This story written by Global Movement Against Statelessness originally appeared on Global Voices on July 28, 2026.

Every morning in dozens of Rohingya refugee camps in Bangladesh, thousands of young Rohingya people wake up with the same hopes that students everywhere carry. They dream of becoming doctors, teachers, engineers, journalists, and leaders who can serve their communities. They pick up worn-out notebooks, walk to overcrowded learning centers with very limited resources, or teach themselves because there is nowhere else for them to continue their education.

Rohingya refugees are not allowed to pursue formal education in Bangladesh because of government policies that restrict their access to the national education system. As refugees, they are not permitted to enroll in Bangladeshi public schools or universities, and these restrictions are largely linked to their refugee status and identity. Instead, most Rohingya children and youth are limited to learning centers that provide only basic education. As a result, thousands of Rohingya students are denied the opportunity to continue their studies, develop their skills, and build a better future.

The world often describes these children as the “lost generation.”

That phrase reflects the tragedy of their displacement, but it does not reflect who they are.

After listening to the voices of Rohingya youth, one thing becomes clear: They are not lost. They have not abandoned their dreams, nor have they stopped believing in the power of education. What they have lost is something very different — the opportunity to learn freely, continue their studies, and build the future they imagined before violence forced them to flee their homeland.

Dreams that refuse to fade

Every day Mohammed Furkan, a poet and youth activist, sees young people studying  Burmese, English, mathematics, science, history, and geography late into the night, sharing books with friends, teaching younger children, and refusing to let education disappear from their lives. Most students buy their own books, while some receive donated books from other community members. He believes the world often focuses on what refugees have lost while overlooking what they continue to protect.

He says, “We have not lost our dreams or our potential. What we have lost are opportunities that every young person deserves.”

See also: Sold as Brides, Lost at Sea: The Trafficking of Stateless Rohingya Girls

Furkan’s words capture a simple but powerful truth: No young person’s future should be determined by the place where they were forced to seek safety.

This reality is also reflected in the findings of UNICEF and UNHCR. Rohingya refugee children and young people are eager to learn and remain committed to their education. Their education is interrupted not because they lack determination, but because educational opportunities in the refugee camps in Bangladesh are limited.

Although some learning centers provide access to basic education and some students can study under the Myanmar Curriculum Pilot, many children still cannot access continuous, quality education. Learning centers often have very limited capacity, resulting in overcrowded classrooms. There are also shortages of qualified or experienced teachers, textbooks, and other learning materials. Most importantly, opportunities to continue beyond secondary education (Grade 10) are extremely limited, leaving many students without a clear pathway to higher secondary education or university. As a result, many Rohingya children and young people are unable to continue their education despite their strong motivation and commitment to learning.

The pain of reaching a closed door

One Rohingya youth, Aung Naing Soe, explained that education for Rohingya refugees is primarily funded by UNICEF and implemented through partners such as CODEC, BRAC, JCF, Coast Foundation, and other NGOs. However, these programs remain insufficient to meet educational needs. As a result, most Rohingya students rely on community-led schools run by experienced Rohingya teachers in the camps.

For many Rohingya families, community-led schools are far more than classrooms — they are a source of hope for their children’s future. According to Ali Jinnah Hussin, a human rights activist and researcher, although around 6,400 informal learning centers operate in the refugee camps and are supported by INGOs, many Rohingya children prefer community-led schools because they believe that qualified teachers and the Myanmar curriculum better prepare them for the future.

Many parents choose community-led schools because they trust the quality of education provided there. These schools are run by experienced Rohingya teachers, many of whom taught in Myanmar before being displaced, and they continue to teach by following the Myanmar curriculum. In contrast, many parents feel that INGO-based learning centers do not provide the same quality of teaching or the same depth of knowledge, making community-led schools a better choice for their children’s education.

Despite the dedication of these teachers and the hard work of their students, much of this education remains invisible outside the refugee camps. Without internationally recognized certificates or accredited qualifications, years of study and achievement carry little value beyond the camp boundaries, leaving many talented Rohingya students without opportunities to continue their education.

However, although they can complete secondary education in the Bangladesh refugee camps, Rohingya people can’t access higher education because no Bangladesh university can admit them due to their refugee status.

For families already struggling to survive, higher education becomes a dream that feels impossible to reach. Young people who once imagined wearing graduation gowns instead begin searching for daily work simply to help their families survive.

The dream does not disappear.

The opportunity does.

According to UNHCR, only a small proportion of refugee youth worldwide are able to access higher education, despite having the ability, determination, and desire to continue learning. They continue to ask a simple question: Why are we denied the opportunity to continue our education when education is a fundamental human right? Are we (Rohingya) not human beings, deserving of the same chance to learn like students from other countries, grow, and build our future as every other young person in the world? These are not questions of privilege — they are questions of equality, dignity, justice, and human rights.

See also: ‘Detect, Delete, Deport’: BJP-Led West Bengal Government Orders Holding Centres for Illegal Bangladeshi and Rohingya Immigrants

Education is also about hope

Ro Hefzu, a poet, explains what it felt like to have his learning abruptly cut off due to his refugee status. “Before we can even demonstrate our skills, experience, or potential, we are often stopped.”

But when activist Ro Hamid Ullah speaks about education, he rarely begins with classrooms or textbooks. He begins with hope.

For young people living in displacement, education is more than learning lessons. It gives them a reason to believe that tomorrow can be better than today. When that hope is interrupted, the emotional impact runs deep.

Noor Kolima lost her parents at a very early age. She lives in the world’s largest refugee camp settlement in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh, with her disabled brother, whose severe mental illness makes him nearly unable to take care of himself. Noor’s life is a daily struggle to meet her basic needs for both education and livelihood. All she has left of her family is a powerful and symbolic scarf of her mother that she carries as a memory. It whispers that one day, she can prove she belongs somewhere in the world.

Noor was just 14 when she lost her mother to severe illness. Despite the grief and loss of her mother’s death, she continues to dream of becoming a doctor. She wants to save the lives of other women, so that she doesn’t have to see others dying, like her mother, because they have no access to medical services. She believes, “If I can be an educated girl today, I will be able to educate other girls tomorrow.”

Many Rohingya students live with uncertainty, frustration, and disappointment. Some are forced to leave school to support their families financially. Others continue studying without knowing whether their efforts will ever open the doors they dream of.

Still, they keep learning.

Their resilience is extraordinary.

Research by Save the Children shows that long-term interruptions to education can affect mental well-being, confidence, and future opportunities. Behind every interrupted educational journey is a young person fighting to hold onto hope.

What Rohingya youth are really asking for

Rohingya youth are not asking the world to feel sorry for them. They are asking for the same opportunities that students in every country deserve. They want quality education, recognized certificates, vocational training, scholarships, access to universities, and a fair chance to build meaningful lives through knowledge and hard work. Education is not charity. It is a fundamental human right.

Investing in refugee education is not simply helping individual students. It is investing in future teachers, doctors, engineers, entrepreneurs, journalists, and community leaders who can one day help rebuild their communities.

The voices of Rohingya youth in this article send one clear message: they have not given up on education, and the world should not give up on them.

[KS]

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