In the middle of Kakuma, where most people only see hardship, two sisters saw something else: a chance to lift others. Sudi Omar Noor and Saido Omar, Somali refugees and Amahoro Fellows, are reshaping life for girls in Kakuma, one code, one campaign, one conversation at a time. Originally from Somalia, their mother moved the family to Kenya, raising eight children in the unforgiving environment of refugee camps like Dadaab and Kakuma. Life was hard. Food was rationed. Safety wasn’t guaranteed. But one thing was clear: education was the way out. Their mother believed in it fiercely, even though she never got it herself.
Let’s start from the beginning. What was growing up in Kakuma like for both of you?
Sudi: We arrived in Kakuma when we were just little girls. Life in the camp gave us safety, but it was far from easy. You grow up knowing that you have to survive before you can dream. But we had our mother. She was the one who pushed us to go to school, even when the classrooms were overcrowded and the teaching wasn’t great. She said, “Get the education I never had. That is the only way you’ll rise.” And we believed her.
Saido: Our mother raised eight children alone. In a place like Kakuma, that’s not just parenting, that’s fighting for survival. When we didn’t have food, she shared hers. When we couldn’t see a way forward, she made sure we kept walking anyway. We owe her everything. She was our first helping hand. If you don’t have someone like that, it’s so easy to fall and never get up again.
When did you realize you couldn’t just survive, you had to build something?
Sudi: Becoming a refugee as a child is not something you ever truly prepare for. I remember the uncertainty, the fear, and the silence of being in a place where everything was unfamiliar. But through it all, my mother never wavered. Her one dream for us was simple: education. In Dadaab, that dream felt distant, cultural barriers and security risks made school almost impossible. So we moved to Kakuma, not because it was easy, but because she believed we could find a better chance there.
Even in Kakuma, education wasn’t perfect. The schools were overcrowded, the resources limited, and the quality often lacking.
But my mother kept reminding us that it didn’t matter where we were, what mattered was that we kept learning. She used to say, “Get the education I never had. That is your power.”
And she was right. No matter how hard it got, we held on. Because when you don’t have a helping hand, it’s easy to fall and never get back up. For us, that hand was our mother. For many others, they don’t have that kind of support and that’s why we do what we do today. To be that helping hand for girls who are struggling to stay in school, who are told they can’t, who are just one chance away from changing everything. Education saved us. And now we want to help others find that same light, even in the darkest places.
If you don’t have a helping hand, you’ll remain down, For us, it was our mother. For others, we wanted to become that
Saido
Saido: In 2011, my mother enrolled us for computer classes and this was my entry into the tech space. However, after those classes ended that year, I did not touch a computer until 2020 when I was able to enroll for an advanced computer class in coding and web design for girls. It was here that I realised that the tech space is a powerful space and the whole world is headed here. Even after graduating with a diploma in software engineering, I was still unable to get a job in tech. Not many women are in the tech spaces because of the existing cultural perspective. So I decided to get out there and help them so that they can be able to help their families while also helping themselves.
What’s something people get completely wrong about refugees?
Saido: That we are waiting for someone to save us. We’re not. We just need a push, a door opened, a chance. I’ve met girls who code better than boys, who lead with so much fire, but they never had the space to show it. That’s what we’re trying to give them now. The general perspective is that refugees are always in need of help. You can find people who are educated, and experts in different sectors in Kakuma. Instead of giving help to these people, we should think of how to invest in the sector by changing their mindsets. There are people who are doing big things in Kakuma who just need that helping hand to invest in their ideas.
What has it been like leading as women in spaces where your voices are often ignored?
Sudi: It’s hard. Not because we’re not capable, but because people don’t expect us to be. You have to unlearn so many things you were told about yourself. You have to teach girls to unlearn too. Learning is the easy part. Unlearning, that’s the real work. There are days when it’s tough to even show up. You fight culture, tradition, fear, even your own doubts. But then a girl comes to you and says, “Thank you. You helped me.” And that makes everything worth it.
What changed after becoming Amahoro Fellows?
Sudi: Everything. Amahoro was a path that opened up everything. When I first joined the fellowship, I did not know what I was getting myself into. Through the exposure, I found a family with my fellows and we became more than friends. It was a life changing experience for me. Before Amahoro, we didn’t even have an office. We ran programs from schoolyards and borrowed spaces. After the fellowship, we got funding, training, and mentorship. We built a real office. We trained thirty young mothers in tailoring. We gave reusable sanitary pads to over a thousand girls. We moved from just existing to actually building.
Saido: Amahoro took us seriously. That was the first step. Then they gave us the tools to think bigger. Before, TechniKam was a dream. Now it’s a registered initiative. I used to think only about helping others. Now I’m building a model that can sustain itself. You cannot save someone who is drowning if you yourself cannot swim. It was here that I learnt that for me to be able to have the impact that I want to have, I first need to ensure that Technikam is sustainable. The fellowship made me realise that I’m not just a refugee girl, I’m a founder, a builder, and a helping hand for others.
What’s the big dream now, for each of you, and together?
Sudi: I want to set up a sanitary pad manufacturing unit here in Kakuma. Imagine a space run by women, produced for women, and turning something as basic as a pad into power, into income, into dignity.
Saido: I want TechniKam to be the first refugee tech startup to go global. I want girls from Kakuma to be seen as leaders in tech. I want to break every ceiling we were born under. And I want to help others do the same.
We had helping hands. Now, we are the helping hands.
