Play is more than a pastime: it is a right, a refuge, and a critical ingredient in child development. It nurtures creativity, resilience, social connection, and emotional well-being. Through play, children learn to solve problems, build friendships, explore the world around them, and regulate their emotions. Yet, for millions of children affected by conflict and displacement across Africa, play is one of the many things lost.
One of my fondest childhood memories, growing up in war-torn Eritrea, is playing outdoors. We had time and space to play, even amid hardship. I remember the way our games shifted with the seasons: inventive games in the dry season, group competitions during harvest time, quiet storytelling when the rains came, and stars were out at night. There was laughter, community, and a sense of freedom that, even for fleeting moments, made us feel like children. Whole, safe, and imaginative.
That memory stayed with me during a visit to the Bidibidi Refugee Settlement in Uganda, one of the largest refugee camps in the world. I saw children with remarkable strength and resilience, but I also saw the quiet weight they carried. The interruption of childhood. Many of them had fled violence. They had lost homes, family members, schools, and routines. And in many ways, they had also lost the freedom to play without fear or burden.
Displacement robs children of so much. Not just shelter and safety, but the very essence of childhood. In the absence of play, stress accumulates. Imagination dims. Developmental trajectories shift. It is not enough to simply protect displaced children from further harm, we must also protect their right to be children.
This is what fuels my commitment to advancing pediatric and global mental health. African children, refugee or not, deserve environments that nurture their potential, safeguard their joy, and support their development. They deserve spaces to play. Healing begins not only with food, shelter, or clinical intervention, but also with the return of play.
As a postdoctoral researcher in global mental health, I carry these stories with me. They guide my questions, shape my advocacy, and push me to center the voices and needs of children whose lives have been too disrupted, too politicized, and too often overlooked. My work is not only about intervention, but also about reimagining systems that allow children to thrive.
So, I return to the question: Are the African children playing?
If not, how can we create the conditions where they can?