Formal education in the Rohingya camps is primarily managed by NGOs. Children learn only a minimal curriculum, covering a few basic classes with no opportunity to progress further. Outside of these formal initiatives, the Rohingya community has created two alternative education systems within the camps: one focused on madrasa education, and the other on private schooling. In this two-part series, we explore these two alternative educational paths. Documenting his experiences from the Rohingya camps, Mir Hojaifa Al Mamduh presents their stories. The first part of the series focuses on the madrasa education system.
Enduring Faith: The Struggle for Education and Homeland in Rohingya Camps
In 2010, Maulana Sirajul Haque arrived from the remote village of Firindong in Rakhine, Myanmar, to enroll in Dawra-e-Hadith (advanced Islamic studies) at the Hathazari Madrasa in Chittagong, Bangladesh. Siraj was not alone on this journey; nearly 40 students crossed into Bangladesh around that time, seeking advanced Islamic education. Siraj had completed his preliminary studies at the Muhammadia Qasimul Ulum Madrasa, an institution established by his grandfather, Qasim Raja, a pioneering figure in the Rohingya resistance. By then, the madrasa was already close to a century old. Siraj returned to Myanmar as soon as he completed his studies, taking up a teaching position at his grandfather’s madrasa.
Then came 2017. Siraj and his entire madrasa community, along with countless Rohingya villages, were forced to flee to Bangladesh. On arrival, he and his companions settled in a temporary camp at Camp 13. The following day, three scholars from Natore came to assess their situation. Observing their need, they promised to return with supplies. True to their word, they arrived the next day with two large tarpaulins—one for roofing, the other for flooring. Bamboo was available for purchase nearby, and with a modest 10,000 taka worth of materials, they erected a simple shelter. Thus, a small mosque was born.
Siraj reminisced, “A few of our former madrasa students were with us, so we started a madrasa right there in the camp. A week later, a scholar from Patiya Madrasa in Chittagong came, learned about our students, and returned with books three days later. We named it ‘Qasemia Madinatul Ulum’ in honor of our original madrasa.” Later, a few supporters from Hong Kong visited, offering a small sum of money, though with the disclaimer that regular financial aid wasn’t possible. That initial donation has been their only external help.
At the beginning of each academic year in Shawwal, students pay what they can—1,000 or 1,200 taka if affordable—to cover annual fees, as there’s no regular tuition. Meals and housing are arranged informally, with students often living and eating with families within the block. Each year, the madrasa organizes a gathering where the local community donates what they can, raising roughly a lakh taka to support the school’s expenses and teacher stipends. Currently, Qasemia Madinatul Ulum has 150 students, 15 teachers, and has recently opened a women’s branch for around 20 female students.
Siraj noted, “There are several madrasas in each camp, along with basic Islamic schools and Hifz (Quran memorization) programs for both boys and girls. In Camp 13 alone, we have seven madrasas. One offers the highest Dawra-e-Hadith level, while three—including ours—provide classes up to that level.”
When asked about a central madrasa board, Siraj shared that Rohingya scholars initially considered establishing a board affiliated with Patiya Madrasa. However, Bangladesh’s government did not permit it. A unified camp board was briefly organized, but internal disagreements led to its disbandment after two years. Now, each madrasa operates independently.
Regarding economic prospects for graduates, Siraj remarked, “Some graduates go on to teach, others become mosque imams. Monthly stipends range between 3,000 and 5,000 taka, sourced from within the block where they work. A block of 100 households, for example, may donate a portion of their relief money to support the madrasa or mosque. Many Rohingyas also work as laborers for NGOs or local Bangladeshis, though usually at half the wage rate. When work is available, they might earn 400-500 taka daily, some of which is also donated to religious causes.”
In addition to religious studies, madrasas teach multiple languages—Urdu, Farsi, and Arabic—alongside subjects like Fiqh (Islamic jurisprudence), Hadith (Prophetic traditions), Tafsir (Quranic exegesis), and logic. However, neither English nor Burmese is part of the curriculum due to limited resources. Siraj explained, “Since we don’t receive salaries, hiring an English teacher is beyond our means.”
On the question of madrasa enrollment, he revealed that interest has dwindled, with only about 30 percent of children now attending madrasas, while 70 percent opt for schools run by NGOs. “My salary is supposed to be 8,000 taka, but it’s been so long since I actually received it that I can’t recall. NGO schools, however, offer 12,000 taka to teachers. The lack of funds is why fewer families send their children here.”
The thought of returning to Myanmar is always close at hand for Siraj. His voice trembled as he said, “In Myanmar, we lived comfortably. We want to return; we discuss it in class. We work to keep that hope alive and remind ourselves never to let it fade.” While they long for a leader to unite them in this struggle, they continue to hold onto their dreams of a peaceful return to their homeland.
The Journey of Hope: Maulana Muhibullah’s Mission in Camp 13
Maulana Muhibullah of Sangana village in Rakhine taught Hadith in three madrasas across Rathedaung and Maungdaw before he was forced to flee. In 2000, he completed his Dawra-e-Hadith and Ifta (Islamic jurisprudence specialization) at Hathazari Madrasa in Chittagong, then returned to Myanmar to teach. After arriving in Camp 13 in 2017, Muhibullah established the largest madrasa in the camp, Jamia Darus Sunnah Al-Islamia.
Reflecting on the madrasa’s founding, Muhibullah shared, “We arrived in Dhul-Hijjah (August 2017), and by Rabi’ al-Awwal (October 2017), we had started Dawra-e-Hadith classes. That year, we had 27 Dawra students and nearly 300 students in total. When we first arrived, there were no madrasas or mosques in the camp. Scholars from Bangladesh provided invaluable support, often without leaving any mark of their involvement.”
Initially, a few teachers from Bangladesh contributed financially to help establish the madrasa, though that assistance has since ceased. Today, the madrasa relies on individual donations and ration-sharing for sustenance. “We’re teaching for free, sustained by ration supplies. If any donations come our way, we use them to buy books and other essentials,” Muhibullah explained. “We’re here to preserve our faith, and Allah will help us.”
With about 300 students and 22 teachers, Jamia Darus Sunnah follows the syllabus of Bangladesh’s Qawmi madrasas. Alongside their studies, students engage in weekly events, including speeches and debates in Arabic, Rohingya, and Urdu on various scholarly topics. A trilingual wall magazine features articles in Arabic, Burmese, and Bengali, and public speaking events foster linguistic and oratory skills.
When asked about their future, Muhibullah’s voice carried a sense of determined optimism. “The urge to return drives us. We dream of returning to our beloved homeland, and that hope keeps us going.”
