Sudan's Children Are Still Standing—the World Cannot Look Away | Opinion

Two years ago, Sudan's children were forced into a war they did not choose. Since then, they have endured a relentless storm of violence, hunger, and displacement. Childhoods have been interrupted, dreams deferred, lives lost.

Today, more than 15 million children across Sudan need humanitarian assistance—double the number from just two years ago. Families have been uprooted multiple times, schools shuttered, and an entire generation risks being left behind.

And yet, when I visited Sudan with UNICEF at the end of 2024, I met children who were still standing. Still hoping. Still dreaming.

In camps for displaced families, I met girls and boys who had endured unimaginable suffering, but carried themselves with wisdom beyond their years. I sat with a family who had taken in a young boy left behind in the chaos of conflict. I watched children play and draw at UNICEF-supported child-friendly spaces—fragile pockets of normalcy amid the noise of war.

One girl told me she wanted to be an engineer. A boy next to her spoke of becoming a doctor and others of becoming writers, musicians, lawyers, teachers, and so forth. Their voices were soft but certain. They had every reason to give up, but they hadn't.

I understand what that kind of strength looks like. I was just 13 when I was recruited into an armed group during Sierra Leone's brutal civil war. Like them, I lost my home, my family, and for a time, my own sense of possibility. But what saved me, in large part, was the belief that my life could be different and that my circumstance didn't define the entirety of my life. Sudan's children deserve that same belief—and so much more.

There has been progress. In 2024 alone, UNICEF and its partners reached 9.8 million people with safe drinking water, screened over 6 million children for malnutrition, and treated more than 422,000 with life-saving care. Safe spaces have been created, education has resumed in some areas, and psychosocial support is helping children begin to heal.

And now, some families are returning to areas that have recently become accessible. It is a sign of hope—that access is improving in places where, for months, the outside world could not reach. But we must be clear-eyed. These areas are among those with the greatest needs, and the humanitarian response is still falling far short.

Every delivery of food, medicine, and essential supplies counts. Every child we reach matters. In a crisis this vast, where nearly 15 million people have been displaced and 90 percent of children are out of school, we are still nowhere near meeting the scale of need. Aid must reach children wherever they are—not just where it's easiest.

Sudan is at a tipping point. The rainy season looms, bringing with it the threat of flooding, cholera, and more displacement. Famine has already taken hold in some areas. Nearly 50,000 cholera cases and 11,000 cases of dengue were recorded last year alone—the majority affecting children and mothers. Unless we act now, the consequences will multiply.

UNICEF's Humanitarian Action for Children appeal for Sudan is one of the largest in the world. This year, $1 billion is needed to support vulnerable children. This is a small price to help save a generation.

But this cannot be a short-term show of concern. Sudan's children need more than emergency aid—they need long-term support, consistent access, and a global commitment that endures beyond the headlines.

They are not giving up on their futures. They are not giving up on Sudan. Neither should we.

I met, Zara, Ahmed, Nana Smile, Mustapha, children who reminded me of myself—once lost in war, but now standing with purpose. The difference is, they still have time. And we still have a chance to help.

Let's not look away. Let's be the reason Sudan's children can look ahead.

Ishmael Beah is the Sierra Leonean and American author of Little Family, Radiance of Tomorrow and the memoir A Long Way Gone, which was a No.1 New York Times and international bestseller and has been published in over 40 languages. A UNICEF goodwill ambassador since 2007, he lives in South Africa with his wife and three children. Follow him on X and Instagram.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.