How a Sudanese University Kept Learning Alive During War

The civil war in Sudan began in April 2023, causing death, hunger, displacement and destruction on a huge scale. Gihad Ibrahim, head of e-learning and senior manager at Mashreq University in Sudan’s capital, Khartoum, spoke with The Conversation Africa about how his institution continued to educate thousands of students despite the destruction of its campuses during the ongoing conflict.

What was Mashreq University like before the war?

Mashreq University (established in 2003) was a thriving academic community of over 10,000 students across 10 faculties, including healthcare, engineering, information technology and business. We were known for innovation, being the first in Sudan to offer degrees in fields like artificial intelligence and mechatronics engineering. We ranked highly in both global and national rankings.

Our status as a private university allowed us agility in decision-making and investing in digital infrastructure early, a crucial factor in our later survival. However, our success was also rooted in operating within a national system that, before the war, permitted and accredited such innovation. This highlights a vital policy lesson: governments can foster resilience not by micromanaging, but by creating a regulatory environment that allows universities the autonomy to adapt and invest in their own futures.

Our main campus was in Khartoum North, a hub of student life.

While teaching was primarily in-person, we had already begun integrating online elements for some courses. This digital foundation, though modest, would later become our lifeline.

We established a learning management system back in 2013. When the COVID-19 pandemic struck in 2020, we were among the few Sudanese universities that could transition seamlessly online.

That crisis was a dress rehearsal; it forced us to build a system for blended learning that saved us when a far greater crisis emerged.

What happened when the fighting broke out in April 2023?

The war began on a Saturday morning – a normal teaching day. Students were already commuting. I remember I had a morning meeting with three female students working on their graduation project. I called one of them immediately and told her to warn the others and return home. Unfortunately, one didn’t get the message and was trapped near campus for two weeks – a harrowing reminder of the immediate human cost.

Our first priority was evacuation. But in those first chaotic hours, our information technology team performed a critical act: an emergency cloud backup of all academic records. It was a decision born of foresight, and it preserved the academic history of thousands.

Within weeks, our main campus was occupied by the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF). They looted laboratories and burned lecture halls. Because of the buildings’ height, they used them as military positions. Our campus was not just damaged; it was weaponised.

How did you keep teaching after such devastation?

Khartoum became a ghost city. With people fleeing in all directions – to other states or across borders to neighbouring countries like Egypt and Saudi Arabia – our university community scattered. The first step was to find them. We launched an online survey to locate our displaced students and staff.

Using that data, we established a network of “teaching centres” in safer locations. We created hubs in Port Sudan (after relocating from the city of Atbara), and internationally in Cairo (in Egypt), Jeddah (in Saudi Arabia), and a virtual campus in the United Arab Emirates (UAE). The UAE group was smaller, but because many students there held temporary “war victim” visas that restricted travel, we offered live virtual classes instead of physical ones.

How does this new teaching model work?

We had to be strategic. We categorised every course:

Non-applied courses (like many in business or theory) moved entirely online.
Applied courses (like lab sciences) were delivered face-to-face at the teaching centres.

Advanced specialised courses were taught live online to all centres simultaneously.

Consistency was key. Each course had a “lead lecturer” who coordinated content across all locations to ensure every student received the same quality. We partnered with local hospitals and factories for practical training, turning a constraint into an opportunity for real-world learning.

Exams were held online on university tablets, but invigilated in person at the centres to ensure integrity. The system was built on flexibility, but also on rigorous standards.

What lessons has Mashreq University learned?

We learned three profound lessons:

Technology is a lifeline. Our pre-war investment in digital infrastructure was what allowed us to survive.

Flexibility and compassion must replace rigid bureaucracy. We focused on the goal – education – not on the old rules.

Crisis can fuel innovation. Many students gained deeper, more relevant experience training in real hospitals and factories than they ever would in a simulated campus lab.

The most powerful moments have been the messages from graduates. They write to thank us, often noting that their peers at other universities are still waiting, their education frozen. One message captures it all:

You gave me my future back.

This reminds us that education is not a luxury; in times of war, it is a testament to normalcy, hope, and the future.

What comes next?

We have already begun refurbishing our main campus in Khartoum North, hoping to return soon. But the old model is gone for good.

This experience has taught us that education has no borders. It can reach anyone, anywhere, if guided by compassion and strategic purpose.

For universities everywhere, our story is a stark lesson: investing in resilient, flexible systems is not just about innovation; in today’s world, it is fundamentally about survival.

Gihad Ibrahim works as the Head of E-learning department at Mashreq University

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