The lost generation: Children in the Sudan crisis

• “I wish I could go back to my village, see my friends, and remember what it felt like to be safe.” — Hadeel, age 10

What makes up childhood?

Going to school? Definitely. Playing with friends? Absolutely. Using your imagination? Feeling safe at home? Celebrating birthdays and holidays? Being with family?

Can’t imagine childhood without it.

These formative childhood experiences help shape adulthood, too. They teach us how to communicate with each other. How to work together. How to live full, happy and healthy lives.

That’s the standard childhood for most children. This is the standard childhood for children in the Sudan crisis:

• Family separation: Over 42,000 children have been separated from their parents, siblings or other relatives.

• Forced from home: More than four million children have been displaced with many living in refugee camps or shelters.

• Lack of healthcare: Over eight million children under the age of five cannot access essential healthcare services.

• No schools: Approximately 90 per cent of Sudanese students are unable to attend school or get an education.

Because of the crisis in Sudan, childhood is no longer carefree. It’s surrounded by violence and guns and weapons. It’s uncertain. It’s scary. It’s defined by hunger and “ unimaginable suffering.”

There is a difference between living through a conflict and surviving it. When the Sudan conflict finally ends, the guns may fall silent. The schools may reopen. Families and friends will reunite and celebrate.

Yet, the impact of the crisis on the children of Sudan won’t be immediately seen or felt. But eventually, it will. And the consequences will be lasting.

What happens when an entire generation can’t attend school?

• “Schools have been closed as a result of the conflict, and I miss my classmates and teachers.” —Renad, age 14.

What is education?

It’s learning why you can’t divide by zero. Or what evapotranspiration means. It’s making up games and playing until recess ends. It’s forming good habits. Discovering personal values. Building forever friendships.

It’s years of learning. Of discovery. Of trying, failing and succeeding.

And it’s being taken away from children in Sudan. One day at a time.

Lost days. Lost education. Lost opportunities

School in Sudan runs from September to June (same as Ontario, where World Vision Canada is based). That’s around 180 school days per year.

The Sudan conflict began three years ago in April 2023. That means students in Sudan should have attended 540 days of school during this period. However:

• Over eight million children have missed nearly 500 days of school.

Furthermore:

• For the best chance of academic success, students should attend school at least 90 per cent of the time.

The math says millions of children in Sudan are missing at least 90 per cent of their education. Three years of learning have become three years of absence. The natural curiosity of children has been ignored. Knowledge hasn’t been built. Skills are undeveloped. Childhood itself has been put on hold.

Years from now, these kids will grow into adults. They’ll need to work and earn a living. They’ll want to contribute to their communities.

And that’s when the educational impact of the children in Sudan crisis will reveal itself:

Loss of earning power

• Estimates say $26 billion (USD) could be lost from Sudan’s economy. Across eight million children, that’s about $3,250 in lost lifetime earnings per child. The average salary in Sudan is roughly $1,600, which means two full years of income gone before reaching adulthood.

Generational illiteracy

• Prior to the Sudan conflict, around 27 per cent of people aged 15 or older were illiterate. With many students unlikely to ever step foot inside a classroom again, it’s expected that illiteracy rates across Sudan will only rise.

Gender inequality

• Approximately 74 per cent of girls are currently out of school in Sudan. This is contributing to a “last and least” dynamic where education, food and healthcare are prioritized for men and boys first. Girls and women then end up with whatever remains. The last and the least of it.

Low human capital

• How many potential doctors, teacher, engineers and leaders will be lost because of the Sudan crisis? This may be an impossible statistic to measure, but the impact will be profound and long-lasting.

Powerless to play

• “My legs feel heavy, and my stomach always hurts. I am just so tired. I don’t want to play. I want the hunger to stop.” — Omer, age 9

What is play?

Play is both a relief from serious learning and serious learning itself. It allows children to explore their surroundings. It promotes experimentation and creativity. It blurs imagination and reality. It’s been defined as “ the ultimate honesty.”

It’s also a whole lot of fun. And the best part of play is that it can happen anywhere. At home. In school. At the park. Play is boundless and borderless.

But it requires two things: energy and safety. And right now, for children in Sudan, there is little of either.

Homeless and hungry

In addition to children in Sudan missing school, approximately seven million children have been displaced since the Sudan crisis began. To put that in context, one child every 10 seconds is forced to flee their homes because of violence and conflict.

They’re going to refugee camps or crossing borders into neighbouring countries. Having a safe place to play takes a backseat to survival.

Then there’s the hunger:

• Over 4 million children are facing high levels of malnutrition.

• Millions of children are living on one meal a day or less. Some families eat leaves or animal feed just to sustain themselves.

• Food prices have surged, making it difficult for children to eat staple items like bread, rice and milk.

With no food to eat and no safe places to play, a core part of childhood—play—is being taken away from children in Sudan.

But play is not just a way to pass time. It’s how children cope, grow and make sense of the world around them. Without the power of play, the impact runs deeper than it seems:

Emotional toll

• Play helps children process normal emotions like fear, stress and trauma. When play is taken away, children have fewer ways to process these emotions. Instead, they keep them inward, leading to anxiety, depression and withdrawal.

Stunted cognitive development

• Through play, children learn problem-solving, communication and creativity. When play disappears, so do critical opportunities for development. These early experiences set the foundation for future learning.

Loss of social connection

• Play is how children build friendships, trust and a sense of belonging. For displaced children in Sudan, the absence of play can deepen isolation and disrupt social development.

Children in the Sudan crisis need your help

These are direct quotes from children living through the Sudan conflict:

• “The sky was black with smoke, and I saw people covered in blood. We ran until we could not breathe…I used to have books and a bed. Now we sleep on a ground in a makeshift shelter, and I wait for food that never comes.” — Ibrahim, age 11

• “I want to sleep and not hear the bombs anymore.” — Aisha, age 11

This is what childhood has become in Sudan.

Children in Sudan are not asking for more. They want bombs to stop falling. They want a bed to sleep on. They want peace, happiness and safety.

Instead, they are living through violence and trauma. The uncertainty of it all. If children need anything, it’s predictability and reliability. Right now, nothing in Sudan is predictable or reliable. But you can help.

How to help children in the Sudan crisis

Support families in Sudan

• Help provide emergency food to families in Sudan. Thanks to donations from the World Food Programme, your gift multiples up to 7X in value to help provide food to vulnerable children and families.

Make your voice heard

• Call 1-877-25-RESPOND to hear more stories from those living in Sudan. You can also share your messages of hope, which will be sent to all Members of Parliament within the House of Commons.

Behind every statistic is a child who has lost their home, their school and their safety. With your support, we can bring back just a piece of childhood to millions of children in Sudan.

A piece which should have never been lost to begin with.