February 13, 2026

for my sisters who entered the Nile with open eyes

by Umniya Najaer

Sudanese author, scholar, and Mizna 25.2: Futurities contributor Umniya Najaer returns with a winding treatise tracing the vascular path of gender-based violence and genocide along the Sudanese Nile. As the counterrevolutionary war in Sudan nears its three-year mark, Najaer encourages readers to donate to the Sudan Solidarity Collective.

—Nour Eldin H., assistant editor

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sister is the river cold?

—Umniya Najaer

for my sisters who entered the Nile with open eyes

In October 2024, activists from El Gezira state in Sudan reported that 130 women and girls committed suicide to escape rape by the RSF militia. The UAE-backed RSF militia notoriously uses militarized rape and gang rape as a weapon of war in Sudan’s counter-revolutionary proxy war. In two years, the war has claimed tens of thousands of lives, displaced 11 million people, exposed 24 million to starvation, and left 14 million children without access to education. Given the dire humanitarian crisis, precise figures of those who experienced sexual violence, and those who entered the Nile, cannot be confirmed.

clouds gather

beneath   my    ribs

a flock a mass a sit-in

of primordial seeds

ready to split

& drench

the earth

my heart is

a carved

hillside in

the kingdom

of ancient lutes

a    river    of    doves

trills as my sisters

leap    into    the    Nile

on the new moon’s eve

dew bejewels the patient

weeds     with     its     trillion

g  l  i  s  t  e  n  i  n   g   e  y  e  s

the Nile – having swallowed

& sunk so many daughters

at the dead-end of choice

the impossible verdict

to become

autonomous

sediment

&

u                      e                      c

n          f                  n                   e

d

s

t          i                      p

s                             r       i

to

sever

life||body

my sisters

enter the

Nile and

journey

onwards

b l u s h i n g

t h e s k y

on route

to   the

beyond

beyond

some

one’s

c h i l d

alive  in

the breach

by    foot

by   field

by  rain

by   air

by sky

she

flees

the

men

only

to be

found

in the

verandah

overlooking

humanity

h e r   h e a r t

a   s   m   a   l   l

b   i r   d

a timeless sky

she scans the

e x p a n s e

for a sign of respite

a parcel of land

a branch to rest on

but the world

is landless

is water

  &

sky

with

nowhere

left   to go

not even a

wink of shade

for a sister

who weighs with

an ancient scale

death against rape

+/– spoiled harvests

+/–        cholera

+/–   thirst

+/– √ war

who was

the first

to plot

to enter

the Nile

limbs tied

to bricks

stones

logs

to weigh

the body

down

sister

is

the

river

cold?

who

was

the

first

to

stay

to

go

to ebb

to flow

sipping

river?

sister

who

will

you

let go

to enter

the Nile

with open

eyes to swallow

the   unknown

to   exhume

the w o r l d

b e y o n d

the world

of man

who is

l o s t

adrift be

wildered

& covered

in sky?

having

swallowed

too   much   life

the Earth is melancholic

for   the   time  before  nations

beforekingdoms,  beforesongs  –  when

I hear   you   joined   the   brides of the Nile

the    M e r m a i d s   of   K u s h  as  anchor   in

the   river   of   light   in   Africa’s   open   artery

it  is  as  if  we  are  one   waterlogged   body

in your absence  I  slip   &  fall  &  dent

the  world’s nadir—this  opaque

open  field  opens  only

for those who

scoured

the

end

of

b

e

i

n

g

to

will

myself

back to

l    if    e

i become

a cicada

i crawl

like a

horse

gutt

ed

by

l

i

g

h

t

n

i

n

g

i

climb

into the

trees &

c r o o n

y o u r

names

s i s t e r

come

back

to

me

come

watch

how

the

sky

st

utt

ers

as

the

m

o

o

n

’s

fur

gets

caught

in   twigs

come  let  us

adorn  the  soil

with  our  faces

and     taste

the dust

sister

have

you ever

wondered if

s i s t e r s

a r e  p o e m s

strewn  along

the   shore

of the world

&    glazed

with a sheath

of dancing

cells?

cells like

stars do

not   live   long

their dance is mortal

whereas the wind is

e  t  e  r  n  a  l  l  y

f o r m l e s s

unlike the

dervish

& the martyr

light does not grow

weary of ceaseless voyage

whereas war returns

repeats   itself

cloaked  in

feathers

sipping

tea

war

chars

the

tran

sie

ent

world

but love

after death

begins a life

of its own

h a b i b t i

who absolves

the tune

of our

despair?

whom does

the shape of

our suffering

hold? will

anyone

remember

to remember

the light

in the seat

of your soul

galloped like

the meteors

who leapt from

their first homes?

are the stars like us

born of love?

born of violation?

born of shattered

c h i l d h o o d

life arrives

miniscule

tender

a heart

beat

eru

pts

w  e

blink

& we

flicker

w  e

l i v e

a little

before

vanishing

s i  s t e r

can the story

of our species be

transcribed into

an alphabet of

twinkling

lights?

the rocks

the moths

the tyrants

each with

an undercoat

of synapses

this interior sky

of expiring substance

habibiti is it true

everything is forgotten

only to be repeated again?

is   it   true  humanity

departs  the  echo

chamber   of

blood only

to forget

when

we are

where

we are

who is

asleep

& who

if anyone

is awake

as the cold

night unfurls &

the hibiscus flowers

beside a dreaming

child anchored

to nothing

without

know

ledge

of death

where

does

the

spirit

go?

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