In Khartoum today, after the revolution that deposed former president Omer El-Beshir in 2019, there have been numerous invocations of Sudan as decidedly “African.” The resurfacing of the first flag of Sudan—the blue, yellow, and green tricolor flag used before the adoption of the red, black, and white pan-Arab flag in 1970—has conjured new possibilities for Sudan’s place-in-the-world broadly and in Africa particularly. This iconography compounds sentiments since the 2011 partition of South Sudan that express both the loss of imaginative kinship ties with their “African” kin to the south, as well as longing for eventual reunification. There has been an outpouring of cultural production in theater, popular music, and visual art attempting to reconcile the seemingly ever-present Afro-Arab “identity crisis” of Sudan. As a result, the vocabulary of the “New Sudan” has reemerged to capture the euphoria of Sudan after the fall of Omar El-Beshir. The late John Garang called for the production of a “New Sudan” to imagine a secular nation-state that embraced religious and ethnic diversity. Thus the post-revolution invocations of “Africa” produce an affective pride in Africanity considering the decades-long hegemony of a mono-lingual and mono-religious national imagination of the former regime. As it did at the dawn of continental political independence, an imaginative “Africa” has come to represent liberation and reconnection with an alienated past. Yet, there is scant attention to who and what constitutes the “Africa” to which the “New Sudan” will orient itself. There is a conundrum when the individual, who laments as distorted the new map of Sudan, is unable either to pronounce the names of their South Sudanese counterparts or to position the contemporary revolution within the long genealogy of struggle in Darfur and the Nuba Mountains. How might appeals for reunification and the embrace of Africanity neutralize the capacity to formulate a racial and political vocabulary in the “New Sudan?” How might the emergent racial hegemony produce a discourse of equity that enables inequality to persist (Hanchard 1994)? This paper will explore how discourses of pluralism and recognition taking shape in Khartoum construe ongoing forms of inequality as personal or individual (Brown 2006), as though the symbolism of newly embraced African identity has a material effect on the lives of the racialized communities at the margins of Khartoum in particular and Sudan at large.