The Missing Piece Between Passion and Success

What if your entire future depended on something most people took for granted—education? In the Tongogara Refugee Camp, where I grew up, education wasn't a given; it was a privilege, often overshadowed by the hope of resettlement or the weight of survival. For many, the idea of school was secondary to waiting for a new life in another country. But what if education could be the very key to that better future?

When my four friends and I started TWEENS, I was afraid. Afraid that once I left, no one would take it forward. Afraid that the students we worked so hard to teach would give up. Afraid that the cycle of lost potential in Tongogara Refugee Camp would continue.

But I also knew fear wasn’t an option.

TWEENS—Together We Can Educationally Empower Non-privileged Students—was born out of necessity. During the COVID-19 lockdowns of 2020-21, schools shut down, and learning all but stopped for many refugee children. A few of us, Advanced Level students from the USAP Community School, saw this gap and decided to act. We went door to door, offering tutoring. We convinced parents to encourage their children. We spread the word that education was still possible, even in the midst of uncertainty. What started as a small peer tutoring program has now become a vibrant learning center—a place where students receive homework assistance, join book clubs, and even take Advanced Level classes. And I really appreciate all the people who have been putting effort to make it happen, especially those who are on the ground.

I know what it's like to feel like education isn't meant for you. I grew up in Tongogara Refugee Camp from the age of five. I watched as boys were encouraged to dream big—to become leaders—while girls were reminded of their future roles as wives. My own parents prioritized my brother's education over mine. But I refused to accept that my gender was a limitation. I fought to prove myself. I studied harder, worked harder, and challenged the norms that tried to confine me. NGOs advocating for girls' education supported me, and through them, I found my voice. I became the leader of AGEP (Adolescent Girls Empowerment Program), a space that taught girls how to navigate education and puberty in a world that often dismissed them.

When I finished secondary school, I was the only female student from St Michael's Secondary to pass out of 200 students. Just one. That moment wasn't just a personal victory—it was a wake-up call. It showed me how much needed to change.

Convincing others of the power of education, however, was never easy. Many refugees in Tongogara believe that resettlement—to the U.S. or another developed country—is their only hope for a better life. Education feels secondary. For girls, priorities often shift to beauty, relationships, or early marriage. I had to show them that education wasn't the opposite of their dreams—it was the key to making them bigger. I didn't just tell them education was important; I made them see how it connected to their passions, their social lives, their futures.

But TWEENS had its struggles. We had no resources—no textbooks, no syllabi. I used my own notes, my own knowledge. We had to work around social distancing rules. Students weren't always committed. Sometimes, I had to teach people older than me, which wasn't easy. But we kept going. And over time, we saw the change: increasing pass rates, more students staying in school, and more than 15 refugees from our camp now studying at international universities. That is the power of education.

Today, I'm studying Biological Health Sciences and Chemistry at Wilmington College, Ohio, but my heart is still with TWEENS. I dream of expanding it beyond Tongogara—to other refugee camps, to rural areas where children walk two hours just to reach school. I want to create spaces where students have access to WiFi, books, and most importantly, motivation. Because I've learned that motivation isn't something you give—it's something you help people discover in themselves.

If I could go back and talk to my younger self, I'd say: take it easy, and I'm proud of you. Consistency is key. Ask for help when you need it. And I'm glad you never gave up. I once thought I had to do it all alone, but I've learned that change happens when we lift each other up.

TWEENS is proof of that. And we're just getting started.