Khalid’s colors of hope: healing childhood trauma through art

At a UNICEF-supported safe space in Atbara, children are finding a way to heal from trauma and distress through the simple act of drawing. 

Known as a Makanna – which means “my space” in Arabic- this safe haven is frequented by hundreds of children from both displaced and host families. Each of them has been affected by the ongoing conflict in Sudan in one way or another. 

Here, children not only learn and play, but also express emotions too painful to put into words. With the support of trained facilitators, they are finding pathways to recovery, one drawing at a time. 

Healing through expression 

Menad, an animator and social worker, leads the art sessions and has seen firsthand the weight of war on children- especially those displaced from Khartoum and Darfur.
 
“The beginning was very hard. Even the slightest bang would send these children into panic,” she recalls.

“They would all run inside the classroom, hide under the desks, and ask: Has the war started again?”

To help them cope with fear and anxiety, she encouraged them to draw what they felt. At first, many struggled to hold a pencil or color. With encouragement, they began putting their emotions on paper. Through their drawings, Menad could see their feelings and pain—and offer the psychosocial support they needed.

The war takes away Khalid’s family

10-year-old Khalid is one of those affected most. Two years ago, Khalid fled Khartoum with his uncle. The reality of separating from his parents continues to weigh him down.

“I haven’t seen my mother and father for two years.” 

“I was sad to leave home, and I cried a lot.” 

His quest to return to school to learn led him to the UNICEF makanna where he is not only learning but healing one drawing at a time.

Khalid’s story: finding hope in colors 

When he first came to the makanna, Khalid was withdrawn—sitting alone, speaking very little, showing clear signs of distress. But little by little, drawing began to open a door.

“The first thing I did when I came here was draw,” he recalls.

Now, armed with paper, pencils, and colors provided by UNICEF, Khalid draws houses, cars, and flowers. 

“I am drawing a new house and flowers today because I miss my home and I wish to go back there,” he shares.

Pointing to one of his sketches, he explains: “This is our house in Khartoum. And this is my father’s car. When I draw our house, I think about how I will fix it when I return.”

From tanks to flowers 

The change in Khalid’s drawings reflects his healing journey.

“Before, he drew armored vehicles filled with soldiers and blood. Seeing him draw flowers and hearts today is great progress,” says Menad.

Though the road remains steep, Khalid now speaks with more confidence. He even leads presentations at the morning assembly and enjoys playing volleyball with friends.

“Whenever I get scared, I remember my mother’s words and what Menad tells me every day: Don’t be afraid,” he says with a shy smile.

When asked to draw his future, Khalid sketched a big house, his father’s car, and himself with his mother and brothers inside.

A space to heal 

Thanks to support from the German Cooperation through the KfW Development Bank, UNICEF has established makannas across Sudan. These safe spaces give children the chance to recover, play, learn, and most importantly—express emotions that are too painful to speak aloud.

Through art and drawing, children like Khalid are finding hope, resilience, and a way forward.