SH Stories Essay Competition — Navigating Education in Kakuma: A Journey of Hope and Despair?
With high competition over limited scholarships and job opportunities; Mamuch Bey, a student from Kakuma Refugee Camps paints a picture of the struggle faced by young refugees — calling for more opportunities.
By Mamuch Bey
You will learn something fascinating if you visit a refugee camp. One of the most significant lessons you will learn is that — no one gives up easily around here
Born out of necessity when the world was utterly divided after the Cold War, Kakuma came into existence to shelter the ‘internationally orphaned.’ This group included the infamous Lost Boys of the Sudan, a group of unaccompanied Southern Sudanese minors who experienced immense hardship imposed on them by the Second Sudanese Civil War (1987–2005). Forced to flee the raging war, the Lost Boys waded through treacherous international and regional borders in search of safety and meaning. Kakuma, seemingly, offered both for this group. And out of their despair, hope was born amidst countless challenges.
To this day, the legacy of the Lost Boys and Kakuma continues. Although initially a small, sparsely populated semi-arid entity, Kakuma of 2024 is a complex populace hosting several refugees across the troubled swathes of the Greater Horn and the Eastern African geographies. It is reportedly a city offering an invisible life for the millions encamped. In Kakuma
I was born here, one of the first sons Kakuma raised. Throughout my life, she taught me one of the most important things– friendship. One that knows no race or ethnicity. To this day, once you arrive in Kakuma, you are only a stranger for two hours and the rest of the day, you’ll be surrounded by a family, you’ll proudly call your own.
This friendship helps us bear the many hardships that come from living in Kakuma. The harsh weather conditions; high temperatures, dry winds, dust storms, and the infrequent rains often destroy mud houses and lead to floods. Loss of young lives, outbreak of diseases like malaria and cholera from an unsanitary environment left by heavy rains, and infrequent drought seasons is not uncommon. It is often compounded by a bleak socio-economic environment.
Almost everyone I know here yearns for a better future — the chance for which is presented by the hope of education. This essay delves into that hopeful journey.
Kakuma and Primary Education: Challenges and Opportunities
The educational system in Kakuma is preceded by well-established pre and primary schools, a legacy attributed to the Lost Boys. However, overcrowding emerged as a formidable challenge as the Camp expanded. With overpopulated schools, refugee kids have lost touch with their teachers and this has affected their learning outcomes.
A careful observer of these schools notices one strange phenomenon: Instead of books or backpacks, pupils carry plates to the school. This practice reveals much about their living standards. It sheds light on the monthly food rationing provided by the UNHCR, where each person receives a kilogram or less of cereals and pulses and a litre of cooking oil. In most instances, more supplies are needed to sustain families for a month.
This limited food budgeting affects kids’ behavioural patterns while they attend school, prioritising plates instead of books. One notices that a student getting ready for school could forget a book but not a plate. In their minds, school is more of a feeding centre than a space for learning because, at home, there’s only one meal: supper. This is not by choice, as one may think, but a necessity, as parents know that sending their children to school ensures they receive two meals daily.
In Pursuit of Scholarship
These living conditions persist until these pupils join the upper primary classes. At this stage, they are able to finally make sense of their life and understand that the only way to escape such conditions is by academically working hard. This realisation becomes deeply entrenched in their minds as they reach Primary 7 and 8.
Then, they automatically find themselves thrust into an academic competition, each with a distinct goal. They strongly believe that if achieved, this would secure them a place in a reputable high school through fully-funded scholarship programmes offered by a few notable organisations such as the UNHCR affiliates — the World University Service of Canada (WUSC) and The DAFI (Albert Einstein German Academic Refugee Initiative) scholarships — as well as a sea of emerging UNHCR and local government-led scholarship programmes. Together, these initiatives have had a profound impact on the lives of refugee kids.
Existing data — notably the UNHCR Education Strategy in Kakuma Refugee Camp demonstrates this claim. In the academic year 2023–24, the program facilitated over 6,000 refugee learners securing scholarships to join various Government-led scholarship programs. Notable among these are the Equity Bank’s Wings to Fly, Mpesa Foundation Academy, Hands-On scholarship programme, and Mercy Beyond Borders.
After their national examinations, Kenya Certificate of Primary Education (KCPE), their results become decisive factors for their future. Those who apply and are fortunate enough to receive scholarship programs proceed directly to high schools. However, those who are eligible but do not receive scholarships face crushing disappointment.
I know of a boy, Obach (not his real name), who attempted to return to South Sudan on foot because he did not receive a scholarship that he knew he deserved. He had previously considered leaving before completing his primary education due to the enduring challenges he and his brothers faced in the Camp, such as a lack of support, deteriorating living standards and increasing family responsibilities.
Fortunately, through the existing social capital in his midst, Obach decided to try again: promising himself to work hard and become eligible for a high school scholarship. However, after years of learning and finally managing to complete his primary education without securing a scholarship opportunity, he was greatly discouraged. The emotional torment of seeing his fellow brothers, with lower marks than him, receiving scholarships while he worked tirelessly for one led to his second attempt to return to South Sudan. This time, no one stopped him.
This is because these scholarships — while crucial in bridging the gap between primary education and higher learning, are limited — and at times also complicated by the status documentation.
Across the breadth and width of the Kakuma, there are countless Obachs who, after failing to get scholarships, fall flat into the rest of the camp life. Encountering these young refugees in the street markets is not surprising. The good ones work for different businesses, for example, running shops or riding motorbikes. Most who turn to these ventures do it out of necessity to keep themselves busy against the odds. The decision to enter the market is driven by factors such as poor living conditions and pressing responsibilities at home.
However, young refugees who leave school without reason are also found. These are the infamous individuals one often encounters in the streets and dark alleys. Their primary business model is to engage in criminal acts and cause communal conflict in the camps. This is the darker side of Kakuma. Their activities are a growing concern for the camp authority and the residents alike.
But there is another group that persists despite the odds. These are the hard-working young refugees. These individuals understand that nothing worthwhile comes without effort, and even without scholarships, they persist. For them, education is their only hope, the one thing they can cling to amidst uncertainty; without it, they wouldn’t have anything to believe in. Each day of their academic life is one of sacrifice.
They often withdraw from their families and isolate themselves in schools while immersed in their studies for entire days. With their school administration’s approval, some students even reside as boarders within the school premises. One local secondary school, for instance, repurposed an unused classroom to serve as a dormitory for such students. They live in the school and would only occasionally visit home for meals, and sometimes not at all, choosing to dedicate additional time to their studies instead.
This commitment to educational excellence puts a lot of stress not just on their emotional health but also on their physical health.
In one instance, a student, Nhial (not his real name), from the same local secondary school, collapsed from exhaustion due to prolonged study sessions, insufficient sleep, and starvation, which severely impacted his health. All these sacrifices are made in search of a dream to have a better future for themselves and their community. It is unsurprising that at the end of their high school journey, many of these students achieve outstanding results in the Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education (KCSE) national examinations.
The student above, for example, earned a strong A- (minus) grade with 80 points. Such remarkable performance paves the way for further opportunities for them, including the chance to pursue tertiary education on fully-funded scholarships.
A Harsher Reality Beyond the Classroom
Despite everything, the struggle in the Camp continues outside the educational premises. In this field, one finds that those who fell short of scholarship opportunities for tertiary education become victims of underdevelopment and increasing unemployment. In Kakuma, one occasionally comes across job applications posted daily with thousands of refugee youths vying for the same positions, but a few are ultimately chosen. These challenges further drive them to enrol in vocational training programs and acquire essential skills and certification from various educational institutions. But as they graduate, they fall again into the unemployment traps. It leaves one asking: What is amiss in the K City? Skill or jobs or both? Refugee graduate students, like their former selves chasing educational opportunities, face a vicious cycle of wants and lack, an intriguing paradox.
Despite all of these daily struggles, Kakuma remains a place to be. The youth engage in sports like football, basketball, or volleyball after school in the evenings. Another simple yet psychologically vital aspect is the Camp’s sunsets. Kakuma has one of the most beautiful sunsets. Of course, after enduring a long day of extreme heat, dry winds, and dust storms, after a long day of studying and running businesses, a long day of playing and engaging in exciting activities, a long day after completing chores for their families — the residents of Kakuma collectively rest their sight peacefully at sunset.
It is not just a daily occurrence for them but a moment of reflection and restoration, providing a sense of renewal as the promise of a new day dawns on the horizon, bringing hope and possibility for the future. As they watch, the harshness of the day fades away, replaced by a peaceful ambience that envelops the entire Camp.
Kakuma continues to thrive, where dreams are nurtured and tested. We should consider the profound impact of educational scholarships in transforming lives, as there is still room to expand their reach and ensure that no deserving soul is left behind. These investments are lifelines that can pull individuals out of the depths and set them on a brighter future. They represent the promise of Kakuma: a promise of education, opportunity, and a new dawn.
Through this lens of collective responsibility and potential for improvement, we must view the future of Kakuma, including its revered ‘City Status’. Indeed, any place where education serves as the primary hope beyond borders should gain the attention of humanity.
About the Author
Mamuch Bey is a South Sudanese refugee from Kakuma Refugee Camp. He serves as a project lead at TEDI Africa, a social enterprise that’s dedicated to tackle poverty through technology, innovation, and entrepreneurship. He is a storyteller, essayist, and relentless advocate for education.
