I first crossed paths with Hamid Khalafallah in 2018 at the University of Bradford. He was preparing for his graduation, while I had just begun my master’s journey. Over the years, we shared office space, publications, conference rooms, and many good moments anchored in respect and mutual understanding.
Today, I find myself overwhelmed by the task before me: to write about Hamid, the hardworking, pragmatic, and morally consistent scholar who is no longer with us. The steadfast friend who was always there, ready to help, support, and give advice about everything. My sounding board and the one there to encourage, every step of the way. The witty friend who always managed to find optimism in the bleakest of situations. I am caught between the shock of loss that we all share, and a deep appreciation for the many good moments we were fortunate enough to experience with him.
He was a hardworking scholar.
To speak of Hamid is first to speak of his commitment to knowledge and intellectual rigor. Between 2020 and 2026, he published numerous articles, papers, and opinion pieces about Sudan, on subjects ranging from governance and grassroots mobilization to constitutionalism.
His academic excellence was recognized early on. In 2019, he received the Development Studies Association award for the best dissertation on development in the UK. He also received the prize for the best overall academic performance in the master’s program in the Peace Studies and International Development Department at the University of Bradford, where he studied as a Chevening scholar. Perhaps this is why the outpouring of grief and respect from the many institutions that knew him has been so moving. From the University of Bradford, the European University Institute, to the University of Manchester, where he most recently studied, heartfelt condolences have reflected the impact he left on colleagues, students, and friends alike.
He was a pragmatic activist.
Yet Hamid never separated scholarship from action. I mourn a man who constantly balanced knowledge with practice. Between classrooms and writing assignments, Hamid marched for democracy, equality, and for the recognition of atrocities taking place across our world.
That commitment was evident from the very beginning. As soon as he received his degree in December 2018, Hamid was determined to immediately return to Sudan to join the revolution that had spread across the country, and would eventually lead to the fall of the Bashir regime on April 11, 2019.
Ironically, Hamid was arrested on April 10 and never witnessed that historic moment alongside everyone else. Friends used to joke that he was the fallen regime’s last detainee.
Hamid believed that none of us is truly free until all of us are
But Hamid’s sense of justice was never confined by borders. Because he believed that none of us is truly free until all of us are, he also marched against the genocide in Gaza, the exploitation of resources in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and unjust migration laws. I often joked with him that apparently we did not have enough issues to protest in our own country.
This same commitment shaped his professional life. Hamid worked with various institutions supporting democratic transition efforts in Sudan and beyond.
He used to joke, “why do you keep following me?” because our professional paths kept on crossing. We both went to Bradford, him right before me. He joined the British Council, so did I. He went to the European University Institute in Italy, I did too. Hamid and I were both nonresident fellows at the Tahrir Institute for Middle East Policy. He joined the institute in 2022, and focused on inclusive governance and mobilization in Sudan. I joined the program two years later.
In their tribute, the TIMEP family wrote: “Hamid remained relentless in his mission to build the Sudan that the Sudanese people deserved. He created shared ground, he cultivated community, and he forged lasting friendships across borders. He lit every room he walked into with the brightest smile and the most contagious energy. He was the true personification of regional solidarity. He never stopped fighting.”
And he never stopped: Hamid advocated fiercely for his beloved Sudan. Meeting rooms and conversations with government officials across Africa, Europe, and the United States stand as testaments to the clarity, courage, and conviction with which he spoke.
I remember one recent meeting in particular. An attendee accused civil society actors of being “cute advocates” who move from one country to another, avoiding political issues and speaking only about humanitarian concerns and human rights. Hamid’s response captured exactly who he was. He said that yes, we speak often about the humanitarian situation, but only because politicians consistently fail to give even the bare minimum attention to the suffering of the Sudanese people.
Through all of this, Hamid did not waver. He empathized with the suffering of all Sudanese people. He remained steadfast and true to his belief in a democratic Sudan
He was a person rooted in his values.
Beyond his intellect and activism, what made Hamid truly remarkable was his moral consistency.
Since the outbreak of war in April 2023, and indeed long before that, many of us have struggled to remain true to our principles. We have seen people we once admired openly cheer for warring parties. We have seen those who marched beside us during the revolution take up arms and justify killings, rape, and the destruction of our social fabric. We have watched chants of solidarity give way to rhetoric rooted in racism and otherness. Yet through all of this, Hamid did not waver. He empathized with the suffering of all Sudanese people. He remained steadfast and true to his belief in a democratic Sudan.
And despite all his achievements, Hamid never lost sight of what mattered most to him. He always kept his priorities right: his loving mother, his father and sisters, his family, friends, and his principles. He was also deeply aware of his background and of where he stood in the world.
I remember one conversation we had about privilege and the luxury of access and exposure. Hamid knew he was born into privilege, yet he constantly worked to use his networks and social protection to support others. Over the years, I never once heard him use his family name to seek special treatment. In fact, many of his online followers only learned about his family’s history after he passed away.
As I mourn, I also find solace in the many words that have been written about him, in the lives he touched, and in the memories he left behind
With all that has been said, I may have painted the image of an extraordinary person—someone distant and difficult to relate to. But the truth is, Hamid would have passed as an ordinary Sudanese person: someone with hopes, fears, humor, and dreams, like the rest of us. And perhaps that is what makes this loss heavier still. As I mourn, I also find solace in the many words that have been written about him, in the lives he touched, and in the memories he left behind.
For many of us who were lucky to call Hamid a friend, what we will miss most is the everyday Hamid—his cynical humor, his unwavering support, and his immense kindness. I will especially miss how, whenever called upon, he would immediately step in to help solve whatever issue was at hand, all while making a salty joke about one’s struggle.
One year after the start of the war Hamid wrote:
“One year on and I continue to feel uprooted, struggling to establish a new life, while I continue dreaming about returning home. When we were packing to flee, I thought that we would be returning in a few weeks or so. […]
Somewhere, deep inside, I felt like I was saying goodbye. It was all incredibly overwhelming, but it was quick. There was no time for emotions, the RSF were taking over the neighborhoods around us and our turn was imminent. I packed what I packed and left. I left behind my favorite watch, a gift from my late grandfather. I left behind photographs, gifts, souvenirs from loved ones. I left behind my paintings. I left behind my life. I left behind my roots.”
Hamid passed on in Johannesburg, far away from those who loved him so dearly. Still, I find comfort in knowing that he is back in his beloved Khartoum. After three years of longing, he is finally home.
Jawhratelkmal Kanu is a former Nonresident Fellow at TIMEP focusing on economy and conflict in Sudan.