For two years, the city of Khartoum in Sudan has been ravaged by war. Tanks rolled into neighborhoods, fighter jets soared overhead and civilians were caught in the crossfire, artillery bombardments and drone strikes. Schools, playgrounds, and football pitches are now nothing but ruins, their remnants a haunting reminder of what once was. But amidst the devastation, there's one voice that stands out - 12-year-old Zaher.
Zaher's world has been turned upside down since his family fled their home about 200km south-west of Khartoum in search of safety from fighting between government forces and paramilitary groups known as the Rapid Support Forces. The force took everything they owned, leaving them with nothing but their lives. Zaher and his mother, Habibah, had to sell lentils on the streets just to survive.
One morning, a drone struck while Habibah was working alongside her son. Zaher's legs were badly damaged in the attack. Doctors were able to save his life but not his legs. Both were amputated below the knee, leaving him with no prosthetic limbs and facing an uncertain future.
Habibah says she wishes she could have traded her own life for Zaher's, a common sentiment among Sudanese mothers of children injured in the conflict. But doctors say there are other ways to help them.
At school, Zaher clings to his football dreams despite having lost the use of both legs. His classmates play on without him but they're still playing, albeit slowly and with difficulty.
"I wish they could just fix me," Zaher says. "So I could walk home and go to school." But for now, he's left limping on his knees, watching his friends laugh and play football as if nothing had changed.
The trauma is far-reaching, affecting not only Zaher but the entire community. Children have been forced to drop out of school due to fear or financial constraints. Families are torn apart by displacement and violence. The war has stolen their childhoods, leaving them with an uncertain future.
As schools reopen in Sudan's shattered cities, there's a glimmer of hope for these young minds to rediscover the joy of learning. But without safe places to play and grow, it seems that some wounds will never fully heal.
Zaher's world has been turned upside down since his family fled their home about 200km south-west of Khartoum in search of safety from fighting between government forces and paramilitary groups known as the Rapid Support Forces. The force took everything they owned, leaving them with nothing but their lives. Zaher and his mother, Habibah, had to sell lentils on the streets just to survive.
One morning, a drone struck while Habibah was working alongside her son. Zaher's legs were badly damaged in the attack. Doctors were able to save his life but not his legs. Both were amputated below the knee, leaving him with no prosthetic limbs and facing an uncertain future.
Habibah says she wishes she could have traded her own life for Zaher's, a common sentiment among Sudanese mothers of children injured in the conflict. But doctors say there are other ways to help them.
At school, Zaher clings to his football dreams despite having lost the use of both legs. His classmates play on without him but they're still playing, albeit slowly and with difficulty.
"I wish they could just fix me," Zaher says. "So I could walk home and go to school." But for now, he's left limping on his knees, watching his friends laugh and play football as if nothing had changed.
The trauma is far-reaching, affecting not only Zaher but the entire community. Children have been forced to drop out of school due to fear or financial constraints. Families are torn apart by displacement and violence. The war has stolen their childhoods, leaving them with an uncertain future.
As schools reopen in Sudan's shattered cities, there's a glimmer of hope for these young minds to rediscover the joy of learning. But without safe places to play and grow, it seems that some wounds will never fully heal.