15/09/2026
๐๐ง ๐๐ฏ๐๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐๐๐ฆ๐๐ฆ๐๐๐ซ: ๐๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ง'๐ฌ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ง๐๐ฒ ๐ญ๐จ ๐๐๐ก๐จ๐จ๐ฅ
There is a quiet pride in watching my lovely son, Mohammed Arman, Arman Malik , set off for school each evening. His backpack is almost as big as he is, yet his excitement is even bigger. He loves to attend school, the walk, the lessons, the friends, the sense of purpose that comes with learning something new.
Sometimes my heart drifts back to Myanmar. If we were still there, he would be walking into a Myanmar school, learning in the language of our homeland, surrounded by the life we once knew. That thought carries both warmth and sorrow.
But today, my mind turns to something larger: our next generation in the camps. What will their future studies look like? What achievements will they be allowed to reach? These children are not short of talent or ambition. They are short of opportunity.
Education is the one thing that cannot be taken from a child once it is given. Yet for so many refugee children, it remains uncertain, interrupted, underfunded, and limited beyond a certain point.
Mohammed Arman reminds me why this matters. Every evening he puts on his bag with hope. My prayer is that hope will meet opportunity , not just for him, but for every child in the camps who dreams of a future beyond these fences.
๐ป๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐.
๐ณ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐.
