By Sheila Ponnie
ABUKADRA, Upper Nile State, South Sudan — Lena Emanuel squeezed into a small space inside a crowded classroom with more than 200 pupils. The air was thick, dusty, and suffocating. But Lena remained attentive, flipping through the pages of a weather-beaten notebook as her teacher — one of only 16 serving nearly 700 students at Abukadra Primary School — wrote on the chalkboard.
This is not an ordinary classroom. For Lena, it is a lifeline — an open gate to a brighter future where she hopes to change lives. “It is a very good feeling,” she said with a smile when asked how it feels to be back in school.
Lena’s story dates back to 2013, when conflict erupted in South Sudan and her family fled north to Sudan, which her parents believed would be safer. In Sudan, she was able to attend school. But in 2023, war broke out there as well, forcing her family to flee again, this time back to South Sudan.
They settled in Abukadra, a border village in Upper Nile State. While the area offered relative calm compared to the violence between the Rapid Support Forces and the Sudanese army, it lacked one critical service: education. With school closed during the 2013 conflict due to insecurity and displacement, Abukadra had no functioning public primary school for years, depriving thousands of children of access to education — a basic human right.
The school, once used as a military camp, remained largely nonfunctional until February 2026, when it fully reopened.
“Before then, I had never attended school since we came back,” said Lena, who spent nearly two years without stepping into a classroom. “I cannot explain this feeling. I am excited,” she added Lena enrolled just weeks after the school reopened.
Her experience reflects that of thousands of children whose education has been repeatedly disrupted by conflict — first in South Sudan, then in neighboring Sudan. As crises spill across borders, fragile communities like Abukadra face mounting challenges. For many parents, the biggest concern is how to keep children in school amid repeated displacement.
A childhood interrupted twice
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Abukadra lies in a region that has absorbed large numbers of people fleeing war in Sudan. Aid agencies warn that when children are out of school for extended periods, the risks of child labor, early marriage, exploitation, and permanent dropout increase significantly.
“I was thinking about my future,” Lena said. “You think about working, and some think about getting married — because it’s better than sitting at home idle.”
The reopening of Abukadra Primary School was driven in part by the arrival of returnees from Sudan — families bringing children eager to learn. “We started in February and continue to give them lessons,” said Puot Biel Nyak Baden, a teacher at the school.
Today, the school serves around 700 learners, most of them returnees. “It is too much, but I am managing,” Baden said.
Border communities under pressure
For communities already struggling with poverty and weak public services, the population surge has strained infrastructure. Access to clean water and health care remain limited.
Aleir Kur Chol, a local education official, said the influx of children has placed “great pressure” on the education system. “Schools had to absorb a very big number of children. Some have introduced evening classes to accommodate them.”
Radio-based classrooms
The strain extends beyond classroom space.
In Sudan, Arabic is the primary language of instruction. In South Sudan, the curriculum is taught in English. To bridge the gap, education authorities and humanitarian partners have introduced alternative learning programs, including radio-based lessons and accelerated education for older children who missed years of schooling.
Sustaining these programs, however, requires funding. The reopening of Abukadra Primary School has been supported by humanitarian efforts, including assistance from the European Commission’s Humanitarian Aid department (ECHO) and UNICEF. Support includes learning materials, teacher training, psychosocial services, and child help desks offering counseling.
“When we reopened, there were about 231 learners. Now we have more than 700,” said Ayen Joseph Muker, a project manager with Community in Need Aid, the school’s implementing partner.
Despite this progress, education in emergencies remains one of the most underfunded sectors, even as the number of displaced children continues to grow. Limited resources mean the school cannot meet basic needs. Some students sit on stones, others on the bare ground. “We are sitting on the floor,” Lena said..
Most returning families arrive with little or nothing after fleeing violence. Julia Nyuon, a mother of three, spent a year in a transit center after crossing the border. During that time, her children did not attend school. “My family was very poor,” she said.
Today, one of her children is enrolled at Abukadra. She hopes education will change their future, saying that“Education is the future of my child.” Teaching without pay
As enrollment rises, the burden on teachers grows. Most of Abukadra’s teachers are volunteers.
“We don’t have any salary,” Baden said. “But we are committed. We are part of the community.” Out of 16 teachers, only six receive incentives — about $40 per month.
Aid workers warn that volunteerism alone cannot sustain a school system under such pressure. Without long-term investment in teachers, classrooms, and materials, progress could falter.
