\n<\/p>\n
\u201cW<\/span>hen can I go back to school?\u201d That\u2019s the first question many children across Latin America start their day with. For millions in the region, there\u2019s often no guarantee that their school will be open, accessible or safe that day.<\/p>\n Classrooms caught in crossfire, hours-long walks and buildings destroyed by natural disasters are just some of the obstacles children face. On top of that, extreme poverty and displacement force many to drop out.<\/p>\n Even when school is out of reach, children have an innate desire to learn. They turn bedrooms into study spaces, long walks into daily routines and ruins into classrooms. Whether it is sharing textbooks with friends, scraping together coins for a school uniform or leaving their homes to stay in remote boarding schools, their determination propels them on to find ways to keep learning.<\/p>\n In these portraits, Chris de Bode captures how children and their communities, even in the face of conflict, disaster or poverty, hold on to education. The series highlights children\u2019s unwavering drive to learn.<\/p>\n Plan International\u2019s Safe Schools project includes catch-up classes to bridge learning gaps, financial support for children at risk of dropping out, awareness sessions for parents and physical changes to make schools safer, such as reinforced construction, evacuation drills and training for teachers. The project is supported by the EU.<\/p>\n Nine-year-old Abri uses her unicorn, Caba, to express her feelings. \u201cHe knows all my secrets,\u201d she says. Moreover, during the recent gang violence in Ecuador, she continues, \u201cCaba was scared when the criminals escaped.\u201d<\/p>\n Abri mostly stays inside the house, due to insecurity and the risk of mugging or robbery. She and her mother left Cuba in hopes of improving their life circumstances in Ecuador. Her mother works long hours to afford the school bus and other educational materials, leaving Abri by herself, and says loneliness has begun to affect her. At school, Abri finds it difficult to focus and interact with her new classmates. \u201cIn Cuba, I played in the park all the time. Here, I don\u2019t have many friends,\u201d she says. \u201cThat is why I play with Caba.\u201d<\/p>\n In a country where sexual harassment at schools is widespread and sex education is limited, Erika\u2019s parents fear that a teenage pregnancy could derail her dreams of going to university.<\/p>\n Sexual and gender-based violence is a longstanding, pervasive problem in Ecuador\u2019s schools. Reports indicate that over the last decade, thousands of cases of sexual violence have been documented, involving teachers, school staff and even students. Walking to school as a girl comes with its own set of risks too. Every day, 12-year-old Erika is accompanied by her father. \u201cThere was one day when I had to go by myself, and a motorcycle followed me,\u201d she recalls. \u201cThe driver cut me off and tried to grab me. It was really scary.\u201d<\/p>\n Erika\u2019s father is worried about his daughter\u2019s future, not only because of the risk of violence but also the lack of sex education. \u201cIt\u2019s like schools here are afraid to teach children about their bodies. But it would prevent many teenage pregnancies,\u201d he says. \u201cMy biggest concern is that this could happen to Erika too. She knows what she wants: to study and to succeed. We hope she can go to a university.\u201d<\/p>\n Displaced from Venezuela, 11-year-old Saray and her family struggle to make ends meet. While Saray, her parents and siblings have found safety in Ecuador, generating income is a constant battle, as her father relies on an informal job.<\/p>\n Saray is the only one of her siblings who goes to school and her entire family works to support her education. Paying for the textbooks and uniforms remains a burden, Saray explains: \u201cWe need a new notebook for each subject but we can only afford one.\u201d Without the proper materials, she risks failing courses.<\/p>\n In addition to textbooks, the school requires three different uniforms: \u201cA formal one for Mondays, a sports uniform and a regular one,\u201d she says. Ultimately, the school psychologist eased some of the family\u2019s financial strain by helping them obtain secondhand uniforms.<\/p>\n Her family hopes that she will become a lawyer and break the cycle of poverty. \u201cIt\u2019s a long shot,\u201d her mother admits. \u201cBut I am motivated,\u201d Saray says.<\/p>\n Despite daily struggles with a failing motorbike and financial hardship, Yulitza, 16, travels hours to attend a better school.<\/p>\n An old, barely functioning motorbike with a flimsy sidecar is the only chance Yulitza has for a quality education. Every day, she and her brother make a journey of an hour and a half to school on the motorcycle that once belonged to their uncle. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to go to the schools near my village,\u201d Yulitza says. \u201cThere are too few teachers. And even when they\u2019re present, they often don\u2019t teach. Sometimes they send the students home early, like at 1pm, while school is supposed to go until three.\u201d<\/p>\n The family depends on the motorbike, which consumes about 30 soles (\u00a36.30) worth of fuel each week. There\u2019s not enough money for maintenance, partly because the little income the family has goes towards school supplies.<\/p>\n To help her stay in school, Yulitza receives financial support from Plan International. The organisation also works to raise awareness about the importance of education through sessions with parents. She also takes part in awareness sessions, helping her stay focused on her education. \u201cI want to be so many things,\u201d she says. \u201cRight now, I\u2019m thinking about becoming a psychologist, a doctor or a teacher. Or maybe an accountant.\u201d<\/p>\n Growing up in a community that grapples with extreme poverty and lacks basic services, Greysi\u2019s family struggled to afford food and rent, let alone school materials. \u201cThat\u2019s why I decided I should take matters into my own hands\u201d, says the now 13-year-old, with a maturity far beyond her years. Greysi started selling glasses of wobbly gelatine and crushed ice at village meetings two years ago. \u201cFrom what I sold, I invested in new products, like cookies and soda. My sales got better and better, so I decided to open my own shop.\u201d Standing in front of her little store in an informal settlement in one of the most marginal neighbourhoods in northern Peru, she proudly talks about the growth of her small business.<\/p>\n \u201cWith the money that\u2019s left, I buy school supplies for me and my little sisters. And I try to save up for university.\u201d Higher education is out of reach for most students in Peru, Greysi realises, and that motivates her to expand her shop. \u201cI want to be a lawyer, but university is extremely expensive. That\u2019s why I save as much as possible. And I teach my little sisters to do the same.\u201d<\/p>\n Stalin, 14, lives in a sandy, remote village in the northern region of Peru. Every day, he rolls up his trousers and wades through the river on his way to school. During the rainy season, which normally runs from March to April, high water levels force him to stay at home. \u201cThe current of the water is strong, and sometimes people die after being pulled away by the current,\u201d he says. \u201cIt\u2019s too risky.\u201d When it rains, Stalin misses weeks of school. In recent years, the rainy season has lasted longer and the storms have become more intense. \u201cI fall behind my classmates,\u201d he admits. \u201cI\u2019m the only one who has to cross the river. I feel like I\u2019m missing too many classes. It sucks.\u201d<\/p>\n The months of rain not only affect Stalin\u2019s route to school but also the school\u2019s infrastructure.<\/p>\n \u201cSometimes the rain comes through the school roofs. Then we get classes via WhatsApp. But at home, we don\u2019t have any connection when it rains.\u201d<\/p>\n Supported by Plan International\u2019s project, which includes extra classes, Stalin is catching up on part of his learning gap. \u201cI need more help in class, especially in math, to keep up with my classmates. I hope to be at the same level as them again.\u201d<\/p>\n In Colombia\u2019s Choc\u00f3 region, where continuing conflict often confines students to their homes, Samuel struggles to keep up. While relying on his father\u2019s phone and limited electricity to study, he longs to return to school.<\/p>\n \u201cI really want to go to school every day,\u201d says Samuel. Sometimes, he has no other option than to stay at home because it is too unsafe outside for children. When forced to stay at home, Samuel receives his lessons via WhatsApp on his dad\u2019s mobile phone. However, when his dad goes to work, Samuel is unable to study. This is just one of the many reasons he is eager to be in school. \u201cI want my teacher to explain things and to have someone to review and correct my exercises,\u201d Samuel says.<\/p>\n In Colombia, gender inequality continues to push girls like 16-year-old Yili out of school, as the burden of domestic work and caregiving often falls on them.<\/p>\n Yili describes how girls in Colombia often do domestic work to pay for an education. \u201cFor the past few years, I worked in people\u2019s homes to earn money for school supplies,\u201d she says. Balancing work, school, housework and caring for her younger siblings eventually caused Yili to drop out: \u201cI failed two subjects and was not allowed to go back to school.\u201d<\/p>\n Yili notes that it is often girls who drop out. \u201cI have more boys than girls in my class. Another challenge is girls getting pregnant. It happened to one of my best friends. She dropped out of school and couldn\u2019t find a job. Now she stays home with her baby.\u201d<\/p>\n With support from Plan International\u2019s back-to-school programme, Yili was able to resume her education. She still does homework while helping her mother at home, but the financial support allows her to devote more time to her studies. \u201cIf I had to do housework all my life, I would be so bored. That\u2019s why I want to go to school. Physics and chemistry, and learning new things, that\u2019s what I love.\u201d<\/p>\n It takes Brayan two hours to get to school each day. His route is not without risks. \u201cThe road I take is long and muddy, especially when it rains. Sometimes there are dangerous snakes on the road,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n These issues contribute to school dropouts in Indigenous communities in the Colombian region of Choc\u00f3, as families often live far from regular schools.<\/p>\n Brayan explains: \u201cI need to walk a long way to the terminal and then take the bus to school. I often go without breakfast. When I am late, I often cannot enter the class any more.\u201d<\/p>\n Because bus tickets are too expensive for Brayan\u2019s family to afford every day, he sometimes stays at home.<\/p>\n His journey to school is further complicated by the need to take care of his school uniform. \u201cMy father had to sell our chickens to purchase it. That\u2019s why I cannot damage or stain it. When boys in my class play football at school, I don\u2019t play along because I am afraid to rip my pants,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n Every day, Leandro, who is 11 years old, walks along the side of the Pan-American Highway to school. \u201cCars drive really fast and there are no speed bumps. The path I walk is very narrow in some places,\u201d he says. Not too long ago, there was a fatal accident on the road. \u201cEspecially when I am by myself, I feel like I could get hit easily.\u201d<\/p>\n Sometimes Leandro takes the bus to school. \u201cBut only if the bus comes. It doesn\u2019t come often,\u201d he says. \u201cNext year, no one knows if the school bus will still run.\u201d Despite the risks, Leandro goes to school each day. \u201cAt least I can still go to school. It takes me about 30 minutes. But if the bus stops running, some of my classmates won\u2019t come to class any more.\u201d<\/p>\n Leandro and his family migrated from Argentina and now live in Bolivia, close to the southern border. He notices differences in the education system. \u201cIn Argentina, the school supplies and classrooms were better,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n The road to school is not only dangerous because of traffic, it also runs alongside steep cliffs. \u201cSometimes there are landslides and hail storms around here,\u201d Leandro says.<\/p>\n Sisters Carla and Janet attend a distant boarding school because there are no high schools near their home town. The school\u2019s poor living conditions, and feelings of loneliness and isolation make life difficult for the sisters.<\/p>\n Carla says: \u201cOnly kids from distant places come here. I really miss my father and brother. My dad struggles to pay for our school costs. Because meals are included here and we don\u2019t have to travel to school, going to a boarding school is more affordable.\u201d<\/p>\n After their mother unexpectedly died, Carla had to leave school. \u201cI didn\u2019t go to school for two years to help my dad with chores and take care of the family,\u201d she says. \u201cAfter a while, he saved up enough money so I could go back to school.\u201d<\/p>\n Carla and Janet still struggle to afford the clothing for school. Luckily people in the village organised a fair to raise money, Carla says: \u201cWe used that money to buy uniforms. Without a uniform, you can\u2019t go to school.\u201d<\/p>\n For Violeta, who is 11, school is a vital refuge: a place where she feels safe and inspired to dream of becoming a ballerina, in contrast with the risks she faces on her daily journey. She pictures herself performing on a stage. \u201cI hope to be in a ballet,\u201d she says. \u201cWhen we dance at school, I wear this hat. I feel relaxed when dancing.\u201d School is a place where Violeta feels secure and happy.<\/p>\n However, travelling to school is a different story. Violeta travels along a path through the woods to get to school. Many children in her community walk this path but for girls, it can represent an additional risk. \u201cSometimes there are drunk people on the road,\u201d she says. \u201cWhen I don\u2019t walk with my brother, they try to harass girls like me. It is less safe for a girl.\u201d<\/p>\n In Bolivia\u2019s southernmost region of Tarija, single mother Dalita, 37, works long hours selling goods to ensure her children can stay in school, despite mounting medical bills and the high cost of education.<\/p>\n With only a small income from her shop, she is afraid she cannot afford schooling. Still, she keeps her chin up for her children. Like many women in Bolivia, Dalita is raising her children by herself. This is a reality for many families across the country. \u201cI am like a mother and father to them,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n \u201cThe school asks for a lot of books, supplies and uniforms,\u201d Dalita says. \u201cI try to manage but I have to do it step by step. I can\u2019t buy everything at once.\u201d<\/p>\n To ensure her children can stay in school, Dalita works long hours. She sells her shop goods in the streets from six in the morning until eight at night, hoping to sell enough to take care of her children. \u201cI\u2019m not the kind of mom who gives up,\u201d she says. \u201cI would sacrifice anything for them, just to make sure they can stay in school.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cWhen can I go back to school?\u201d That\u2019s the first question many children across Latin America start their day with. For millions in the region, there\u2019s often no guarantee that their school will be open, accessible or safe that day. Classrooms caught in crossfire, hours-long walks and buildings destroyed by natural disasters are just some<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":19629,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[57],"tags":[574,947,1066,496,3349,1562,11346,8600,334],"class_list":{"0":"post-19628","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-education","8":"tag-america","9":"tag-communities","10":"tag-danger","11":"tag-education","12":"tag-essay","13":"tag-hold","14":"tag-latin","15":"tag-picture","16":"tag-school"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19628","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=19628"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19628\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/19629"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=19628"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=19628"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/naijaglobalnews.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=19628"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}