Raghda, a Palestinian psychologist and a member of International Medical Corps’ mental health team in Chad, conducts trauma therapy sessions with Sudanese children from the Mile refugee camp to help them come to terms with their memories of violence. As part of the therapy, Raghda coaxes the children to think about a time they have been trying to forget for a year and a half – a time of forbidden memories.
When Raghda encourages the children to recount their experiences at a recent therapy session, initially no one speaks. The children wear blunt expressions to mask the pain they are trying to hide. But through games, role-plays and discussions – including some of Raghda’s own painful experiences of conflict – the children begin to share their memories as they sit cross-legged in a circle on the tent floor.
Initially the boys are the talkative ones, but with some encouragement, girls such as 11-year-old Souad begin to tell their stories. “Once, I was going to the well to fetch water when I suddenly heard bombing and shooting,” Souad recounts.“I could see fires burning from the bombs.I hid under a tree because I was afraid. After the shooting stopped, I ran home where I found my aunt’s house and part of our house on fire. I found my cousin and sister on the ground; they couldn’t move or speak because they were so frightened. I was very afraid, too. I remember that we spent the whole night in my neighbor’s house, and the next day we left for Chad. If I went back to Sudan, I think I would not go back to that well.”
If Raghda listened to all the stories that the children have to tell, she would need to sit for many months in the camps because every child has similarly awful memories, fears and secrets. Instead, she focuses on trying to heal the psychological wounds of the children during her group sessions. She is gradually guiding them toward a new mindset – the realization that their lives can and will be rebuilt.
In her penultimate session with the children, Raghda paints a mental picture in their minds that they have never seen before. She tells them that their lives will not be like this forever – that someday, things will change. The children are silent and concentrate as she explains that they should prepare for the future and try to put their memories behind them. With the passion of someone who has been through this process, she urges them to study hard and to strive to become the doctors, teachers, policemen and nurses that they had previously wanted to be.
Finally, she leads them into a new world where they must imagine a future outside the camps. She gives them an enormous piece of white paper that is to become their imaginary village. The children decide to name it ‘Hellit al Jamir’ (“Our Place”). One by one, the children add buildings and colors to the village – creating an image of all that they have ever wished for. One boy draws a school and gives it a name. Another draws houses, and one girl draws a wadi (river) with lots of trees. There are flowers, a beautiful old tree, and a big hospital with a bed, a patient and a doctor standing nearby. There is a police station, a mosque, homes with organized roads, and a water tap for the whole village to use.
The children are full of excitement at their joint creation. As they take turns drawing, they imagine together how they, the children of Darfur, will rebuild their future village.