I was born and raised in Sudan, a country I loved despite its constant state of conflict. Growing up, my sister and I found safety in our family’s small home, while my parents worked hard to shield us from the worst of the violence. They dreamed of us pursuing an education and a future of possibilities, even though the world around us was filled with uncertainty.

In 2012, as the fighting intensified and we felt the conflict drawing dangerously close, my parents made the painful decision that we could no longer stay. With heavy hearts, my sister and I left our parents behind, knowing they would stay to protect our home. We carried little with us except our family’s dreams, hoping for a future where we could reunite.

Our journey south was challenging, especially because we had no clear destination. We traveled with other families and neighbors, all seeking the same safety. Along the way, we encountered many kind strangers who shared their food and offered guidance. One such stranger arranged for us to cross the Nile on a small boat, a terrifying yet necessary step to reach safety. The river crossing was overwhelming, as none of us had experience navigating water. We huddled together on that small boat, each hoping for a safe passage to the other side.

Once we crossed into South Sudan, we found temporary shelter with other refugees. Eventually, we joined a larger group that managed to secure a bus heading toward Kenya. After days on that bus, we finally reached Kakuma Refugee Camp. The exhaustion from the journey felt endless, but relief washed over me when we finally arrived.

Kakuma has turned into a place of unexpected meetings and optimism. Not long after coming, I was happy to locate my older brother, who too had escaped from Sudan several years ago. I, along with my sister, somehow discovered the courage to start again. My older brother urged me to concentrate on my studies, aiming for the dreams which our parents had for us.

In a way, life in Kakuma has been a combination of suffering and survival. I ache inside for my parents and, every day, I look forward to seeing them again. However, I have been uplifting myself with education and acquiring new skills that enabled me to re-people the society which assisted us in reconstruction. Kakuma has turned out to be a land of hope for me and I work hard to fulfill the dreams of my family and make the best use of the life they gave up everything for.

 

My Journey as a Digital Artist

 

Embracing Faith and Creativity in Kakuma

My name is Konigo, and I am a digital artist based in Kakuma, where vibrant stories of faith and resilience inspire my every stroke. I’ve always been captivated by art, but in this camp, where life's hardships and hopes intertwine, I felt a deep calling—to create spiritual images that connect people to their faith and provide solace in times of struggle.

I wanted to be a digital artist because it allowed me to bring spirituality to life in a modern way. Growing up, I was drawn to the images of Jesus and biblical stories depicted in old paintings. But these works, as beautiful as they were, often felt distant—culturally, emotionally, and visually. As I watched Kakuma transform into a melting pot of people and cultures, I dreamed of crafting art that reflected our shared faith through a lens of diversity, bringing those ancient stories into a form people here could feel connected to.

When I first came across resources like MidJourney, it was like a gift from heaven. I was able to merge traditional methodologies with new age technologies. I was able to depict Jesus in the picture walking with children that resembled my neighbors, Lazarus in the image leaping up from his coffin in the center of some people of our society, and Mary in the picture looking with such grief, which every person who has lost someone dear knows. These images appear to be very active; they capture our common pain and expectation and direct it to God.

How This Opportunity is Changing My Life

A career as a digital artist, to my surprise, has offered opportunities that I wasn’t sure existed in Kakuma. For a long time, I have been looking for ways to utilize my creative skills in the actual sense. Existence in the camp is narrowly focused on sustenance, with no allowance made for wishing to pursue artistic interests. But becoming a part of the world of digital art has been an eye opening experience for me and has made me optimistic of the future.

This was a great chance for me to make money while practicing a career I’m passionate about. By selling prints, reaching out to churches, humanitarian organizations, and individuals who helped me earn a living for my family, I was able to help myself. The income I have earned has also enabled me to purchase more advanced tools and acquire new skills that have enhanced my art. It’s empowering to know that my work can have both a spiritual impact and practical benefits.

As a woman in Kakuma, this journey has also helped me break traditional barriers. In a community where women’s roles are often confined to the household, my work demonstrates that creativity and technology can open new doors for women. Other women have started reaching out to me, asking how they too can explore digital tools and pursue artistic dreams. This has inspired me to share my knowledge and encourage them to believe in their own potential.

Finally, as a digital artist, I am enabled to interact and be part of the global community. Various platforms that promote my piece of work have allowed me to convey the distinct stories and viewpoints that Kakuma camp exhibits. I find it gratifying to know that some images that I make in this camp are viewed in different countries making conversation regarding faith, hope, and resilience. This feeling of belonging helps me inject meaning to my art that transcends the confines of the camp.

This opportunity has not only transformed my life but also made me realize how art can be a medium to influence and empower. Every image that I make is a step closer to actualizing a great vision – a vision not merely for myself but for the people close to me.