Displaced by Sudan’s war, Sahra now leads a refugee school where education offers children safety and hope.

Adre, Chad – Sahra remembers growing up in el-Geneina, the capital of Sudan’s West Darfur state, determined to outperform the boys in her class.

After sitting her national examinations in 2005 and 2006, she decided she wanted to become a teacher. She volunteered in classrooms while pursuing a university degree, eventually specialising in education administration.

Then, in April 2023, war between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) tore apart the life she had built.

The conflict has devastated Sudan, forcing millions of people from their homes. Chad, which shares a long border with Sudan to the east, has received a large share of those fleeing the fighting.

Sahra is now among nearly one million Sudanese refugees who have crossed into Chad, helping make it one of Africa’s largest refugee-hosting countries.

In eastern Chad, thousands of families arrived to find little more than open ground and trees to shelter under. For many children, there was no school to return to.

In 2024, Plan International and partner organisations established a primary school in one refugee camp. The school now has 1,059 pupils and 30 teachers – Sahra is the head teacher.

Teachers, administrators and child welfare workers have been recruited from the refugee community, allowing people who fled Sudan to help provide services for families displaced alongside them.

Chad was already facing a serious education crisis before the latest influx of refugees from Sudan. More than two million young people cannot read or write, and, according to the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), three out of four pupils nationwide are taught by people whose own education ended at secondary school.

The refugee influx has added pressure to an education system already short of classrooms, teachers and basic facilities.

“Illiteracy is very dangerous,” Sahra says. “I want the children to be optimistic about the future because education prevents them from early marriage and violence.”

To accommodate the number of pupils, the school runs two shifts, one in the morning and another in the evening. Lessons cover mathematics, science, history, geography, Arabic and French.

But teaching in exile comes with its own difficulties.

Sudanese teachers have had to adjust to Chad’s curriculum while working across language differences. Chadian children may speak local dialects, while many Sudanese pupils speak Arabic.

“The teaching syllabus in Sudan is easy, but the one in Chad is difficult for us,” says Oummalnas, a teacher who fled el-Geneina in 2024. She teaches mathematics and Arabic.

“We need more workshops to improve our teaching skills and adapt to the Chadian system,” she said.

At first, Sudanese and Chadian kids sometimes struggled to get along. Over time, those tensions have eased. The children now learn and play together outside school.

Plan International also provides safe spaces where under-fives can play, socialise and receive psychosocial support in the absence of formal kindergartens.

“We don’t separate education from child protection. It’s an integrated approach that helps create harmony,” said Kefa Mayange, Plan’s Emergency Response Manager for Chad.

For parents in the camp, school is as much about safety as education.

Charfadine arrived with his family during the heavy rains of 2023. Back in West Darfur, his children went to school regularly until the conflict forced them to flee. Three of them now attend primary school in Chad.

“We are happy when they go to school here [in Chad] because it’s a receptive place. It protects them from the violence coming from criminal groups,” he told Al Jazeera.

His hopes remain tied to the country they left behind.

“My ambition is for my children to be teachers to teach coming generations in Sudan and doctors to treat illnesses,” he said.

But not every child has made it into a classroom.

Nasradine, another parent, says hundreds of unaccompanied youngsters who lost their parents while fleeing Darfur remain out of school and wander around the camp.

“If those children remain outside school, our camps will be in danger,” he said. “This group could turn to crime and make our place unsafe. We just want help for those children to go to school.”

For mothers such as Roukhaya and Zenab, memories of their escape from el-Geneina remain vivid. They walked for about 10 hours to reach the Chadian border.

Yet both say life in Sudan, despite the war, had once felt more manageable than life in the camps.

Roukhaya’s children entered formal schooling for the first time after arriving in Chad. But she has watched older teenagers drop out because there are no high schools or vocational training opportunities for them.

Keeping younger kids in school is a daily struggle, too.

Azraa, a Mobile Unit Supervisor with Plan International, and her colleagues go tent to tent, encouraging parents to keep their children in class. In families with six or seven children, parents may send only two or three to school while the others stay behind to collect firewood, fetch water or look for casual work.

Every Friday, community centres hold awareness sessions reminding families that education remains important, even in displacement.

These efforts are happening despite a severe shortage of resources. Kefa says the refugee response in eastern Chad remains one of the most underfunded humanitarian responses in the world.

Children make up more than half of the refugee population, yet the 2026 Sudan Regional Refugee Response Plan received only 17 percent of the funding it required, leaving an 83 percent shortfall. Education remains among the least supported sectors.

At Sahra’s school, the shortage is visible every day.

There are no flush toilets, no electricity and no accessible facilities for children with disabilities. Pupils sit packed together on the ground or share benches.

Teachers and parents are asking for basic improvements: solar panels for lighting, a mobile health clinic, school meals and enough desks for pupils.

Abakar Mahamat Nour, an Education Officer with the Economic and Social Development Agency (ADES), a Chadian nongovernmental organisation supporting education and emergency relief, says the arrival of Sudanese teachers has created an opportunity for solidarity across the border.

“Chad and Sudan are like brothers; we share families,” he told Al Jazeera. “Having people like Sahra coming from Sudan to teach our children is a benefit for our country. They help our students gain new cultural perspectives and build new friendships.”

She lost the life she had built as a teacher and education administrator in West Darfur. In exile, she has found herself doing what she had planned to do all along: teaching children.

“Refugees have skills, experience, and dreams,” said Kefa Mayange, Plan’s Emergency Response Manager for Chad. “Like Sahra, we see them as leaders.”

Note: Full names have been withheld for safety and privacy reasons.

Source: https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2026/8/15/how-a-sudanese-refugee-became-a-head-teacher-in-a-chadian-camp?traffic_source=rss