The Border Between Us

For many children across the African world, home is not a place but a memory: something carried through checkpoints, camps, and the uncertain geography of survival. Wars, political instability, and economic crises have scattered families across borders and generations. In refugee camps, urban slums, and border towns, millions of children are growing up in motion, their childhoods defined not by stability but by endurance. In these realities, to be a child often means learning to survive before learning to play, to translate between languages, navigate bureaucracy, and rebuild trust in a world that has already taken too much.

ORPHANS AND DISPLACED YOUTH

11/10/20253 min read

A Generation on the Move

Across the African continent and its diaspora, displacement has become a defining feature of childhood. In 2025. Millions of African children are displaced or live as refugees, though precise, consolidated 2025 statistics are not yet fully compiled. Key figures include over 1 million children displaced in Sudan in 2025 alone, with 14 out of 17 million school-aged children out of school in that country. Additionally, in West and Central Africa, the number of forcibly displaced people is projected to reach approximately 15.2 million by the end of 2025.

Countries like South Sudan, Sudan, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Somalia, and Ethiopia account for some of the largest child refugee populations on the continent. In North Africa, migration routes through Libya and Tunisia have become perilous paths for thousands seeking safety in Europe. Meanwhile, entire generations are growing up in camps like Kakuma and Dadaab in Kenya. Spaces originally built as temporary havens that have now become semi-permanent cities of exile.

"The deportees are the lucky ones," says Michael Owor, head of UNHCR's sub-office in northern Ethiopia. "I am very sure that many refugees just perish."

Officials at UNHCR have expressed alarm at the number of refugees that are attempting to make the perilous journey from Ethiopia to third countries. A recent report indicated that as many as 80 per cent of new arrivals at Shagarab had come from camps in Ethiopia.

"Those who fail the first time come back to Ethiopia only to try again," says UNHCR Field Protection Officer Benoit Hamanyimana. "They feel like they have lost everything and therefore have nothing left to lose. We need to offer them psychological support, but also livelihood programs so that they can discover their potential and stabilize their situation."

The Weight of Statelessness

For many displaced African children, the loss of home comes with the loss of identity. Without birth certificates or legal documentation, they are rendered stateless: unable to attend school, access healthcare, or prove who they are.

Statelessness is not just an administrative problem; it’s a wound that follows a person through life. The UNHCR estimates that over one million people in sub-Saharan Africa are stateless, though the true number may be much higher.

Young people who grow up in exile often carry dual burdens: the trauma of what they’ve fled, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. Many are separated from their parents or extended families, growing up under the care of older siblings, neighbors, or strangers who become de facto guardians.

Education in Exile

Even in displacement, the pursuit of learning continues. In makeshift classrooms beneath trees or in shipping-container schools, children study math, language, and science often in a language not their own. Education, for these children, is more than a right; it’s a declaration of identity and hope.Programs such as UNICEF’s Learning Passport make efforts to increase access to education which reduces vulnerability and improves long-term outcomes. The challenges remain staggering. Many young refugees drop out early due to poverty, early marriage, or the need to work. Girls are especially vulnerable to exploitation and interrupted schooling, perpetuating cycles of inequality that displacement only deepens.

Rebuilding Trust and Belonging

Perhaps the most profound challenge displaced children face isn’t hunger or shelter. It’s rebuilding trust. When home is lost and adults become both protectors and perpetrators, learning to believe in safety again is a quiet act of courage. Still, amidst displacement, extraordinary stories of resilience emerge. Youth-led initiatives in refugee camps are creating art collectives, peer-counseling programs, and even small businesses. For instance, refugee youth from Kakuma are running radio stations, and Congolese students are forming debate clubs to advocate for peace. These acts of creation are revolutionary. They reclaim agency from systems that define refugees by loss. They say, we are more than what happened to us.

The World’s Responsibility

Every border crossed by a child is a mirror held up to the world’s conscience. These children are not just victims of circumstance. They are reminders of global interconnectedness and shared responsibility.

We must ask: what kind of future are we building if millions of children spend their lives in transit? What moral cost do we bear when we normalize displacement as inevitable?

True belonging begins when the global community refuses to look away. When nations commit to humane asylum policies, regional cooperation, and the long-term integration of displaced families into safe, thriving societies. Policies like Uganda’s open refugee policy, or the African Union’s initiatives on statelessness and migration reform are steps in the right direction yet the fight is far from finished.

Home, Reimagined

For many displaced children, home is not where they came from. It’s what they build next. It’s the language they keep alive, the songs they remember, the friends who become siblings along the way. Their resilience redefines what belonging means. Home becomes less about geography and more about dignity, the right to be seen, to be safe, and to dream again.

In a world of borders, their hope is a quiet rebellion. Proof that even when every map says you don’t belong, the human will to belong endures.