Chad - A Tree Without Leaves |
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January 30th, 2007 - 11:40AM |
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Photo: Melissa Winkler/The IRC International Rescue Committee emergency communications coordinator Melissa Winkler was in Bahai, Chad, last week to document IRC programs assisting Sudanese refugees and displaced Chadians. January 23 - Mohammed Abdullah Hono has waited 17 years to go back to school. I had the chance to meet him today as he was heading to class in Oure Cassoni, the sprawling sand-swept camp the International Rescue Committee manages in eastern Chad for refugees from Darfur. He is a student in a just opened IRC secondary school. It’s the only formal secondary school that exists for older refugee students in Chad. Mohammed comes from a village in North Darfur that has been caught in the middle of tribal hostilities for decades. He told me that when he was 16, ethnic troubles in his area turned to violence. His parents sent him and his brothers to the outlying fields to herd animals. “This is when my education stopped,” Mohammed told me with a distinct tone of sadness. “It was for our safety.” Sporadic violence continued in the region and in 2003 it exploded. Mohammed’s village was attacked and razed, his parents and other relatives were killed and their animals were taken. He and surviving family members fled to neighboring Chad along with thousands of others and eventually arrived in the sleepy desert outpost of Bahai, just over the border. For Mohammed’s family, the camp that the IRC established nearby became their refuge. The IRC’s priority during that emergency period was to quickly set up survival programs – health, shelter, water and sanitation. Pre-school and primary school programs for younger children soon followed. There were no resources for anything more. Three years later, with no end in sight to the Darfur crisis, the IRC decided to take the lead in establishing secondary education for out of school youth and young adults. “It’s a cherished opportunity for refugees like Mohammed to resume schooling that was disrupted by conflict,” says my colleague Alphan Massaquoi, who is spearheading the effort. “And it also provides a positive alternative for young men who might otherwise be recruited by the fighting forces.” When Mohammed learned that IRC was opening a secondary school at Oure Cassoni, he quickly registered. “I have been waiting for so long to go back to school,” Mohammed said as his somber expression broke out into a warm smile. “Without an education I am like a tree without leaves. I have nothing. I can only help my people if I have knowledge.” I followed Mohammed into a bright green tent with long wooden benches occupied by 30 or so other male students ranging in age from 16 to 35. A biology lesson was beginning. In another tent nearby, some 40 young women were gathered for a history class, engaged, eager, hands raised with questions and answers. Moda Abdajala Gasser, 17, who finished primary school three years ago, said she's very happy to be able to go to the next level and continue learning, otherwise she would never be able to go to university. 'I will become a doctor some day,' she told me resolutely. 'When there is peace in Sudan.' Her optimism was infectious. Posted By: Kathleen Sands | Africa, Diaries & Journals, Sudan & the Darfur Crisis, _Melissa Winkler in Chad Permalink |
