War in Sudan has forged a deeply complex educational landscape, reshaping lives and livelihoods alike. Yet those who have borne its harshest consequences are students in Darfur and Kordofan, who have fallen behind on sitting the Sudan National Secondary School Examinations (SNSSE) throughout years of conflict. The shifting frontlines and prolonged school closures have deprived them not only of access to exams in their own regions, but also of safe passage to areas where exams were held, forcing them to confront dangers far beyond their control.
On March 13, the National Initiative to Support the SNSSE, established in February by a coalition of education advocates, teachers, academics and civil society actors, submitted a memorandum addressed to the Sudanese public. In it, the group called for postponing the 2026 examinations and urged the pursuit of practical solutions to reintegrate students who were barred from sitting previous exams due to the war. The initiative has engaged with the “Hope” government in the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF)-controlled areas, as well as with the administration formed by the Tasis alliance in Nyala, seeking viable pathways to enable excluded students to take the exams. It has also presented a number of supporting documents, including a civil society charter and other proposals.
In this interview we posed our questions to Dr Siddig Ambada, an economist whose scholarship has long bridged the intersections of economy, development and education in Sudan.
We met him in his capacity as a member of the initiative, to speak about its aspirations, the steps it has taken, and the broader prospects for education in Sudan.
Umbadda earned his Ph.D. in Economics from the University of London in 1979. He previously served as an associate professor at the University of Khartoum and as head of the Economics Department at the Faculty of Economic and Social Studies. His career also includes roles as a senior economist at the African Development Bank in Abidjan, director of the Poverty Support Fund at the Arab Authority for Agricultural Investment and Development, director of research at the Mamoun Beheiry Center, and a researcher on education and development issues.
His published works in Arabic include: The Pen of Education and the Burden of the Educated – Essays on Education and Development (2017), The State of General Education in Sudan and the Challenges of Reform (2015), Development as the Key to Peace in Darfur (2004), A Guide to Civil Service Leaders in Sudan, 1954–1989 (1991), and Higher Education Admission Policies in Sudan” (1988).
You launched an initiative in mid-March to address the crisis surrounding the SNSSE, particularly in Darfur, Kordofan and other regions. What does this initiative seek to achieve at this moment? How did it take shape in practical terms?
I can say this initiative reflects the notion that it is better late than never. Its central aim is to shine a spotlight on the SNSSE and on the students who have been unable to sit for them in recent years, beginning with the first year of the war, followed by two subsequent years marked by persistent disruption. We believe it is essential to reintegrate those who have fallen behind in Kordofan, Darfur and Blue Nile into the examination process. Many of these areas are under the control of the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), leaving students with no option but to travel to government-held areas to take the exams, after delays that have now stretched into two or three years. They had been on the verge of sitting their exams in April 2023, the very month the war erupted, when the examinations were postponed. The initiative’s primary objective, therefore, is to ensure that these deprived students are enabled to sit for the exams and catch up wherever possible.
The initiative did not emerge from a political aspect or a formal institutional framework. Rather, it began with a group of individuals bound by a shared concern for education and a deep sense of responsibility toward students under the current conditions. Among them were professors such as Shams El-Din Daw Al-Bayt and Al-Tahir Badr El-Din Khalid, who took the lead in opening channels of communication with others engaged in education—academics, teachers and civil society actors.
The initiative is driven by a simple yet profoundly significant idea: education is a fundamental right and should neither be disrupted by war.
As discussions progressed, the circle steadily expanded, drawing in a large number of participants, likely exceeding one hundred in its early stages. What united them was a clear humanitarian impulse and a shared conviction that a genuine threat loomed over the future of an entire generation if no action was taken. It is important to underscore that the initiative was never, at any point, tied to a political agenda or alignment; rather, it arose as a direct response to an urgent, existing crisis that demanded immediate intervention.
In this context, the Teachers Committee played a pivotal role. Its members possess the deepest understanding of the technical dimensions of the examinations, as they are integral to the education process and closely engaged in its day-to-day specifications. They know precisely how the SNSSE are designed, secured, administered and supervised, in addition to overseeing marking and the announcement of results. These are not matters that can be handled superficially or in purely theoretical terms; they require practical expertise accumulated over many years. The presence of teachers within the initiative thus gave it a clear operational dimension, helping transform it from a conceptual discussion into a workable proposal.
At its core, the initiative is driven by a simple yet profoundly significant idea: education is a fundamental right and should neither be disrupted by war nor placed on hold because of it. Students bear no responsibility for the conflict and should not be forced to pay the price with their futures. From this premise emerged the need to devise a practical solution that guarantees them a fair opportunity to sit for the examinations. This is not about a single academic cohort, but an entire generation that must not be left behind due to circumstances beyond its control. Education is not a luxury that can be deferred; it is a necessity. Preserving it, even under such complex conditions, lays a critical foundation for Sudan’s future.
Have you opened channels of communication with both sides to reach solutions? What level of response have you observed from them?
We have, of course, established contact with the “Hope” government in Port Sudan and with the “Tasis” administration in Nyala, through two separate liaison committees. We reached out to individuals of varying levels of influence within the Hope government, including the PM, Dr. Kamil Idris and others. However, to date, we have not received a clear or substantive response, and we continue to seek engagement with the authorities responsible for political decision-making on this matter.
On the other side, we have contacted the Tasis administration, and efforts are underway to convene a meeting with them to discuss specific details or address any questions they may have regarding the initiative. In my view, if either party raises reservations, we will work to address them. We have proposed the formation of a technical, non-political, committee to resolve issues related to exam sitting, design, security, delivery and supervision. We intend to present each side’s concerns to the other, ensuring that any solution put forward by the technical committee is both logically sound and practically viable, without compromising the terms or reservations of either party.
Ultimately, we are actors who put forward proposals, respond to questions and offer solutions wherever possible. Despite an initial degree of responsiveness from the government formed by the Tasis alliance, the issue remains complex and cannot be resolved easily or in a short time. We must remain realistic.
How do you assess the impact of the political factor on the issue of the SNSSE?
The political dimension became more pronounced with the emergence of two separate examination tracks, as one side announced plans to hold exams in April while another set a date in June. This development was not merely a difference in scheduling; it created a highly complex reality and raised fundamental questions: will there be two parallel education systems? Will the results of both examinations be recognized? And what becomes of students who may find themselves caught between these two paths?
In this context, the initiative’s rationale became even clearer, positioning itself as an effort to avert such fragmentation and to formulate a shared framework that safeguards students’ rights. The premise was straightforward in concept yet significant in principle: if understandings can be reached on other issues—such as the flow of petroleum—despite political divisions, then it is even more imperative to seek consensus on education, given that it affects society as a whole.
Ultimately, the success of any such pathway hinges on the presence of political will. If that will exists, solutions remain within reach, particularly as there are precedents where agreements have been achieved in other sectors. This underscores that consensus, in principle, is possible and can extend to education as well. In the end, however, we do not hold decision-making authority; we put forward a proposal and hope it will be given serious consideration.
With the announced mid-April examination date approaching, what practical proposal are you putting forward at this stage? Are you calling for a postponement, a restructuring, or an alternative framework?
As you know, the “Hope” government has decided to proceed with examinations this April, while the “Peace” government—Tasis—is preparing to hold its exams in June, according to its announcement. Our position is to advocate for a unified examination across areas under the control of both sides.
It is clear, however, that postponing the April examinations is now extremely difficult, given the limited time and the challenges of coordinating with the various relevant parties involved. Our efforts began in mid-February, and we had hoped to reach the relevant authorities swiftly to secure agreement on a delay. In light of this, we now see the most practical solution as organizing an alternative examination at the earliest possible time for students who were unable to sit, within their own regions.
The number of students unable to sit for the examinations is estimated at between 250,000 and 280,000.
There are precedents within the SNSSE system that can be drawn upon. The current solution, therefore, is to administer a substitute exam with the same standards and quality, at a mutually agreed time. The initiative’s proposal also depends on continued engagement with all stakeholders, ensuring that delayed students can sit for the exams where they are. This approach is the outcome of extensive deliberation and prior experience.
In reality, the number of students deprived of sitting the examinations is significant—estimated by some observers to range between 250,000 and 280,000. Relocating them is highly impractical, not least because of the associated security and financial costs. Our aim is to enable students to take the exams while their families remain reassured about their safety, within the environments in which they live. We have consulted technical bodies with varied international experience, and we believe this to be the most reasonable proposal. It is simply not feasible to transport such large groups to a single location for examinations, particularly given the security situation and the rising costs of travel and movement.
What are your expectations if the parties fail to reach an agreement?
If no agreement is reached, it is likely that each side will proceed with conducting its examinations independently. However, this does not mean the initiative would lose its relevance or come to a halt. Rather, it could evolve into a broader framework for addressing education issues in general, as the crisis extends beyond examinations alone to include school closures, teachers’ conditions, and the large number of students who have been pushed out of the education system altogether.
In such a scenario, the impact on students would be substantial, particularly if certificates are not mutually recognized. Students may find themselves with limited options, or holding qualifications that are not acknowledged in certain regions or institutions, thereby deepening uncertainty and placing them in an increasingly complex situation. It is therefore essential to work toward avoiding this outcome, or at the very least mitigating its consequences as much as possible.
What are the potential risks if students continue to be deprived of sitting for examinations?
The risks are extremely serious and are not confined to the educational sphere alone. A student who is denied the opportunity to sit for exams for a year or more through no fault of their own may experience deep frustration, which can accumulate and eventually turn into a loss of hope. In some cases, this may push young people toward negative or unsafe pathways. Education therefore plays a crucial role as a form of social protection, offering youth a sense of direction and keeping them engaged in a constructive and productive trajectory.
Some have proposed relocating students to safe areas to sit for examinations. Do you consider this a viable solution?
This may be appropriate in certain limited cases, but it does not constitute a general solution. There are numerous challenges, including high costs, security risks associated with travel, and significant logistical difficulties. There are also social considerations, particularly regarding female students, as families may be unwilling to send them long distances under unstable conditions. For these reasons, the most realistic option remains attempting to hold examinations where students are located, rather than relocating them elsewhere, though even this option is not without its own challenges.
Can international organizations play a role in this file?
Yes. They can play an important role, particularly in logistical and technical aspects. Contact has been made with entities such as UNICEF, the European Union, and several United Nations agencies, all of which have extensive experience in addressing education issues in conflict settings. However, these organizations typically do not intervene unless there is a degree of consensus between local parties. Their role could include providing technical support, helping secure examinations, facilitating transportation, and contributing to organizational arrangements. That said, they cannot impose a solution, nor should they be viewed as a substitute for national decision-making.
You noted that between 250,000 and 280,000 students have been deprived of sitting for examinations. How did you arrive at these estimates amid the difficulties of accessing certain areas? Do you have any information on where these excluded students are located, especially since some of them have fled to neighbouring countries such as Chad, Uganda and others?
As you know, war often makes it impossible to access reliable data or verify information with certainty. These figures are therefore estimates. They are based on the number of students who did not sit for the most recent examination sessions and subsequent cohorts. I cannot definitively confirm their accuracy, but they are widely referenced by several entities, including committees operating in different regions such as emergency rooms, education-focused committees, and teachers’ unions. In my view, it remains an approximate figure, but one that is reasonable and consistent with developments over recent years.
Given the large and constantly shifting patterns of displacement across the country, the destruction of schools, and the conversion of some of them into shelters for displaced people, as well as ongoing changes even in relatively safe areas, it is extremely difficult to determine the whereabouts of these students. Under normal circumstances, such identification would be straightforward. However, we are relying on the relevant authorities, should they adopt our initiative, to help register students and determine their locations.
The students in question are those most affected by the war, particularly in areas under the control of the RSF and other contested pockets between them and the SAF in Darfur and Kordofan. As for students in neighbouring countries, some have been able to catch up and sit for examinations organized there, whether in Chad, Uganda or elsewhere.
The essence of the initiative, however, is to enable students who have not yet been examined to sit for the exams in a manner to be agreed upon from a technical standpoint. By this, I mean that the technical details are left to dialogue with specialized technical bodies capable of addressing the problem in a comprehensive way. As I have said, the initiative is primarily concerned with students inside Sudan, particularly in contested areas where security conditions remain insufficient.
How do you respond to the criticism that the initiative’s proposals are overly idealistic given the current reality?
At first glance, this characterization may appear accurate, particularly when considering the scale of the existing political and military complexities. However, in my view, if we do not attempt to put forward solutions—even if they initially seem difficult or far-fetched—we will not reach any meaningful outcome. Many of the solutions we now consider practical once began as ideas that seemed unworkable, only to evolve gradually through discussion, experimentation and refinement.
We do not claim that this initiative represents a final solution or that its success is guaranteed. Rather, it is a serious attempt that can be built upon and developed further. If there are reservations about certain aspects of it, those concerns should be clearly articulated and examined within a technical and methodical framework, rather than dismissing the idea outright. It is precisely here that the role of the technical committee becomes crucial, as it is the body capable of transforming such reservations into practical questions and, ultimately, into workable solutions on the ground.
What role can the technical committee play?
The technical committee represents a decisive element in any viable solution, as it is the body responsible for handling precise operational details. It addresses questions such as: how the examination is prepared; how it can be secured under such conditions; how it is distributed across multiple centres; and how the marking process is managed to ensure integrity and fairness.
In previous experiences, practical safeguards were in place, such as preparing multiple versions of the examination so that an alternative version could be used in the event of any breach or leakage. These are highly technical matters that require specialized expertise and cannot be subject to direct political decision-making, as they are governed purely by professional considerations.
Can the initiative continue even if it does not achieve its primary objective?
Yes. It can continue and may even evolve into a broader framework. In its current form, the initiative focuses on the examination issue, but at its core it opens the door to addressing deeper challenges within the education sector. It could expand to include the reopening of schools, support for teachers affected by the war, and the reintegration of students who have been pushed out of the education system, whether due to displacement, economic hardship, or security conditions.
There is strong public readiness to embrace such initiatives.
These issues are inherently interconnected and cannot be separated from one another. In my view, there is strong public readiness to embrace such initiatives, as education is a matter that affects everyone without exception. There is hardly a household without one or more students, meaning that concern for education is not an elite issue but a public one. Moreover, the diversity of backgrounds represented among the initiative’s participants reflects its independence from any single entity, which lends it credibility and makes it more widely acceptable.
In your view, does the initiative stem from a desire to affirm students’ right to sit for examinations and obtain grades that qualify them for admission to universities and higher institutes, and so on? What are the political implications of depriving these students of this right, which the initiative seeks to address, especially amid talk of national fragmentation or further deepening divisions?
This is an important and legitimate question in the current context we are enduring. As you know, education is a recognized human right enshrined in various international charters to which Sudan is a signatory. In my view, education is a right on par with food, water and air. Without education, what can a person become? No one deprived of education can contribute meaningfully to their country, to themselves, or to their family and social environment.
It is also self-evident that education provides opportunities for earning a livelihood. From this stems the critical importance of the SNSSE and the students’ right to sit for it. In developing and low-income countries, education has long been the primary pathway for people to move out of poverty into better conditions, as it opens up improved life prospects and greater social mobility.
Therefore, society, official authorities, and all parties involved in the conflict must ensure that conditions are in place for holding the SNSSE, giving these students opportunities to access limitless possibilities—first and foremost higher education, which in turn enables pathways to sustainable livelihoods. This also means that individual potential contributes to the state’s capacity for development and progress, as among these students are exceptional talents in their respective fields. This brings me to the various disparities in education and development in previous periods.
Of course, there are political implications, but we must distinguish between the political shadows of depriving students of access to examinations and education more broadly, and the fact that this initiative is primarily concerned with the human and moral right of students to sit for exams in the first place. These students bear no responsibility for the war; rather, they are its direct victims, suffering its consequences through displacement and refuge.
Depriving them of examinations sends signals about Sudan’s future, signals that are deeply tied to its past. Most of these students live and study in geographically and ethnically marginalized regions, where, historically since independence, the Sudanese state has not provided adequate education that would place them on equal footing with their peers in other parts of the country. By geographic periphery, I refer to the eastern regions, the Blue Nile, Darfur, and South Sudan prior to its independence. This is a conclusion I reached through research conducted nearly 40 years ago.
We wish that it be clarified how the disruption of the education system relates to development disparities in Sudan, especially given your own published research in this field.
In 1987, I went to the Ministry of Planning and was surprised to discover that it did not have indicators measuring development disparities across Sudan’s various regions. For me, this was almost unbelievable. How can one plan for a country without examining its different regions and establishing indicators that reflect development gaps between them, so that they can be brought closer together? If, for example, you find that the ratio of schools to population is lower in certain states, you work to raise those states to an average level, without depriving other states that already enjoy higher ratios. The same principle applies across all sectors, including health, transport, electricity, roads, and police services. Of course, this depends on available resources, budgets, and the prioritization of less advantaged regions.
In 1984, nearly forty years ago, the number of students admitted from Khartoum to the University of Khartoum’s Faculty of Medicine—one of the most competitive programs and a key pathway for upward social mobility—was roughly five times greater than the combined total from Kordofan, South Sudan, Darfur, and the Eastern Region, which together represent about 66% of the population. By 2014, according to a UNICEF report, approximately 76% of nomadic children were outside the education system, and they have largely become part of the backdrop to current developments. I have cited similar examples in my book The Pen of Education and the Burden of the Educated.
From this, I can say that continued neglect of students in the geographic periphery means a continued widening of inequality and development disparities in the country.
In my remarks at the beginning of the initiative’s press conference, I said that if people do not pay attention to these disparities and to the deprivation of continued access to education, this will, in one way or another, feed into the continuation of the war. Such deprivation opens the door for students to slip into other, undesirable paths with serious consequences, instead of opening opportunities for advancement, lifting their families out of poverty, and enabling them to contribute to building Sudan.
You cited figures from your research on disparities in development, particularly in education. Do you see these gaps as the result of deliberate policies, or as a consequence of flaws in the national state’s approach to education that extended to other sectors?
Some may argue that this was intentional. I do not believe there was a deliberate effort to engineer such outcomes. More often, it stems from short-sightedness, and perhaps from the limited representation of people from peripheral regions in positions of power. Had they been adequately represented, they might have pressed governments to grant these regions their fair share of education and development. The recurrence of this pattern across successive national governments, whether military or civilian, points to a persistent lack of strategic vision in how the state has engaged with its peripheries. It can also be described as neglect.
A telling example of flawed development thinking is the slogan “liberation, not construction,” raised by some of the founding fathers of independence.
Ideally, anyone tasked with educational planning should first identify the underlying problem and examine the basis on which schools are established, particularly given the evident mismatch between the number of schools and population sizes in several regions. At independence, the colonial administration put in place a system that successive national governments failed to reform or replace with one suited to the country’s resources and citizens’ needs. This failure extended across multiple sectors, including relations between pastoralists and farmers in Darfur and Kordofan, as well as education, health, and security. All of this is the direct result of deficient planning.
In this regard, I recall that the budgets of councils such as South Darfur and Al-Gadaref, among the highest in revenue, used to have their surpluses transferred to the central government instead of being reinvested in development, such as building additional schools, launching development projects, or similar initiatives. This occurred as a result of the lack of clear vision among national governments. The most telling example of this is the slogan “liberation, not construction,” raised by some of the founding fathers of independence—just reflect on that!
At the conclusion of this interview, what core message would you like to convey?
The fundamental message is that education must be a priority, even in times of war. It should not be treated as part of the conflict; rather, it must be insulated from it as much as possible. Students bear no responsibility for what is happening, and we must ensure they are given a fair opportunity.
We are speaking about an entire generation, and if this issue is not addressed seriously, it may have long-term consequences for society. Education does not affect individuals alone; its impact extends to the economy, stability, and the country’s future. Conversely, safeguarding education, even under these conditions, can serve as a crucial entry point for rebuilding. Therefore, this is not merely about an examination, it is about an entire future that must be protected.
