Beyond headlines of conflict are children who still reach for routine — a classroom, a storybook, a safe night’s sleep. We stand with the local teams restoring those simple, lifesaving rhythms one tent school and one smile at a time.
Burkina Faso is a nation of deep cultural pride and communal resilience, but recent years have brought a wave of violence, poverty, and disruption that has shaken the lives of millions — especially children. These are the three most urgent challenges they face today:
Armed groups and regional instability have displaced over 2 million people in Burkina Faso, with more than half of them being children. Many have lost their homes, family members, and access to schooling.
Due to insecurity, over 6,000 schools have been closed in recent years. This leaves hundreds of thousands of children without a safe place to learn or a routine to ground their lives.
Children affected by violence, loss, and displacement often carry invisible wounds. Yet in much of Burkina Faso, there is little to no access to trained counselors or trauma-informed care for youth.
When violence scatters families, Keoogo becomes a steady hand. Staff find children sleeping rough, offer medical care and meals, and help trace relatives or safe foster homes. Transitional classes rebuild learning habits; counseling names fears that kids have carried alone for too long. The work is urgent and gentle, pairing protection with patience until a child feels anchored again. For those at risk of trafficking, teams move fast and stay close. Every placement, every reunion, every returned backpack is a small miracle — and a clear signal that no child should have to survive alone.
Some pain refuses to come out as sentences. Fondation KIMI makes space for color, rhythm, and play to do the talking. Children paint what they can’t yet say and hear the powerful words “it’s okay to feel it.” Facilitators trained in trauma care bring consistency to places where nothing feels dependable, and sessions end with routines that help the calm last. Over time, drawings brighten, laughter returns, and teachers notice a change: attention holds a little longer, tempers cool a little faster. Healing isn’t instant, but it’s visible — and it belongs to the children again.
Collapsible tents, whiteboards on donkeys, and backpacks stuffed with hope — the caravan brought school to the very places that lost it. Kids lined up to write their names for the first time in years, and teachers modeled patience that felt like a warm meal. Lessons were short, steady, and designed to travel; routines returned in pencil marks and shared songs. The road was dusty, the schedule imperfect, but the change was immediate: children stood a little taller and remembered what it feels like to be a student.
In a camp defined by loss, a day of music and murals turned grief into color. Volunteers set up circles for storytelling and dance, and parents watched as hesitation became laughter. The point wasn’t to forget; it was to remember joy as a right, not a luxury. By the final song, the air felt different — lighter, determined. Children carried their painted hands into the week like badges, proof that even here, happiness can be made and shared.
Supports rural communities with medical aid, educational access, and basic livelihood resources.
Works to prevent HIV and support vulnerable populations through health services and human rights advocacy.
Implements community development and environmental education projects with a focus on youth.
Delivers technical solutions and economic support for sustainable development in agriculture, water, and sanitation.
