Khadmalla Abo Abass Ali posing for a photo. Photo Courtesy: Khadmalla Abo Abass Ali
By Yasir Faiz, Bird Story Agency…..
In April 2023, Khadmalla Abo Abass Ali, a Sudanese single mother, had to make a decision.
She could either stay in Khartoum, where she made a living selling tea on the streets of Khartoum, where political conflict had broken out or she could find a safer place to raise her daughter.
She chose the latter. Rather than falling victim to the violence that had spilled across her homeland, Ali relocated to Nairobi, Kenya. She quickly needed to find resources to earn income.
Fate had brought her there in an unexpected way. A team of Sudanese filmmakers, working on a documentary titled “Khartoum,” had chosen her to appear in the film.
She traveled to Nairobi with her daughter to participate in the shoot, intending to stay only for a few weeks.
But as the conflict in Sudan deepened, returning home became difficult and complicated. The war dragged on, famine spread, and economic collapse left millions stranded in uncertainty.
Nairobi, with its cosmopolitan energy, was overwhelming at first. Ali spoke some English but no Swahili. She had no savings to pay rent or even cover basic needs.
“After I left Sudan for a safe place,” she told Bird, “I felt that the real war had just begun.
What happened to me left layers of pain I could now clearly see. I thought about returning to Sudan, because I didn’t know how to start a life here or what to do.”
Her turning point came during Ramadan. A young Sudanese man convinced her to stay a little longer and suggested they organize evening tea and coffee gatherings for the Sudanese community in Nairobi.
“Since I couldn’t afford rent,” she said, “I agreed with the mall owner to work from six in the evening, when other shops were closed. That’s how I started serving coffee, tea, and conversation.”
Coffee are tea are important in Sudanese social life. Soon, her small corner became more than a stall.
It transformed into a safe space, a communal meeting point for Sudanese refugees to talk, share their memories, and heal together.
“Everyone talked about the war, because we had all come from it,” she said.
“So while I was working, I was also healing.”
Over time, she saved enough money to rent a small corner from Sudanese shop owners in the same mall. That tiny space, anchored by her wooden tea box, became her first real business.
The beginning, however, was far from easy. She lived alone with her daughter, waking at five every morning to prepare the girl for school before heading to work.
By late afternoon, she would rush home to meet her daughter’s school bus, prepare her meal, and bring her back to the café for the evening shift.
“I couldn’t leave her alone,” she said softly. “After a while, I managed to save enough to bring my sister to Nairobi to help. We became two adults sharing the load.”
Her persistence paid off. Within a year, Ali was able to rent her own small independent shop. It was a modest café, but one that carried the warmth and resilience of its founder.
The Sudanese community in Nairobi rallied around her.
“The Sudanese youth here became like my friends,” she said, “Not just customers.”
Like Ali, many Sudanese refugees have carved out spaces of belonging in Nairobi. Their barber shops, restaurants, tea stalls, and cafés are not just businesses. They are cultural and social hubs for the Sudanese diaspora.
Sudanese journalist Hatim Al-Kinani, one of Ali’s regular visitors, describes her café as “a gathering place for Sudanese youth from different backgrounds, a space where they can talk about their personal and collective concerns.”
Her café, located in Nairobi’s Kilimani district, has grown into a kind of cultural landmark.
The smell of coffee and ginger fills the air as Sudanese songs play softly in the background. On weekends and holidays, the space buzzes with activity.
“In Sudan, especially during the holidays, people visit each other constantly,” she said. “I don’t want to lose that.”
Every Eid, she organizes communal gatherings and sometimes hosts small film screenings.
Beyond serving tea, Ali’s café has become a symbol of endurance, women’s strength, and cultural memory.
Her story, of a woman rebuilding her life after facing great challenges, resonates deeply with anyone who hears her story.
“Women need to know they are strong,” she said. “Strong through their determination, persistence, and hope for a better life.”
Her story of resilience caught international attention through the same film that first brought her to Nairobi. “Khartoum”, the documentary in which she appeared, has since screened at major festivals, including Sundance and the Berlin International Film Festival.
Its success introduced audiences around the world to her courage and humanity, and opened new doors for her café’s cultural activities.
Today, Ali is not just a tea seller. She is a community builder and a quiet leader for the Sudanese diaspora in Nairobi.
Her café stands as a bridge between those displaced by war and the host communities who share their city.
As she pours another cup of steaming tea for a customer, laughter and conversation fill the air.
In a city that once felt foreign and unwelcoming, Ali has created a home, not just for herself and her daughter, but for an entire community searching for belonging.
bird story agency
