Education as Recovery: A Personal Reflection on the Journey of Hope and Learning from South Sudan to Kakuma Refugee Camp and Beyond

Geu Madit Koryom

Introduction

Kakuma Refugee Camp, located in the Turkana District of northwestern Kenya, was established in 1992 to host refugees fleeing war and political persecution from Sudan’s protracted civil conflict. The first camp was set up about 6.1km from the small border town of Kakuma. I, Geu Madit Koryom, came to the camp in April 2002, after a journey of three weeks after we fled our hometown of Bor, South Sudan. Life in the camp is marked by endurance and scarcity: extreme heat, chronic water shortages, and limited infrastructure. Yet despite these hardships, the refugees have carved out vibrant lives, weaving together resilience and hope. My own life is deeply entangled with this resilience. I wrote this reflection to try to capture my experience in the camp and what it has meant for me.

Kakuma was where my education began, a place of both challenges and hope, and the starting point of a journey that would shape the rest of my life. This report is a reflection of that journey from Kakuma to The Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy. It is both a personal story and a broader lens on displacement, education, and the quiet power of perseverance.

From Bor to a New Beginning

The path to Kakuma was marked by both tragedy and endurance. I was born in Bor in the Jonglei State of South Sudan and raised during a time of escalating violence. My journey to Kakuma, and ultimately to education, was shaped by both history and family legacy, especially by my stepbrother, Maker Kuol Koryom. Maker was one of the “Lost Boys of Sudan,” among the thousands of unaccompanied minors who fled during the late 1980s to escape civil war. Guided by leaders like Dr. John Garang and supported by the SPLM/A (Sudan People’s Liberation Movement/Army), thousands of South Sudanese children trekked through perilous terrain to Ethiopia, where they lived in refugee camps that offered basic education but also served as militarized spaces shaped by SPLM ideology.

In 1991, when Ethiopian President Mengistu Haile Mariam was overthrown, the SPLM lost its strategic base and the Lost Boys were forced back into South Sudan and later relocated to Kenya, where Kakuma Refugee Camp was established in 1992. Some, like Maker, were eventually resettled abroad. He was resettled to Australia in 2004, becoming a symbol of survival and determination for our family.

In 2002, sensing the growing insecurity in Bor and believing in education as a way out, Maker arranged for me and my other stepbrother, Agoot Kuol Koryom, to travel from Jonglei state to Kakuma. That decision marked the beginning of my education, and the beginning of a journey rooted in the legacy of sacrifice and struggle passed down by those who came before me.

On 9 April 2002, we left our home village, Bor, in a convoy of two trucks carrying 50 boys. Midway through the journey, about 270 miles from Bor, the engine of one of the trucks caught fire. In a desperate effort to put out the blaze, we used all the water we had stored in drums for drinking, but it was in vain. The vehicle broke down, and we had no choice but to continue on foot to Imatong, a journey of three days. During that time, seventeen boys died from thirst, among them my cousins Adet Ajak Athieu, Oka Ngong Oka and Akau Akon, as well as my childhood friend Mariak Awuok Dhuordior from Jangdor section of Juet. It was only because the local villagers of Boya (Budi County) brought us water, that the rest of us survived. After spending eight days recovering in Imatong, we resumed our journey and finally arrived in Lokichogio, the Kenyan town on the border between South Sudan and Kenya, on 21 April 2002. We were registered by UNHCR and transferred to Kakuma Refugee Camp. That moment marked not only our survival, but the beginning of an education that would redefine our futures.

Kakuma Refugee Camp and Kalobeyei Settlement

Over the years, Kakuma camp expanded into four camps as crises across the region intensified, becoming home to refugees from Somalia, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Ethiopia, Eritrea, and Burundi. In 2015, Kalobeyei Integrated Settlement was established to accommodate the growing number of South Sudanese refugees. Unlike Kakuma, which had grown in a more ad hoc fashion, Kalobeyei was designed with long-term development in mind.¹ It encouraged integration with the local Turkana population and included initiatives for urban planning, agriculture, and livelihoods. In 2025, the Kakuma Complex hosted over 300,000 refugees and the original Kakuma camp (pop. 201,000) is the largest refugee camp in Africa.² However, even with the focus on development, policy challenges persist. Movement is restricted under Kenya’s encampment policy, and refugees remain excluded from the formal job market.³ Opportunities for higher education are extremely limited, and navigating services often means relying on fragmented support from UNHCR, the Kenyan government, and a patchwork of NGOs.

Education Against the Odds: The Refugee Experience in Kakuma

When I reflect on my life and early education in Kakuma Refugee Camp, what stands out most is the near impossibility of imagining a future beyond the camp. Our overcrowded schools were held in crumbling classrooms, using torn books passed down through generations. Despite our determination, access to higher education seemed like a distant luxury, available to only a few. Even for those of us who performed well academically, the barriers to university and financial support were daunting.

During my early school days in the dusty classrooms of Kakuma, education became more than just personal achievement, it became a collective mission. It was a way to honor the path carved by my brother, Maker Kuol Koryom, and laid the foundation for the opportunities that would come later. However, while my personal motivation was strong, the reality of education in Kakuma was marked by numerous challenges. Services offered by UNHCR and its partners were often inconsistent and limited. Overcrowding forced schools to operate in shifts: one group attended from 7 a.m. to 12 p.m., and the next from 12 p.m. to 5 p.m., meaning each student received only half a day of instruction. This reduced learning time significantly and deepened existing educational gaps.

Another challenge was the absence of mentorship. Students who completed secondary school found themselves in limbo. Many talented youths lost momentum without guidance or support. Most refugee families could not afford school fees, and our legal status in Kenya meant we had no access to national education funding or formal employment to support ourselves.

Educational Mobility through the DAFI Scholarship

Against this backdrop of challenges, the DAFI Scholarship (the Albert Einstein German Academic Refugee Initiative) became a turning point in my life. Administered in Kenya through Windle Trust International, the DAFI program provides merit-based scholarships for tertiary education to refugee students. Selection is highly competitive, involving rigorous written and oral interviews. Successful candidates are placed in universities across Kenya, offering a rare opportunity for academic and personal advancement.

Receiving the DAFI Scholarship allowed me to study political science and public administration at the University of Nairobi. It was more than just financial aid; it was a rare lifeline, offering the opportunity to pursue tertiary education and a powerful affirmation of my potential: a belief that a refugee like me could not only dream but also achieve. The scholarship offered legitimacy and transformed my future. I was no longer a number in the Kakuma Refugee Camp registry; I was a university student in Kenya’s capital city. I am deeply grateful for the DAFI program, which changed my life, and the lives of many refugees like me.

I remember walking into my first lecture hall in the University of Nairobi’s famous Mahatma Gandhi Wing with a mix of fear and pride. That space, so far removed from Kakuma, felt like an entirely different world. Yet I carried my community’s legacy as both a reminder of where I came from and a call to what I must do.

The knowledge I gained was never just for personal advancement; it was a responsibility. At the University of Nairobi, I also served as chairperson of the Kolnyang Community, part of the South Sudanese refugee community in Kenya. We organized fundraisers to support other refugee students who did not have the privilege of receiving scholarships. It was my way of giving back and ensuring others also had the chance to pursue education. I am especially grateful to Michael Thon Mangok Malual and Ambassador Barnaba Bol Nyuol Joc, whose generous contributions made a significant difference in sustaining our efforts.

The Path to Public Service

After graduating with a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science and Public Administration in 2021, I used the knowledge, credibility, and self-belief gained through the DAFI scholarship to return to South Sudan and serve the country. In 2022, I was appointed Public Relations Officer for the South Sudan Revenue Authority (SSRA). It was an opportunity to apply my university education to real-world public service and contribute to shaping the narrative of a country still emerging from conflict. That role, which I proudly held until 2024, taught me valuable lessons about governance, communication, and national resilience.

This professional experience was not without hurdles. As a former refugee, navigating national employment came with persistent challenges. In South Sudan, many view a refugee background as limiting, even for university graduates. I experienced this firsthand and saw it reflected in the journeys of peers who faced obstacles such as unrecognized credentials and layers of bureaucratic red tape. These are not isolated inconveniences, but structural inequities that undervalue the skills and potential of displaced professionals. Yet I remained anchored in the mission my brother, Maker Kuol Koryom, inspired through his own journey to serve, uplift others, and pursue excellence despite adversity. This commitment continues to guide my choices and fuels my determination to contribute meaningfully wherever I serve next.

Continuing Academic Journey in the United States

Guided by that same commitment and a desire to deepen my understanding of global governance and diplomacy, in December 2024 I enrolled in the Master of Arts in Law and Diplomacy program at The Fletcher School at Tufts University. I arrived in Boston on December 28 and was met by Machar Ateny Nai, one of the South Sudanese Lost Boys residing in Pepperell, Massachusetts, near the border of New Hampshire. Being on a partial scholarship, I could not afford housing near my university, so Machar generously drove me to campus every morning and picked me up each evening, commuting over an hour and forty minutes each way despite his own busy schedule. Thanks to his selfless support, I was able to successfully complete my first semester.

My experience at Fletcher has reinforced my belief that a refugee’s journey, no matter how uncertain, can lead to recognition, purpose, and real impact. The long path that began at Weremel Bush School in Bor, South Sudan, passed through the dusty classrooms of Kakuma Refugee Camp, and continued in the lecture halls of the University of Nairobi, now moves forward at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy.

This journey, shaped by displacement, made possible by education, and supported by community, shows that education is much more than personal achievement. It’s a vital connection between survival and active participation in society-turning marginalization into leadership and new opportunities. Though many challenges remain for refugees seeking education, expanding access to quality learning is essential to fostering hope, agency, and inclusion. My story is just one example of what can happen when determination meets opportunity. As I continue my academic and professional path, I carry with me a deep awareness of what’s at stake: making sure displaced people everywhere have a fair chance to learn, grow, and contribute to a stronger, more resilient world.

The Author

Geu Madit Koryom

Geu Madit Koryom is a South Sudanese scholar and practitioner who spent formative years as a refugee in Kakuma Refugee Camp, Kenya. He is currently pursuing a Master of Arts in Law and Diplomacy at The Fletcher School, Tufts University. He is also a Fellow at the International Security Studies Program, where he engages with global security issues through research and policy dialogue. Geu also holds a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science and Public Administration from the University of Nairobi. Before graduate school, he served as Public Relations Officer at the South Sudan Revenue Authority and as Chairman of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM) Kenya Chapter. Email: Geu.Koryom@tufts.edu

Endnotes

[1] Betts, Alexander, Naohiko Omata, Cory Rodgers, Olivier Sterck, and Maria Stierna. The Kalobeyei

Model: Towards Self-Reliance for Refugees? University of Oxford Refugee Studies Centre and World

Food Programme, 2019. https://www.refugee-economies.org/assets/downloads/Report_Kalobeyei_Model.pdf?utm.

[2] UNHCR. “Refugees and Asylum-Seekers in Turkana.” Operational Data Portal, July 31, 2025. https://data.unhcr.org/en/country/ken/796.

[3] For more on recent developments in Kenyan refugee policy, see the SHIRIKA Plan. SHIRIKA Plan:

Socioeconomic Hubs for Integrated Refugee Inclusion in Kenya. Government of Kenya and UNHCR,

n.d. https://www.unhcr.org/ke/sites/ke/files/legacy-pdf/Shirika-2page_Edited_112024.pdf

Kakuma, Kenya 2025