At Trauma Rescue Aid (TRAID), we meet children who have lived through experiences most adults struggle to imagine. Conflict, displacement, sudden separation from friends and routines. Many arrive without the words to explain what they feel.
This is Fayha’a, a 14-year-old girl from Khartoum, she quietly in one of our sessions and began to draw. There were no signs of war in her artwork. No explosions. No destruction.
Instead, she drew her school.
El-Hakim International School, painted blue. Her favorite color, she said. You can almost see it bright, calm, the kind of place where life felt normal, where things made sense.
Every morning, her father would drive her there, drop her at the gate, and head to work. She would walk into the school compound, just like any other student, starting their day.
And then there’s Khadija.
Her best friend. The one she use to do assignment with, and shared stories with. Those small, ordinary moments that don’t feel like much at the time, but somehow become everything later.
For a child of her age, this kind of uncertainty is not just difficult. It is deeply disorienting. At 14, a child’s world is still forming, shaped by friendships, school routines, family connections, and a sense of belonging.
Today, Fayha’a is living in a refugee camp in Uganda. Her school, her daily routine, and her social circle are no longer part of her present reality. What remains is memory, and through her drawing, she expresses a connection to a life that existed before displacement.
Why art therapy matters in humanitarian response
Our psychosocial support teams use structured art therapy sessions as part of our daily programming with children affected by war and displacement. These sessions are not simply about drawing or creativity. They are carefully facilitated safe spaces designed to support emotional expression, reduce distress, and encourage gradual healing.
Children are often invited to draw places, people, or moments that are meaningful to them. This approach allows them to communicate experiences that may be too painful to express verbally. Through colors, shapes, and symbols, children begin to express their inner world in a way that feels safe and non-disturbing.
In Fayha’a’s case, her drawing reflects memory, attachment, and a quiet sense of longing. But it also reflects something equally important.
Resilience.
The ability to remember, to create, and to share a personal story is often one of the first steps toward emotional recovery. It helps children reconnect with their identity, even when their external world has changed dramatically..
Our social workers observe, listen, and engage with each child’s drawing without judgment. They create a safe environment where children feel seen, heard, and respected. Over time, children often become more open, more expressive, and more comfortable sharing their stories and emotions.
Why this story matters
Stories like Fayha’a’s are not just individual stories. They reflect a much larger reality affecting countless children across conflict-affected communities in Sudan.
Behind every drawing, there is a stories. A classroom once attended daily. A friend once sat beside. A parent once relied on for comfort.
These are not small details. They are the building blocks of a child’s world.
Sharing Fayha’a’s story is part of our commitment to making sure children affected by conflict are not only seen as survivors of crisis, but as individuals with memories, relationships, and hopes for the future.
Their voices matter. Even when those voices come through drawings instead of words.
A Closing Reflection
Fayha’a’s drawing is not just an image of a school. It is a reflection of a life interrupted, a memory preserved, and a quiet expression of continuity in the face of uncertainty.
She still remembers her school.
She still remembers her friend.
And she still holds onto the hope of seeing her again one day.
In many ways, that hope is where healing begins.
Fayha’a still hopes to see Khadija again one day.
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