Sofia
Begum is a case study in the power of hope. Three months ago, armed
vigilantes attacked the six-year-old’s village in Myanmar’s Rakhine
State. Sofia saw neighbours killed, an uncle wounded by gunfire, and her
home razed.
Miraculously, Sofia, her parents, and two younger
brothers survived. After an arduous four-day journey that included
evading militias and making a perilous river crossing, they reached
safety in neighbouring Bangladesh. “Now I want to be back in school,”
Sofia tells me. “I miss reading and playing with my friends; I want to
be a doctor.”
Sofia’s father is even more emphatic about his
daughter’s future. “Without learning, what chance will my children have
for a better life?” he asks. “They need to be in school.”
If only the international community shared that view.
The
Rohingya refugee crisis is also an education crisis. More than 655,000
people, some two-thirds of Myanmar’s total Rohingya population, have
fled to Bangladesh seeking sanctuary from the killing, rape, burning,
and looting in Rakhine State. Yet, although some 60% of the displaced
are children, education provision for Myanmar’s youngest refugees
remains woefully insufficient. Few are in school, and there is no
co-ordinated plan for universal education.
The scale of the crisis
and the speed with which it has unfolded is part of the problem. In the
span of just a few months, a population the size of Boston flooded into
southeast Bangladesh, one of the poorest areas of a very poor country.
The new refugee encampments are among the most densely populated places
on Earth, and inhabitants are desperate for shelter, nutrition,
healthcare, clean water, and sanitation. Education is just one of the
many needs competing for a dearth of international aid.
Political
obstacles also loom large. The government of Bangladesh has demonstrated
extraordinary generosity in responding to the crisis, providing land,
keeping borders open, and helping to build new settlements. Prime
Minister Sheikh Hasina is rightly regarded as a global leader on refugee
response.
But the government also insists that the Rohingya are
guests, and must return to Myanmar. The two countries’ foreign ministers
signed an agreement in November calling for the “safe and voluntary”
repatriation of refugees to begin early this year. The Bangladeshi
government worries that providing education could be interpreted as a
move toward granting refugees permanent residency. Humanitarian agencies
are left tinkering at the margins of education provision through a
fragmented patchwork of small-scale projects.
After being denied
citizenship in Myanmar, an entire generation of Rohingya is now being
denied the right to education. Former British prime minister Gordon
Brown, the United Nations Special Envoy for Global Education, has
challenged the generalised neglect of schooling in humanitarian
emergencies. In the case of the Rohingya crisis, insufficient funding
has been compounded by wider failures by humanitarian agencies,
including weak coordination, turf battles, and differences over which
curriculum should be used – an apparently esoteric issue that has become
entangled with questions about Rohingya children’s future status.
This
is a prescription for a future without hope. The Rohingya children in
Bangladesh are coping not just with displacement, but also with trauma.
Getting children into a safe learning environment could help to restore a
sense of normality, and provide the support they need to process their
experiences. It could also help inculcate values of tolerance, respect,
and peaceful conflict resolution.
Denying refugee children an
education will deprive them of these benefits and the skills they will
need to rebuild their lives, robbing them of hope for the future and
increasing the risk of recruitment by extremist groups. The growing
number of madrassas springing up in refugee settlements will magnified
these risks. These Islamic religious schools, which lack oversight,
could become vehicles for transmitting extremist views, as they have
elsewhere.
The starting point for any strategy on education has to be
a practical recognition that an early solution of the crisis is
unlikely. Given the ferocity of the attacks on the Rohingya, and the
failure of Myanmar’s leaders to provide credible security guarantees,
few refugees will voluntarily return to Myanmar anytime soon. The world
cannot stand by and watch as Rohingya children are punished twice –
first by the failure of their government to protect them from systematic
human rights abuse, and then by a lack of schooling.
Education is a
right to which even the displaced are entitled. Arguing about future
residency status is a distraction. Low-cost, temporary schools can be
made from bamboo, with lessons delivered by refugee teachers equipped
with Burmese-language material. None of this would imply permanent
residency in Bangladesh. What it would do is restore the hope that comes
with education.
The international community should act immediately –
and decisively – to deliver universal education for Rohingya children.
What is needed is a single, well-coordinated plan of action aimed at
getting all children into school in the first half of 2018. In the
interests of defusing social tensions, that plan should extend beyond
the refugee settlements to host communities.
Financing is available.
The World Bank has created a $2 billion fund to provide rapid support to
countries hosting large refugee populations. Now is the time to use it.
Money from multilateral organizations, like the Global Partnership for
Education and Education Cannot Wait, should also be deployed. Bilateral
donors could do more as well.
Children like Sofia have suffered
enough. They deserve our best effort to protect their right to an
education. We must not let them down. – Project Syndicate
* Kevin Watkins is CEO of Save the Children UK.
Rohingya refugee children attend a lesson in Palong Khali camp, near Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, January 14, 2018.