Amina Ibrahim: Using Henna to Amplify Sudan’s Humanitarian Crisis”

When Amina Ibrahim arrived at Drexel University for her freshman year, she expected to study, build friendships, and adjust to life in Philadelphia. What she did not expect was that a simple henna cone — handed to her during an iftar gathering — would become the defining symbol of her activism, her grief, and her unwavering connection to Sudan.

What began as a creative experiment slowly evolved into a movement. With every line she drew, every palm she decorated, and every story she shared, Amina discovered a powerful way to merge cultural pride with political resistance.

A Cultural Art Form That Became a Lifeline

Henna has always been deeply intertwined with Sudanese identity — an art used in weddings, births, holidays, and life milestones. Known locally as sibgha, its deep reddish tone is traditionally mixed with natural additives to create the perfect stain. Brides are adorned with intricate designs that speak of joy and heritage; grooms receive a modest circle on their palm, symbolizing blessed union.

For Amina, henna was woven into her childhood memories. But at Drexel, it transformed from a family ritual into a bridge between two worlds: her life as a student in the U.S. and her roots in a homeland engulfed in tragedy.

Using both traditional henna and jagua ink, she began hosting events where artistry became conversation — an opening for students to learn about the war in Sudan and the suffering it has unleashed.

“I never imagined henna could carry so much meaning,” she says. “It became a way for people to connect — not just to Sudan, but to each other.”

Sudan’s War and a Diaspora’s Pain

In April 2023, Sudan was thrown into a devastating war between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). The result has been what humanitarian observers now call the world’s worst humanitarian crisis, with 12 million displaced and tens of thousands killed.

Families are starving. Cities are emptied. Entire regions have fallen into famine.

For Amina, the crisis is deeply personal. Her own relatives were forced to flee, joining the more than one million Sudanese who now seek refuge in Egypt. Some members of her family remain separated by harsh border restrictions.

“My cousins haven’t hugged their mother in more than two years,” she explains. “They depend on video calls, and that breaks me.”

This loss — layered with fear, anger, and helplessness — pushed her to act.

Transforming Grief Into Advocacy

Amina decided that silence was no longer an option. She partnered with Drexel’s Muslim Student Association, African Student Association, and other campus organizations to create fundraising events centered around henna.

Her art sessions became informal teach-ins, where students waited for their designs while listening to Amina describe the war, the famine, the mass displacement, and the atrocities committed by armed groups.

“Protests matter,” she said, “but art has a different power. People remember stories when they’re literally drawn onto their hands.”

Her events raised financial support for Sudan and the Democratic Republic of Congo, while fostering a campus community more aware of global crises that often go ignored.

A Voice in the Streets of Philadelphia

Advocacy eventually took Amina beyond campus. During a rally and vigil at Philadelphia’s City Hall, she delivered a heartfelt speech demanding international attention to Sudan’s suffering and calling out the external powers — including the UAE — whose military and economic interests have worsened the war.

“I’m proud to be Sudanese,” she declared. “And I won’t allow anyone to paint Africa as helpless. Sudan is rich in culture, rich in its people, and rich in history. My people will not be forgotten.”

Her words resonated with Philadelphia’s Sudanese community and with African diaspora activists who recognized themselves in her determination.

Solidarity Across Borders

Although Sudan sits at the center of her advocacy, Amina insists that justice must extend to all oppressed communities.

“I’m Sudanese to the bone,” she says, “but I bleed for Palestine, Somalia, Nigeria, and Congo. Our struggles are linked.”

This worldview shapes her activism. To Amina, solidarity is not optional — it is necessary for liberation.

Keeping Culture Alive in a Time of War

As Sudan struggles through destruction, famine, and displacement, Amina sees her role as both an advocate and a cultural guardian. Henna is her way of ensuring that the vibrancy of Sudanese identity is not lost.

“My culture doesn’t die just because my people are suffering,” she says. “Every design I draw is a reminder: Sudan is still here.”

In her hands, henna is no longer just decoration. It is resistance. It is remembrance. It is a declaration that Sudan’s story — and its people — deserve to be seen.