መንገዷ | Her Path

A monthly spotlight on girls overcoming barriers

Yodit's Journey: Internally Displaced Youth

by Claire Schreder

Harar By Rod Waddington from Kergunyah, Australia - City Gate, Harar Jugol, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=36667642

Fifteen-year-old Yodit was born and raised in Harar, a historic city nestled in eastern Ethiopia. Known as the “City of Saints,” Harar is a UNESCO World Heritage Site celebrated for its rich Islamic heritage, ancient walled architecture, and vibrant culture. For centuries, the city has stood as a symbol of spiritual identity and coexistence. But in recent years, Harar has become a place of uncertainty. Rising ethnic tensions and regional conflict have transformed once peaceful neighborhoods into zones of fear, causing many families to flee in search of safety.

Yodit is among the growing population of internally displaced youth in Ethiopia. Her childhood, already marked by emotional hardship, was further disrupted by political unrest. Her parents divorced before she was a year old, leaving her mother to raise her alone. Without consistent financial support, her mother turned to the traditional craft of making and selling injera, the spongy flatbread found on nearly every Ethiopian table. Though modest, this trade kept food on their table—at least in the early years.

Yodit’s relationship with her father has been a source of deep emotional pain. She met him only once—briefly, in the first grade. “My dad came to see me when I was in grade one,” she recalls. “But he didn’t really want to see me. He only came because the neighbors told him he should visit his child.” That moment, though fleeting, left a lasting scar. The experience reinforced a feeling of abandonment that would shape her emotional landscape in the years to come. The absence of paternal love led to feelings of unworthiness and isolation—feelings that became even more difficult to manage as challenges mounted.

A home in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.

Four years ago, the violence in Harar reached a tipping point. Yodit and her mother were forced to leave their home behind and relocate to Addis Ababa. At first, they stayed with relatives, then with Yodit’s godmother. But temporary shelter was never a solution. Eventually, they found a small home near a school in Addis, and her mother began working tirelessly as a door-to-door laundry worker and local caterer. It was physically demanding work with inconsistent pay—but it was enough to give Yodit some semblance of stability. For a while, there was hope.

That fragile hope was shattered when her mother developed a serious, bone-related condition in her foot. The illness left her bedridden for months. With her unable to walk, let alone work, their only source of income disappeared. Rent went unpaid. Medical costs piled up. Meals were skipped. The emotional and financial weight on Yodit was crushing. Though some neighbors tried to offer small acts of kindness, extended family withdrew support completely—even blocking their calls.

This kind of social abandonment is not uncommon. In times of crisis, women and children—especially single mothers and their daughters—often become invisible. The traditional safety nets that should have caught Yodit and her mother instead unraveled beneath them.

Yodit found herself taking on the dual role of caregiver and student. She began missing school. Her grades slipped. She often went to class hungry, her mind filled with worry about her mother’s condition, unpaid rent, and whether they’d be evicted. Her confidence plummeted. She began to believe the worst about herself—that she was unloved, unworthy, and alone.

“I felt like there was no one I could count on,” she said. “Even when I was around people, I felt invisible.”

Eventually, the toll on her mental health was too great. Yodit missed a full month of school. Depression, fatigue, and the effects of untreated trauma made it nearly impossible to keep up. She was on the verge of dropping out entirely.

Four students participate in a small-group tutoring session.

This is where Studio Samuel Girls Academy stepped in.

Studio Samuel Girls Academy’s community-based model is designed to identify and support girls at risk of falling through the cracks. When the team learned of Yodit’s situation, immediate steps were taken. She was enrolled in counseling sessions, where she could begin to process the emotional burdens she had carried for far too long. With the guidance of a trained therapist, Yodit started rebuilding her sense of self-worth—learning to separate her circumstances from her identity.

At the same time, she began receiving academic tutoring to help her recover from the lost month of school. Teachers worked closely with her to fill in the gaps, reviewing lessons and creating a tailored plan to catch her up. Studio Samuel Girls Academy ensured that she didn’t just stay in school—but that she could thrive there.

Learning basic sewing skills by making a reusable menstrual kit.

Recognizing the family’s financial emergency, Studio Samuel Girls Academy also introduced Yodit to the Reusable Menstrual Kit Production program—a student-led initiative where girls are trained to sew and assemble sustainable menstrual hygiene kits. Yodit took to sewing quickly. For the first time in months, she saw a way to contribute to her household’s income while gaining a valuable job skill.

More than just a stop-gap income solution, this program gave Yodit a renewed sense of agency and purpose. It allowed her to step into her own power—not as a burden, but as a contributor. She now looks forward to the summer months, when she’ll continue training in embroidery and sewing, supporting both her household and the larger community of girls who benefit from the kits.

Outside the classroom, Yodit finds strength in the Studio’s enrichment activities. Karate has given her confidence, and art has helped her heal. Through Studio Samuel Girls Academy’s Drama Club, she’s learned how to express herself and connect with others. These creative outlets have become essential to her healing and self-expression.

Despite all she has faced, Yodit’s future is bright. Her favorite subject is mathematics, and she dreams of becoming an architect.

Yodit’s journey is far from over. There are still challenges ahead. But with consistent access to education, emotional support, and employable skills, she is no longer defined by hardship. She is becoming a young woman who knows her worth—and who believes in the power of her own voice.

Yodit’s story is a powerful reminder that when we invest in girls, we ignite change that ripples through families, communities, and future generations. It also underscores the importance of programs rooted in the community, designed not to foster dependency—but to build resilience, restore dignity, and amplify the voice of every girl.

At Studio Samuel Girls Academy, we believe every girl deserves that opportunity. And thanks to supporters like you, Yodit’s path is no longer shaped by fear, but by hope, purpose, and possibility.