“This research opened my eyes and transformed me—I am not the same person who started this journey.”
My name is Nduwimana Anitha. I am a 41-year-old refugee from Burundi, a mother of four, and currently living in Nakivale Refugee Settlement in Uganda, where I have spent the last ten years. I hold a Bachelor’s degree in Educational Sciences with a concentration in English (Licence en Sciences de l’Éducation, Département d’Anglais). After six years of unemployment, I began volunteering as a French teacher in a private secondary school within the settlement.
At the beginning, the journey was not easy. I often felt confused, speechless, and sometimes isolated. However, standing in front of my students slowly reminded me of a dream I had carried for many years: to serve others and contribute to education in a humanitarian context. Teaching young people in the settlement helped me rediscover my purpose.
Anitha presents to her fellow peer researchers and colleagues during a research training week.
Through this project, I had the opportunity to conduct interviews and Focus Group Discussions with refugee teachers, national teachers, school directors, and other education authorities. Listening to their experiences opened my eyes. I realised that many refugee teachers are not aware of the pathways to access employment or the laws that affect their professional opportunities. I was also surprised to hear some teachers say that after many years of unemployment or very low salaries, they had started to accept their difficult situation as their destiny.
Being involved in this research was a transformative experience. It allowed me to interact with school leaders and strengthened my skills in research and teaching methodology. It also encouraged me to be more creative and innovative in my classroom.
Most importantly, this journey changed me. It gave me confidence not only in my professional life but also in my role as a woman and a mother. Today, I feel empowered and proud of the work I am doing with my learners. This research opened my eyes and transformed me—I am not the same person who started this journey.
This Think Piece is part of a series, featuring 18 refugee teachers from Chad, Uganda and Zambia. You can read the full publication here.
The contributors are peer researchers on a GERE study exploring refugee teacher inclusion, agency, and wellbeing. Read more about the study here.
My name is Vasco Musebo, a peer researcher for Jigsaw in Zambia. I am a Congolese refugee, and have lived in Meheba refugee settlement since 2016.
I am a non-active refugee teacher. I worked as a language teacher for seven years, five in my country of origin (the DRC), and two here in Zambia.
In fact, being a refugee and a researcher at the same time (collecting interview and Focus Group Discussion data with both national and refugee teachers) seemed quite difficult at the beginning. I assumed that it could be seen to be playing with fire as many organisations and individuals across the world were to hear the outcome of my findings, including the Zambian government.
It felt to me as if we were challenging the government by examining and exposing their weakness in the education sector, which seemed somehow offensive in nature. Fortunately, the more I engaged myself in the assignment, the more fearless I became. I discovered that I was not alone, but surrounded by a very powerful shell of defense composed of a variety of well-placed organisations and stakeholders.
Furthermore, visiting and meeting other nationalities and collecting data from them was unbelievable. Every ethnic group has a way of sharing their hidden secrets, information or thoughts with others and, sometimes, they cannot open up regardless of your position or authorisation.
Vasco prepares resources ahead of data collection.
What made me successful in the data collection was the experience I already had as a teacher of different nationalities, as well as the knowledge, strategies, and code of conduct I acquired through the training from Jigsaw.
Regarding the Focus Group Discussion, I experienced something very admirable (to be highlighted in this narrative of course). At first, the interaction with our participants was balanced from both parts (between national teachers and refugee teachers). But later on, I was amazed and unexpectedly surprised to see and hear the national teachers expressing their bitterness on behalf of refugee teachers, who are treated with less consideration of their rights and working conditions (poor payment, refugee teacher inclusion almost not there, etc…).
I remember one of the national teachers declaring, “We are all one, all Africans, same blood color, created by one God; everyone can be a refugee, but why is it that a refugee teacher is segregated?”. It was so touching to hear.
From this experience, I deeply understood that this research is a very significant opportunity and has paved the way for participants to open their hearts and share their hidden demands for change in the intellectual world.
I would simply encourage Jigsaw and all the parties involved into this research, not to give up until participants’ request is granted. I pledge to remain supportive, engaged into this struggle until the dream is fully achieved.
“Together as one”, “Together we can.”
This Think Piece is part of a series, featuring 18 refugee teachers from Chad, Uganda and Zambia. You can read the full publication here.
The contributors are peer researchers on a GERE study exploring refugee teacher inclusion, agency, and wellbeing. Read more about the study here.
“What have I learned about myself? I have learned how to empower myself.”
I am Maymoona Bathit Brago. I am from Sudan and I live in Touloum refugee settlement. I have been teaching since 2016, but I have been in Touloum settlement for two years.
The school environment is not too bad, but it is also not good enough. The students suffer a lot inside the class because it is overcrowded, and you can find more than one hundred and sixty students in one class. I thought my experience of collecting interviews and Focus Group Discussions (FGDs) was pretty awesome, and made me feel comfortable in my role as a teacher. As a refugee in the settlement, it made me proud to be a peer researcher helping my community.
My role as a woman changed a lot through my work as a teacher in the refugee settlement. It also changed the way I heard or understood what someone said during the data collection. For example, when I did the focus group discussion, some of them didn’t understand Arabic. I did my best to explain to them using their mother tongue language. I also learned how to empower myself.
Maymoonapresents to her fellow peer researchers during a research training week.
The interview and FGDs were different from what I expected. I was not able to speak to all the individuals as I planned because some of them are farmers and live far away from the settlement. Also, the teachers were on holiday and the network was pretty bad. The participants didn’t respond to all the questions in the way that I expected because they are far away from the information, and it was their first time hearing about it. They just do their duty, nothing much more.
In terms of how the conversation unfolded and how participants responded to me, it was positive because they have hope in order to make their dreams a reality. Yes, I noticed the difference in how national teachers, refugee teachers or inactive teachers engaged with me. All of them said it was their first time finding an organisation interested in solving their problems.
The time I enjoyed most in data collection was the individual data collection with teachers. Thinking about a specific moment, I had a conversation with a secondary school teacher. This teacher had no monthly salary at all and there were no other options for them. They had no security inside the school, whether from students or the community. It was a painful conversation because they were in conflict about whether to leave or stay at the school.
I also learnt a lot from working alongside the other peer researchers. They all have hope, and work hard in order to achieve their dreams.
What have I learned about myself? I have learned how to empower myself. I learnt that every action has a reaction in my community. There is always hope for their wellbeing.
And if I can share one message with someone reading this blog, it would be this piece of wisdom: when there is a negative there will be a positive. We must always use our words to change the situation, not to describe the situation.
This Think Piece is part of a series, featuring 18 refugee teachers from Chad, Uganda and Zambia. You can read the full publication here.
The contributors are peer researchers on a GERE study exploring refugee teacher inclusion, agency, and wellbeing. Read more about the study here.
“If I could share one message with the world, it is this: A refugee is not a burden. We are people with dreams, careers, and voices. Being in this situation does not make us any less human.”
Teaching has been my dream for as long as I can remember. Whenever the opportunity arose, I never hesitated because nothing brings me more joy than sharing knowledge. However, despite my passion and extensive volunteer work, finding a formal teaching job as a refugee has been a difficult journey. Even so, I have never thought about giving up on my dreams.
When I was invited to become a peer researcher, I felt a deep sense of relief. Finally, there was a study focused specifically on the challenges refugee teachers face. This journey has been incredibly fulfilling. It helped me realise how many of us share the same limitations, but it also showed me the different—and often surprising—perspectives national teachers have regarding our inclusion. It made me realise how much work is still needed to change people’s minds.
The highlight of the data collection process was meeting so many different people. They shared their struggles and opinions freely, hoping that their voices might finally lead to change. It is a heavy but beautiful feeling when people look to you as someone who might help improve their situation.
The hardest part was actually finding active refugee teachers. At first, the few I found were hesitant to participate. However, once they understood the nature of the research and its purpose, they became more than happy to open up.
The most profound part of this experience was the chance to redefine key terms based on our own lived experiences. We were able to blend formal definitions with our personal realities, which was a powerful process. Additionally, envisioning a life of a refugee with the participants in a perfect world was exhilarating.
If I could share one message with the world, it is this: A refugee is not a burden. We are people with dreams, careers, and voices. Being in this situation does not make us any less human.
This Think Piece is part of a series, featuring 18 refugee teachers from Chad, Uganda and Zambia. You can read the full publication here.
The contributors are peer researchers on a GERE study exploring refugee teacher inclusion, agency, and wellbeing. Read more about the study here.
“Listening to a refugee teacher describe how recognition would restore dignity sparked excitement in me to highlight their truths. It made me feel that our experience can inspire change.”
My name is AKITERETSE CLODINA, a refugee teacher living in Nakivale settlement, Uganda. I teach at a primary school and have 8 years of experience. My school is a lively place where children love to learn and we’re passionate about making a difference despite challenges like limited resources.
Clodina presents to her fellow peer researchers during a research training week.
Collecting interview and focus group discussion data was an exciting journey. Wearing the hat of a researcher alongside my identity as a refugee teacher made me eager to hear and highlight our stories. One moment that stands out is when a fellow refugee teacher said “Being heard gives me hope”. This sentence made me realise how important it is to give voice to our experiences. The interviews were different from what I expected because they were inspiring and participants spoke openly about their struggles, which surprised me and showed me the power of honest conversations that flow naturally. I noticed that refugee teachers shared experiences that showed their resilience and strength. And refugee teachers shared more personal experiences than national teachers, showing their unique challenges.
The part I enjoyed most about data collection was hearing stories that energised me. Listening to a refugee teacher describe how recognition would restore dignity sparked excitement in me to highlight their truths. It made me feel that our experience can inspire change. For instance, one participant said being part of research made them feel valued for the first time in years. Moments like these reminded me of the importance of highlighting refugee voices.
This research taught me that listening with empathy unlocks valuable insights. Refugee teachers need recognition and support to thrive. Highlighting our stories can build a more inclusive education community. By giving voice to our experiences, we can challenge stereotypes and create opportunities for collaboration and growth.
Ultimately, it’s about creating spaces where refugee teachers are heard, valued and empowered to contribute to the education systems that work for everyone.
This Think Piece is part of a series, featuring 18 refugee teachers from Chad, Uganda and Zambia. You can read the full publication here.
The contributors are peer researchers on a GERE study exploring refugee teacher inclusion, agency, and wellbeing. Read more about the study here.
“What struck me most was the teachers’ strong sense of belonging to their schools despite the poor educational environment, low salaries, and psychological pressures they face.”
I am Saddam Adam Rashid, living in eastern Chad, in the Hiba’ province, within the Iridimi refugee settlement. I have been working as a secondary school teacher and a peer researcher since 2023. The school where I work represents a common model for refugee schools; it suffers from an unstable educational environment, weak support for teachers, a lack of training and qualification, in addition to low salaries and low community appreciation for the teacher’s role.
Through my participation in collecting data, conducting interviews, and organising focus groups, I underwent a significant educational and humanitarian experience. I learned how to listen attentively to others’ opinions, respect their different viewpoints, and provide them with a safe space to express their thoughts and experiences. This interaction gave me a feeling of psychological satisfaction and strengthened my interest in research alongside my work in teaching.
Sadam engages with the data collection resources during a research training week.
Initially, I expected that participants would have difficulty understanding the questions or accepting others’ opinions, but what happened was the complete opposite; the participants showed great openness and enthusiasm to participate. Through their answers, it became clear that many of them are under psychological stress due to the social and economic circumstances surrounding them.
The data collection experience was enjoyable and useful, as it gave me greater confidence in my ability to conduct research in various fields. What struck me most was the teachers’ strong sense of belonging to their schools despite the poor educational environment, low salaries, and psychological pressures they face.
However, I faced some challenges, most notably the lack of trust some participants had towards humanitarian organisations. Therefore, before starting any interview or discussion, I made sure to clarify the nature of the Jigsaw’s work and how support is provided, which helped build greater trust and facilitate the collection of information.
This experience confirms my belief that education is the foundation for the renaissance of societies, and that improving the quality of education begins with caring for and supporting the teacher. I also learned that understanding problems requires giving participants enough space to express their opinions and contribute to finding solutions themselves.
This Think Piece is part of a series, featuring 18 refugee teachers from Chad, Uganda and Zambia. You can read the full publication here.
The contributors are peer researchers on a GERE study exploring refugee teacher inclusion, agency, and wellbeing. Read more about the study here.
“Refugee teachers, like their national counterparts, possess great potential. If empowered, they too can become valuable assets for productivity and progress in the communities that host them.”
My name is Zebron Mwenebatu. When I fled my home country, the Democratic Republic of Congo, in 2017, I arrived at Mayukwayukwa Refugee Settlement in Zambia with hope. After several unsuccessful attempts to find employment, a new idea changed everything. I noticed that many young people and adults in the refugee community were unable to access quality education and employment because of language barriers. In response, I started a small center where other youths and I taught English. I believe that in today’s modern world, learning English can improve literacy, employability, and access to education. I have been doing this since 2018, but due to financial challenges in 2024, the school moved online, where only a small number of students continue to attend.
As a refugee taking on the role of researcher, I felt excited to be part of the solution to challenges affecting people in situations like mine. My positionality and background also shaped how I understood participants. For instance, when interviewing an inactive refugee teacher1 who spoke French and Lingala, I could easily understand and translate even the most colloquial expressions because I am a born-and-bred Congolese. Overall, participants responded positively during the different phases of data collection. National teachers and active refugee teachers2 appeared more cooperative and open than inactive teachers, but all participants were willing to share their experiences.
Zebron presents to fellow Peer Researchers during a research training week.
What fascinated me most was the quality of interaction during the sessions and how this contributed to the achievement of the objective. One moment that still stands out is when a Zambian female teacher said, “This interview creates a kind of safe space where I feel free to speak about the stresses of my work—stresses I have not been able to share with anyone at this school for a long time.” This reminded me of the power of meaningful dialogue and reaffirmed the value of the research.
I did not face many significant challenges during data collection. With the skills and materials I gained from PR training, along with my multicultural and contextual knowledge of the community, I worked with minimal obstacles. However, due to the shortage of electricity in the settlement, I once found myself about 20 kilometers in the outback where both my tablet and keypad shut down after seven hours of continuous work. Fortunately, I had carried a manuscript copy of the questionnaire and a notepad, which allowed me to continue my work without major disruption.
I felt particularly confident conducting interviews because of their semi-structured nature. This format allowed me to seek and obtain detailed information while maintaining enough flexibility to naturally bring out deeper insights from participants.
During one interview, an Angolan refugee who had worked at a government school for nearly three years revealed the painful dilemma he faced before resigning. He had to choose between continuing to teach while watching his dependents live in misery, or quitting his job to hustle and provide for them. I found this teacher’s experience deeply moving. It reminded me that sometimes even heroes bear the burden of their own sacrifices for the sake of others.
It took my first semester of serious involvement in research work to realise that research is indeed important in all aspects of life. It helps us uncover what is often unseen and bring hidden truths to light.
From what I have learned so far, I can confidently affirm that refugee teachers, like their national counterparts, possess great potential. If empowered, they too can become valuable assets for productivity and progress in the communities that host them.
Footnotes:
‘Inactive’ teachers are those who have taught in the past (either in the home or host country) but are currently not teaching because they either do not have access to or interest in teaching work in the host country. ↩︎
‘Active’ teachers are those who are currently teaching in informal or formal school settings. ↩︎
This Think Piece is part of a series, featuring 18 refugee teachers from Chad, Uganda and Zambia. You can read the full publication here.
The contributors are peer researchers on a GERE study exploring refugee teacher inclusion, agency, and wellbeing. Read more about the study here.
This synthesis shares findings from the first two rounds of data collection from an ongoing research study exploring refugee teacher inclusion in Chad, Uganda and Zambia. The document, while an early-stage summary of headline findings, offers emerging insights about the factors influencing refugee teacher inclusion, agency and wellbeing across the three contexts.
“If there is one thing I want readers to take away, it is this: teachers, whether refugee or national, are the foundation of the future. But you cannot build a future on a foundation that is ignored, underpaid, and kept in the dark. We need transparency. We need information. We need to be valued.”
My name is Abraham Bashombana Aganze and I am a refugee teacher living and working in Uganda, in Nakivale refugee settlement. I have been teaching for five years now in my host country.
When I was asked to be a peer researcher for this project on refugee teacher inclusion pathways, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. I didn’t know what I would find by asking my colleagues to open up about their lives.
Honestly, what I found shocked me. It also changed how I see myself, my community, and the system we all navigate as teachers.
Abraham presents to fellow Peer Researchers and other colleagues in Uganda during a research training week.
Right from the start, collecting data was not easy. The research took place during the holidays, and I quickly learned that for many teachers, a “holiday” does not mean resting. Most teachers had left the settlement to look for other jobs of any kind just to survive because many are not paid during holidays. The people I needed to speak with were scattered, working hard in distant places just to put food on the table.
Then, when it was time to organise the Focus Group Discussions, another challenge appeared. Teachers live in different villages, spread far apart. Bringing everyone together in one place required money (money for transport refunds so they could afford to come and share their stories). I had to invest my own resources to make it happen. It was a logistical puzzle, and there were moments I worried we wouldn’t be able to do it at all.
Despite the difficulties, when we finally sat down to talk, the conversations were worth every effort. The biggest eye-opener was this: most refugee teachers have no idea what their rights are. I listened to colleague after colleague describe their struggles, and I realised that nobody had ever told them what they are entitled to. I kept asking myself: Why do stakeholders keep us ignorant? It feels like being left in the dark on purpose. We don’t know where to go for help, who to ask for support, or how to access the services that could fully include us in this country.
Before this research, I carried a heavy feeling that I was the only one who was not satisfied with my life. I thought my frustration was personal, something wrong with me. But sitting across from other refugee teachers, hearing their stories, I realised we are all struggling with the same dissatisfaction. Even more surprising? Some national teachers shared those same feelings. That moment revealed a hard truth: it isn’t just abongaged constructively with questions and suggestions from government representatives, responding with clarity and confidence.
I also learned about the obstacles that keep us stuck. Many refugee teachers told me about trying to get their documents equated, only to wait years for a result. The process is so long, it makes you wonder if corruption is pulling the strings behind the scenes. How else do you explain a system that moves so slowly that it keeps people from working legally in their profession?
Abraham receives a certificate of completion following the end of a research training week.
Even with all these challenges, this experience gave me something invaluable. The training we received as peer researchers has truly empowered me. I gained knowledge and skills that will remain relevant for the rest of my life; not just as a researcher, but as a teacher. I learned how to listen more deeply, how to ask questions that matter, how to solve problems that affected both my students and myself using the research methodologies and skills I learned and and how to see the bigger picture behind individual struggles. That training is a gift I will carry with me forever.
And the benefits keep growing. The gadget I was given to conduct this research, to record interviews and take notes, is now helping me in my classroom every day. I use it to find and prepare materials for my lessons. The skills I learned during the training have also improved my teaching practices. I find myself engaging with my students differently, asking better questions, and really listening to their answers. What started as a research project has made me a better teacher.
I always use the tablet to access French and Kiswahili courses on different online platforms (Alison, YouTube,..). I started using this teaching strategy after realising that many pupils in my secondary school don’t like the above mentioned languages. I had to use the research knowledge and skills I learned during Jigsaw trainings to find out the reasons behind their unjustified abhorrence. After conducting interviews with my learners, I realised that the content in the syllabus book is what scares them since they do lack basic knowledge. This made me look for French and Kiswahili lessons for complete beginners. Now my class is full of pupils who have taken French as an optional subject.
This research has reached deep into my awareness and brought things to light that I never saw before. I thought I was alone in my frustration, but I am part of a crowd. The challenge now is figuring out how we make our voices heard; and how we finally get the information and rights we deserve.
If there is one thing I want readers to take away, it is this: teachers, whether refugee or national, are the foundation of the future. But you cannot build a future on a foundation that is ignored, underpaid, and kept in the dark. We need transparency. We need information. We need to be valued.
This Think Piece is part of a series, featuring 18 refugee teachers from Chad, Uganda and Zambia. You can read the full publication here.
The contributors are peer researchers on a GERE study exploring refugee teacher inclusion, agency, and wellbeing. Read more about the study here.
Refugee Teachers as Peer Researchers: Experiences of inclusion and research
This collection of think pieces was authored by 18 peer researchers from Chad, Uganda and Zambia. Written midway through their research journey, they offer honest reflections on what it means to teach and research in contexts of displacement, and what is gained when refugee teachers are meaningfully included, recognised and supported.
