Loading ...Keeping Sudanese Folktales Alive in the Diaspora
By: Hana Baba / Arab America Contributing Writer
Growing up in the U.S. as a Sudani kid, like most diaspora kids, we lived with feet in two worlds.
At home, it was very Sudani- from the food to the smells of bakhoor, to the sounds of Sudani music and the Sudanese Arabic we spoke.
And I loved stories! At home, my mother would tell me Sudanese folktales like Fatma the Beautiful, who outsmarts the Ghoul, and Mohamed Elshater, whose bravery was unmatched. Then, I would step out into the very American world and hear stories at school like Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the Knights of the Round Table, and Brer Rabbit.
I experienced the best of both worlds. When we would visit Sudan, our family storekeeper, my uncle, Elbagir, would tell stories under the shade of the lemon tree in my grandmother’s ‘hosh’ or yard, exchange over hot shai with milk, and whisper in the night before sleep.
In the U.S., I quickly realized that outside of our home, these stories were absent. My peers had books, movies, and television that reflected their backgrounds, while I had to dig deep within myself to keep Sudan alive in my heart.
As I grew older and had my own children, I told them the folktales that my mother and uncle told me.
But a fear was nagging at me- the fear that our folklore might vanish with time, with generations. Stories are more than entertainment; they are the DNA of a people. They teach values, transmit history, and instill identity. Without them, a culture erodes, especially for those living far from home.
War & Cultural Preservation
My career in journalism has always been about reporting on communities of color, and diasporas – people with multiple identities, the Sudanese and African diaspora communities, Arab and Muslim communities- documenting the struggles and the beauty.
Yet, when war broke out in Sudan in April 2023, I realized that news alone was not enough. Facts can inform, but stories- especially those of resilience and cultural pride- can heal.
In times of war, culture is often one of the first casualties.
In the current war in Sudan, our libraries were burned down, our records and archives were destroyed, our museums looted, and our music collections demolished.
As millions fled their homes to safety in other countries, our elders became ill, and many died even after they reached safety- their bodies and hearts traumatized by the dangerous trips they took.
Whole families were uprooted- including mine.
My aunt, cousins, and, yes, my dear uncle Elbagir all had to abandon their beloved homes- our beloved host where the stories were told and travel hundreds of miles to live in foreign lands.
As a person in the diaspora, we often feel helpless when disaster strikes our homelands and our families. There’s an ache, and urge to help, and with me, there was an undeniable impulse to preserve. As I watched other diasporan Sudanese safeguarding culture in their fields in Cairo, Kampala, London, New York – the musicians and painters, the clothing designers, the perfumers, the writers and poets- I knew it was time.
Doing what I know- Folktales from Sudan Podcast
Toni Morrison said, “When you know your name, you should hang on to it, for unless it is noted down and remembered, it will die when you do.” I felt a fear- that if we didn’t actively preserve these stories, they could disappear forever.
But I believe folktales have an extraordinary power: they travel with us. They are whispered from parent to child, retold among friends, carried across borders. They survive in our memories even when everything else is lost.
So in April 2024, I dusted off the notebooks I had jotted stories on, and retrieved the audio clips I recorded with my uncle, and started the work. A year later, and nearly two years into this war, the result is here- Folktales from Sudan– a collection of audio folktales I heard from my family- recorded by me, with cinematic sound design.
From Kiret the naughty goat, to the magical eagle who brings riches, to Mariam and the Ghoula, to me it’s like a treasure trove filled with precious collective memory.
The audio format replicates our traditional oral storytelling experience, and they’re in English so the whole world can get to know a corner of our culture- and know Sudan- away from the narratives of war and poverty that are all too commonly the dominant narrative, countering the ‘single story’ as Nigerian writer Chimamanda Adichie put it.
Preserving Sudanese Arabic in the Diaspora
Language is at the heart of our cultural identity. For Sudanese children growing up in the diaspora, maintaining a connection to Sudanese Arabic is just as crucial as holding onto the stories themselves. That is why, in Folktales from Sudan, I intentionally weave Sudanese Arabic into the English narration. Phrases like “Gaaaalu kan fi…” (“Once upon a time”) or terms like “haboba” (grandmother) are sprinkled throughout the podcast, immersing young listeners in the language of their ancestors.
Hearing Sudanese Arabic within the storytelling reinforces not just meaning but a sense of belonging. It allows children to become familiar with the rhythm and expressions of their mother tongue, even if they primarily speak English in their daily lives. The hope is that through these stories, Sudanese children in the diaspora will not only carry forward the tales but also keep the language alive, passing it down to future generations.
Holding Onto Heritage in Tough Times
In the U.S. today, diasporas- especially those from countries like Sudan- often find themselves targeted, their identities questioned, and their cultures misunderstood. Policies and rhetoric vilify migrants, making it harder for Sudanese families to feel a sense of security and belonging. Children growing up here face a world where their heritage is often seen through the lens of conflict rather than the beauty, richness, and wisdom it holds.
But our children should not have to shrink themselves to fit in. They should be able to celebrate their heritage without fear, to speak Sudanese Arabic with pride, and to know the stories of their ancestors as deeply as any other child knows their cultural fairy tales. They deserve spaces where they can embrace their dual identities, where Sudan is not just a place of war and displacement but also a land of storytellers, poets, and dreamers.
Folktales from Sudan aims to create that space, reminding Sudanese diaspora kids that their culture is not something to hide—it is something to cherish and share.
With Folktales from Sudan, I have found a way to merge my love of storytelling with my commitment to preserving Sudanese heritage. Every episode is an effort to breathe new life into ancient tales, ensuring that Sudanese children, no matter where they are, can experience the joy and wisdom of their ancestors.
Hana Baba is an award-winning radio journalist and host of “Crosscurrents,” the daily newsmagazine on NPR member station KALW Public Radio in San Francisco. She is also co-host/co-producer of The Stoop podcast, telling stories from across the Black Diaspora.
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