“To the red sky,” I remember my father responding once after I asked where he was going. Having never heard of “the red sky” before, my 8-year-old self was intrigued. “Is it far? What do people do there? May I go with you?”
It turned out that “the red sky” is a common Sudanese phrase meaning “nowhere in particular,” or “it’s none of your concern,” or “I don’t want to say.” And no, he couldn’t bring a star back with him.
Recently I was admiring and photographing the reddish hues of a Midwestern sunset sky. It was a stark contrast to the current Khartoum skylines — which are red and gray and black from blazing fires.
It’s been two months since war broke out in Sudan. Instead of gazing at reddish skylines of ancient Nubian pyramids for inspiration while building a new nation after 30 years of dictatorship, Sudanese people are looking at fiery skylines of a capital besieged by constant conflict.
New horizons that people had so desperately hoped for have now receded. And “the red sky” has taken on an additional meaning.
Thowaiba Makki is a Sudanese American living in the Midwest. She’s a former mathematics educator and curriculum developer.