fighters for almost two years.
Banks were looted, safes emptied, and the currency spiralled into worthlessness. One euro, once 450 Sudanese pounds, now sells for 3,500 on the black market.
Before the conflict, Sudan appeared close to rejoining the global financial system after years of sanctions.
Just 15 percent of Sudanese people had bank accounts, but digital payments were expanding rapidly through the Bankak app operated by the Bank of Khartoum.
“Before the conflict began in 2023, Sudan’s financial sector was on the cusp of major transformation towards a more open market approach, similar to models in Kenya, Tanzania, and Ghana,” said William Cook of the Consultative Group to Assist the Poor.
Unfortunately, the conflict has halted much of this progress.”
The war has killed tens of thousands, displaced around 12 million people and plunged the country into what the UN calls the world’s largest hunger and displacement crises.
In many RSF-held areas, law and order have vanished, and looting is widespread.
“Having cash puts you in danger,” said grocer Dafallah Ibrahim in Omdurman.
For those living in army-held areas or with access to a secure internet connection, the Bankak app has become a lifeline, allowing people to receive salaries, international remittances and humanitarian aid.
But in cities trapped under RSF siege or total blackout, such as Kadugli, residents depend on informal networks.
Merchant Abdelrahman keeps a simple honour-system ledger. “I tell them ‘You can pay when Bankak works again’, and I put down their debts in a notebook,” he told AFP.
Wherever telecoms infrastructure collapsed, smuggled Starlink satellite internet antennas began appearing, often controlled by the RSF, and rented out by the hour.
The military banned their use in December 2024, but many remained in operation.
When the RSF controlled Khartoum, the paramilitary group “took up to 25 percent commission” to provide cash in exchange for a Bankak transfer, civil servant Youssef Ahmed recalled.
Even digital transactions require a bank account, passport and working phone, items many Sudanese no longer possess.
In rural areas, people rely on trusted neighbours to receive transfers on their behalf, but have no legal protection if that money disappears.
The Bank of Khartoum attempted to ease access by allowing remote account opening and the use of expired identity documents, yet fragmentation deepened when pro-army authorities introduced new banknotes in territories they controlled.
Sudan is now effectively split in two: army-controlled areas in the north, east and centre, and RSF-controlled regions across the west and south.
In this divided landscape, for millions of Sudanese, survival depends not on money, but on whatever they can trade, exchange or promise, and on the fragile trust that still holds their communities together.
