Hafizur Rahman from Rohingya Camp
In the sprawling expanse of the world’s largest refugee camp in Bangladesh, where over 1.2 million Rohingya people live after escaping the brutal violence and oppression in Myanmar, a unique form of resilience is flourishing. Amid the endless rows of makeshift shelters, a community-driven initiative called Maktab is helping Rohingya children reconnect with their roots and faith, laying the foundation for an enduring culture of Islamic learning and unity.
The Maktab, an Islamic educational center, stands as more than just a school; it’s a symbol of cultural preservation and hope. At Baitul Shorof Maktab, one of the many such centers spread across the camp, children gather each day to learn Arabic, Urdu, and their native Rohingya Zuban. This trilingual approach enables students to read the Holy Quran in Arabic, understand Hadith in Urdu, and converse in Rohingya Zuban, a language often silenced under the oppressive rule of the Myanmar government.
For many, the camp’s Maktabs are a beacon of cultural identity. Molana Saiful Islam, a 35-year-old leader of Baitul Shorof Maktab, speaks with pride about the progress his students have made. With more than 200 learners attending regularly, Saiful Islam has witnessed a resurgence of Islamic practice and learning within his community. “Here, students are not just memorizing words; they’re learning the Kalima, Namaz, Roza, Zakat, and Hajj, the foundational aspects of Islam,” he explains. For seven years, his Maktab has been inspiring children to practice their faith in ways that extend far beyond the classroom.
Historically, Islamic education for Rohingya children in Myanmar consisted of Arabic and Urdu alone. Rohingya Zuban was largely excluded due to fear of punishment under the restrictive policies imposed by the Myanmar government. However, in the refugee camp, the language finds new life. The ability to learn in Rohingya Zuban without fear reconnects the community to a part of their heritage that was almost lost, and, as Saiful Islam explains, this linguistic revival is essential to keeping their identity alive.
Bashir Ahammed, a 56-year-old elder, shares how the Maktab culture has rejuvenated his faith in the community’s resilience. “This learning culture is the best way to lead our people in Islamic Shariah,” he reflects. “It inspires love for the beloved Prophet Muhammad (SAW) and brings peace within the community.” When he hears the young voices reciting in Arabic, Urdu, and Rohingya Zuban, he feels transported to a time before the displacements, a time when his people’s culture thrived freely in Myanmar’s Arakan state. However, he is also keenly aware of the precariousness of their cultural heritage, acknowledging that the younger generation may face pressures from external influences. He hopes for strong leadership to help preserve this heritage for generations to come.
This passion for preservation resonates in the younger generation as well. Mohamed Junaid, a 12-year-old student, embodies the spirit of dedication to Islamic principles. Greeting visitors with “Assalamualaikum Warahmatullah,” he follows his teacher’s guidance to pray in the masjid, a practice he takes seriously even at the early hour of Fajr. His dream is to become an Islamic scholar, teaching and guiding his community as his own teachers have done.
The Maktabs’ ability to survive and even thrive in the refugee camp is rooted in community resilience. With no external funding, these centers depend on contributions from within, a testament to the Rohingya people’s unwavering commitment to educating their children. This grassroots initiative not only meets the community’s educational expectations but also strengthens unity and peace, fostering a shared identity and sense of belonging.
Amid the struggles of displacement, poverty, and persecution, this Maktab learning initiative represents a profound act of defiance. As Amnesty International’s Secretary General Agnès Callamard recently noted, the Rohingya community has endured immense losses—losing family members, heritage, and land. The Maktab stands as a reminder that while they may have lost their homes, they have not lost their faith or culture.
For now, in the quiet spaces of Baitul Shorof and countless other Maktabs across the camp, children’s voices ring out in prayer and recitation, echoing the strength of a people determined to hold on to their identity and heritage. Through the commitment of their teachers, parents, and elders, the Rohingya children of today are learning to carry the light of Islamic knowledge into an uncertain future, creating a legacy that may one day transcend the borders of the camp. In preserving this Maktab learning culture, the community is not only educating its children but also safeguarding the soul of Rohingya identity for generations to come.
