Under the tree: Introducing Early Childhood Education in Karamoja

Early Years Specialist Wardah Yusuf has been working in Kyaka II refugee settlement with Children on the Edge Africa for the past few years, developing child-led, play-based learning for Congolese refugee children. Recently, she and her colleagues have travelled to Karamoja, the poorest regions in Uganda, to introduce our ‘cluster learning’ model in remote rural communities. She shares reflections from her first visit.

My first visit to Karamoja-Napak

Story time: In May 2026, I visited Karamoja to work alongside the team based there and help run community workshops about the importance of early years education. It was my first time going to Karamoja ( a 10-hour drive from Kyaka II refugee settlement where I currently work, and an  8-hour drive from Jinja where our head office is).

I was excited to visit, but had a lot of questions and was nervous about how it would go. I kept in mind that every child has a right to education and how important the first five years of a child’s life are for their development. 

Our first hurdle was reaching the communities, but overcoming these barriers only proved our commitment. The roads in Karamoja are poor, and on the way our car got stuck deep in the mud. Fortunately, some local contractors helped us get the car out and back on our way. 

As we reached the villages in Karamoja, there were no signs of any early years education happening. There were no play groups and no learning corners. I knew I had to think creatively to show the communities the  ‘power of early years education’ and start  conversations about the importance of early childhood education. 

What we found instead was something even more powerful: communities that were excited to hear from our team. They were engaged, enthusiastic and ready to bring learning to their children.

The reality: learning happens even without a classroom

As we visited different villages, we saw children who should be in school working, grazing animals. We also passed a family gathered around an anthill, parents and children together, collecting ants not as a game, but as part of daily life. It was then that I realised that though there is no formal education in place, learning is happening. Children are counting, sharing and problem-solving. Through doing, watching and being together, they are experiencing and learning. They need to have these everyday activities supported, made more intentional and to be given the freedom to play. 

I worked with my colleague Mercy to engage the community and start conversations about why early years matter. We sat under a tree. Parents, elders, children - all gathered to listen. 

Mercy translated the session and really made it come alive. She turned big ideas about child development and playful learning into stories and songs the community understood. People were clapping, asking questions, and leaning in. 

For many, it was the first time they had heard that playing is learning. And that excitement taught me something I thought I already knew: people are different, and learning takes time.

During the workshop, I spoke about shelter and safe spaces for children. The community understood and responded immediately by collecting materials for shelter construction. They weren’t waiting for us to say ‘go ahead’; they were already excited to construct a safe space for their children. Elders, women, and men had gathered poles and thatch. No one told them to; they did it because they believe their children deserve a place to learn and play. 

That is real community ownership. That is hope.

Creative Solutions from the field 

As a project officer in Kyaka, I knew that the workbooks we use work well; partly because the teachers are familiar with school and more formal education settings. 

In Karamoja, there is nothing like school; so I suggested we start with the practical part of the workbooks -  “let’s play, let’s talk, let’s try.” This method worked, so we put our heads together to come up with a solution to make the rest of the workbooks relevant and accessible for the communities in Karamoja. 

What Karamoja taught me: 

Karamoja taught me that inclusive education is not one-size-fits-all. A tool that works in one context must be adapted for another. The pace, the language, and the materials must respect the community’s reality. 

As we prepare to return for teacher training, I think back to my first visit - The excitement of the community, their questions, the bottle tops, the smiles, the handmade resources they created, and the community building with their own hands. 

It was fantastic to collaborate with team members whom I don’t work alongside so regularly. This highlighted the importance of having people like Mercy who know the people and can bridge language and culture. 

It reinforced the principles of listening first and believing that quality learning can start with what we have. At the end of the day, a building is not a school and a workbook is not learning. Understanding is, and understanding starts with patience, respect, and the joy of play.