After an exemption that lasted eight months, the Ethiopian authorities are once again demanding monthly visa fees from Sudanese refugees. Most cannot pay the colossal sums demanded of them in the event of a delay.
The little boy dressed all in yellow cannot sit still in the cramped hotel room he has shared with his parents for almost two years. Before the start of the war on 15 April, 2023, Sitalnefoor Hassan and Ibrahim Ahmed lived in the Jebra neighbourhood, southwest of Khartoum. “From the first days, the fighting was very intense in Jebra, so we left. We crossed the Ethiopian border on 20 April and then reached Addis Ababa after three days on the bus,” details the ex-saleswoman for a telephone operator. At the border post, the couple paid $160, or $80 each – their son was then exempt from a visa. “We haven’t paid anything since,” recognises Sitalnefoor Hassan with a tense laugh.
The trio is in fact in an irregular situation. After exempting Sudanese from visas between 2 February and 30 September, 2024, the Ethiopian authorities have again demanded, since October, 100 dollars monthly to extend their right of residence. The lack of an official announcement forced those who wanted to leave the country to pay exorbitant fines.
More fees
In November, when he wanted to leave Ethiopia to go to Uganda to attend a workshop organised by his NGO, the Sudanese Youth Network, Mohanad Orabi had to pay $560. “I demanded to see the director of immigration services. I asked him to show me the document mentioning this new directive. He told me that there was no document and that he was only doing his job,” Orabi told Ayin.
As the months go by, the bill gets bigger. “At the end of January we will have to pay $2,400,” says Omar Adam. This dynamic sixty-year-old, who wears a blue down jacket over his white jellaba despite the warmth of this early afternoon, never separates from his wallet, which contains two precious documents. Printed on A4 sheets, the visas allowing him and his wife, Magboula Idris, to go and reunite with their daughters in Saudi Arabia. “Everything is ready; we can leave in two days,” assures Adam. “The problem is that we no longer have money to pay the fine demanded by immigration.” The fighting forced this fruit seller and this housewife to leave the el-Haj Yousif district, north of Khartoum. They then passed through Wad Medani, 200 km to the south, where Magboula Idris had her right leg amputated because of her diabetes.
In Jeddah, she hopes to equip herself with a prosthesis to finally leave the wheelchair where she now spends her days. “In Ethiopia, medicines are very expensive. We spend between 2,500 and 3,000 birrs (between 20 and 24 dollars) every two weeks,” adds her husband, who waves to all the traders in Haya Hulet, the district in the centre of Addis Ababa where many Sudanese have found refuge. The fighting between the Sudanese Armed Forces of General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan and the Rapid Support Forces led by General Mohamed Hamdan Dagolo has thrown more than 11 million people into displacement.
The letter
Among them, 85,554 Sudanese have crossed the Ethiopian border. The security and humanitarian situation remains catastrophic in the refugee camps, particularly in the Amhara region, where the displaced find themselves amidst an armed conflict between federal troops and Fano militiamen. Some of the Sudanese refugees who managed to carry some savings before fleeing the conflict in Sudan prefer to return to the cities rather than eke it out in the refugee camps. Politician Ismail al-Taj, who is part of the Sudanese Assembly in Addis Ababa, a civil society group, estimates that 15,000 to 17,000 Sudanese live outside the camps.
The Sudanese Assembly issued a letter last November to the office of Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed to demand a return to exemption from visa fees. So far, the letter remains unanswered. “Representatives of the Ethiopian Ministry of Foreign Affairs assured the Sudanese that they have asked the immigration services to return to the exemption. But on the ground, it takes a long time to set up”, a diplomatic source based in Ethiopia told Ayin. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs did not respond to interview requests at the time of publication.
In the meantime, Sudanese people in Addis Ababa live in fear of being imprisoned. At least twelve Sudanese have been arrested in the Ethiopian capital since the beginning of February because their visas expired. Sitting on the floor of his narrow hotel room, Ibrahim Ahmed, the father of the intrepid little boy, limits his outings. “We are very afraid. We have no money, and we know many Sudanese who have been arrested by the police,” Ahmed said. Sudanese war survivors may be asked for $100 a month – $300 in case of delay – but most of them are not allowed to work in Ethiopia, where obtaining work permits as a foreign worker is a challenge.
“It’s like we’re in prison”
The equation in Ethiopia for Sudanese fleeing the war back home often seems insolvable. The luckiest receive help from their loved ones living abroad. Others rely only on themselves. This is the case of Nouar*. She brings bakhoor, perfumes, clothes and even shoes from Sudan, which she sells to her peers to pay off, little by little, the rent of the studio which accommodates her and her two toddlers. “I have no solution to pay the visa fees,” quips the young woman, who had to interrupt her medical studies because of the war. Her husband remained in Omdurman, fearing being accused of collaboration by the two camps clashing around his home.
When she crossed the border in August, the mother saw the hundreds of Sudanese refugees stuck in the forest after leaving the Kumer and Awlala camps, located in the Amhara region. “I’m stressing about the immigration services, knowing where we’re going to find the money, how to treat my son, who has epileptic seizures, and how to send him to school,” lists Sitalnefoor Hassan, the tenant of the modest hotel room.
Only once did the couple contact the Sudanese embassy. It was about the schooling of their little boy who will soon turn three. “They told us it costs $1,000 a year,” regrets the mother, who dreams of returning to work. “I only recently found out about the $300 penalty. But we didn’t come here to sightsee; we fled the war! Because of these fees, we can’t go anywhere. It’s like we’re in prison,” denounces Sitalnefoor Hassan.
Crédito: Link de origem