More than a document: Refugee ID cards bring dignity and hope in Sudan
More than a document: Refugee ID cards bring dignity and hope in Sudan
A refugee woman holds out her ID card in Sudan's White Nile state.
In the muddy lanes of Khor Al-Waral refugee camp, rainwater gathers between rows of shelters, and the air is thick with the scent of wet earth. Under grey skies, South Sudanese men, women and youth wait patiently in line, holding worn slips of paper - for years the only proof of identity.
Among them are Mawada, Baba and Albino, waiting for something they have never held before: an ID card. Across Sudan, where conflict and economic collapse have disrupted institutions and eroded public services, registration and documentation are not administrative steps – they are life-saving forms of protection. Without proof of identity, refugees risk arrest, exploitation, family separation, and exclusion from essential services. A simple ID card can determine whether someone receives healthcare, reaches school safely, or crosses a checkpoint without fear.
Earlier this year, refugees in Sudan’s White Nile State finally began receiving official identification, marking a major step forward in their protection. The initiative, led by Sudan’s Commission for Refugees with support from UNHCR, the UN Refugee Agency, was transforming the daily life for some of the most vulnerable people in the country. White Nile State hosts around 340,000 South Sudanese refugees in 10 camps - the largest camp-based refugee population in Sudan - and estimated 30,000 South Sudanese are living in urban areas. Before ID cards were introduced, refugees relied on temporary photo slips that held little weight and offered limited access to services, leaving them constantly vulnerable.
“The journey from Malakal was very hard - I was exhausted on the road,” recalls Mawada, a 27-year-old mother of four who fled violence in South Sudan in 2016. For years, she struggled without proper documentation, but now holding her new ID card, she says: “Now I can do things on my own, like get a SIM card without asking for help. Life will be easier… We dream of the future, especially for our children. We hope for change.”
The new IDs do not only confirm legal identity. They unlock access to healthcare, education, and humanitarian assistance, and enable safe movement—fundamental rights that cannot be realized without documentation. They can also help secure jobs, housing, or bank accounts – though some institutions still request additional paperwork. Holding a recognized ID can mean the difference between safety and risk.
For Baba, 67, the card means freedom from fear of being stopped, questioned or denied access to services. “It’s official - now I can move freely without problems. I feel comfortable and happy,” he says. “This card is important - very important. It gives recognition and freedom.”
Albino, 26, who spent eight years in Sudan without documentation, agrees with Baba. “Without the card, young people couldn’t move freely - you had nothing to show,” he says. “Now I can move freely. It’s important for my future.”
The shift to biometric registration and formal ID issuance strengthens protection, prevents abuses, improves aid delivery, and ensures authorities and humanitarian partners can identify and support those most at risk. Despite major challenges – including floods that cut off seven of the ten camps during the rainy season – UNHCR and COR teams are pressing ahead to reach as many refugees as possible, prioritizing those aged 16 and above.
“When receiving these cards, they’re not just getting a piece of plastic. They’re receiving recognition and inclusion - something that can help them to build a brighter future.” says Rannie Mitchmael Cole, UNHCR's Associate Registration and Identity Management Officer.
Thanks to the support from the EU Humanitarian Aid (ECHO), more than 700 refugees in White Nile have already received their IDs, with thousands more prepared to be enrolled.
But this progress has been abruptly halted.
Since September 2025, refugee registration has been suspended by the Sudanese authorities across Sudan. This means newly arriving refugees and asylum-seekers - over 75,000 South Sudanese in 2025 alone - cannot be registered, cannot receive IDs, and therefore cannot access the protection and services they urgently need.
Without documentation, people remain invisible. They cannot prove who they are, where they come from, or access the services that allow them to survive. Suspension of registration leaves children unable to enroll in school, patients unable to reach hospitals, and families exposed to arrest or deportation.
This is why UNHCR continues to engage with the authorities at all levels, advocating for the immediate resumption of registration. This is not a technical exercise - it is a cornerstone of refugee protection, dignity, and safety.
Despite the war, Sudan continues to host nearly 860,000 refugees and asylum-seekers. Registration and documentation are essential for both refugees and new arrivals to access protection and life-saving services. In their absence, people are left without legal identity or protection at a time of heightened risk.