Ghost Hunting in the Furnace: My El Obeid Paranormal Diary

i landed in el-obeyid on a prop plane that smelled like diesel and desperation. the second i stepped onto the tarmac, the heat slammed into me like a physical force. i've been to some scorching places-marrakech in july, phoenix in august-but this? this was different. it was dry, searing, and seemed to suck the moisture right out of my bones. i was here to do a ghost hunt, of all things. el-obeyid isn't on any top ten travel lists; it's a dusty, forgotten city in the heart of kordofan, sudan, where the world seems to have stopped moving. but that's exactly why i came. places that are ignored by tourists are often the ones that hold the deepest, darkest stories.

i just checked my phone's weather app-which, by the way, was struggling in the heat-and it said 35.35°C, feels like 32.59°C, humidity a mere 6%. pressure 1008 hPa, ground level 946. basically an oven. i remember a meteorologist once telling me that such low humidity makes the heat feel less oppressive, but i'm calling bs-it felt like i was being roasted on a spit. but hey, if you like that kind of thing, more power to you. my backpack weighed a ton with all my ghost hunting gear: EMF meter, digital voice recorder, full-spectrum camcorder, a bag full of batteries that were already complaining about the heat. i worried the electronics would fry, but i had to try.

el-obeyid is a city of contradictions. there are a few paved roads, but most streets are just compacted dirt, swirling with dust whenever a vehicle-usually a spluttering motorbike or a camel-drawn cart-passes by. the architecture is a mix of crumbling ottoman-era buildings, with their arches and faded mosaics, and the more recent, brutalist concrete blocks that look like they were poured in a hurry. the colors are all shades of brown, beige, and the occasional flash of turquoise from a mosque's minaret. the people are mostly dressed in white jalabiyas, the men's heads wrapped in turbans that seem impervious to the sun. i could feel eyes on me-not necessarily hostile, but definitely curious. a white foreigner with a massive backpack and a serious case of sunburn apparently isn't a daily sight.

el-obeyid sits in the middle of sudan's kordofan region - basically nowhere, but that's the point. to orient yourself, here's a map:

i found my accommodation through a random blog post that claimed the 'kordofan rest house' was the best budget option. the owner, hassan, a man in his fifties with a permanent squint, greeted me in a mix of arabic and broken english. when i asked about any… unusual activity, he shook his head. 'we don't talk about ghosts here. it's not safe.' i laughed, thinking he was joking, but later i saw him whisper to a young employee and make the sign of the cross-which struck me as odd in a predominantly muslim city. maybe he knew something.

i had heard on the 'sudan explorers' forum that the old souq is haunted by a jinn that takes the shape of a huge black dog with glowing red eyes. someone told me that if you glance at it, you'll lose your way and end up walking in circles for hours. i took that with a grain of salt, but i still packed a pocket compass.

that evening, i headed to the souq as the call to prayer echoed across the city. the market was winding down, but there were still a few stalls open, selling spices, textiles, and knock-off sunglasses. the air was thick with the smells of cumin, roasting meat, and something metallic-like old coins. i set up my EMF meter on a stack of burlap sacks and started a audio recording. the heat was still oppressive, even after dark. i sat in the shadows, trying to blend in.

after about an hour of nothing but the occasional bark of a stray dog, i heard a distinct whisper right by my ear. i froze. the voice seemed to say 'leave' in a language i didn't recognize-maybe ancient nubian or something. i quickly played back the recording. there it was, clear as day. my heart raced. was i really hearing a ghost? or was it some trick of the wind? i asked a nearby shopkeeper, an old man with a missing tooth, if he'd ever heard strange whispers. he looked at me like i was insane. 'the desert talks,' he said. 'sometimes it tells you things you don't want to hear. pay it no mind.' i took his advice but kept the recorder running.

i later read on tripadvisor that the 'night market tour' is a popular attraction-though they don't mention ghosts, of course. still, if you're planning to visit, you might want to check it out: Night Market Tour.

the coffee stall i grabbed a tea at had a surprisingly good brew-i found it on yelp, actually: Omar's Coffee. Omar, the barista, told me i should visit the old british fort on the hill. 'my cousin went up there last year and came back with a flashlight that never turned off again,' he said, laughing. but his eyes were serious. i took that as a green light.

the next day, i hiked out to the fort, known locally as 'qal'at el-obeyid'. it sits on a low hill overlooking the city, its stone walls pockmarked with bullet holes from the mahdist uprising. the view from the top is stunning-endless desert stretching to the horizon, broken only by occasional acacia trees. i set up my full-spectrum camcorder and started filming. after a while, i heard footsteps above me, though i was alone. i flicked on my night vision (which, by the way, was acting weird in the heat) and saw a shadow move across the parapet. i snapped a photo. later, reviewing the footage, i noticed a faint, translucent figure standing in one of the arched doorways. it might have been dust, but it sure looked like a person in old military uniform. i posted the picture on the sudan ghost hunters forum (http://www.sudanghosts.com/threads/el-obeyid-fort-sighting.99999/) and got a flood of responses. some said it was a residual haunting from a british soldier; others claimed it was a jinn taking the form of a soldier to confuse me. i'm still not sure.

if you're into the paranormal side of sudan, you should check out desertspirits.net-they have an excellent piece on kordofan's haunted battlefields that gave me chills: Desert Spirits.

after a couple of nights of chasing shadows, i decided a change of scenery was in order. khartoum, sudan's sprawling capital, is only about six hours north on a road that's mostly paved and surprisingly fast. i caught a shared taxi at the main bus station, and after a dusty ride, i found myself in a city with actual coffee shops and a functioning airport. it was weirdly comforting. if you ever feel overwhelmed by the spirits (or the heat) in el-obeyid, just remember you can escape to khartoum for a day trip. not that khartoum doesn't have its own ghosts-every city does-but at least there you can get a cold bottle of coke and reliable wifi.

as for tips for anyone crazy enough to follow in my footsteps: bring more water than you think you need-like, twice as much. the dehydration messes with your perception, and you might start seeing things that aren't there (or miss things that are). charge all your gear the night before; the heat drains batteries faster than a vampire in a blood bank. and maybe don't mention the word 'ghost' to locals-just ask about 'old stories' or 'local legends'. they'll open up a lot more if you don't seem like a tourist looking for a thrill.

i'm still analyzing my recordings from el-obeyid. there's that whisper, and some weird EMF spikes that coincided with the footsteps at the fort. i'll post my full findings on my blog once i sort through them. until then, if you've ever felt the desert breathe, you know what i'm talking about. el-obeyid might not be on your bucket list, but if you're into the unseen side of travel, it's a place that will crawl under your skin and stay there.

peace out, and watch your back in the dark.

Ghost Hunting in the Furnace: My El Obeid Paranormal Diary

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About the author: Silas Dean

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