Refugee. Boda Boda rider. And now 3D modeller. All in under 12 months. Here’s Brian Ekiru’s journey.

3D modelling digital skills training sessions in Kakuma Refugee Camp.

The hardest part of life in Kakuma Refugee Camp isn’t what’s happening — it’s what’s not.

 Kakuma is hot. Dry. It’s the kind of heat and dust that wears you out before the day even begins.

 But it’s not the weather that gets to you. It’s the stillness that settles into your bones.

The camp has shops. Schools. Churches. Energy.

But there’s no real progress. No forward motion.

 And when you’re in your 20s or 30s -when you’re supposed to be building something- that stillness doesn’t feel like peace.

It feels like failure.

Like you’ve already fallen behind, and you’re running out of time to catch up.

Everyone says, “Be patient.”

But patience doesn’t buy airtime or put food on the table.

 Still, you know you’re too young to give up.

And deep down, you believe you’re here for a reason.

 You want to work. You want to earn. You want out.

 So you do the only thing that feels like forward.

You get a bike on credit — even though you can’t really afford it.

 And suddenly, you’re in motion.

Riding. Sweating. Earning.

Trying to outrun the stillness, one boda boda (motorbike taxi) ride at a time.

 But the rules of the boda boda hustle are brutal: Miss a loan payment? They take the bike.

No grace. No negotiation.

 Every ride is survival. Every day is math.

Fuel. Repairs. Loan repayments. And your family, still waiting back home.

 And when the math doesn’t math?

You lose the bike. You lose the income.

You go back to zero.

 That was Brian’s daily reality — until a new kind of skill changed everything.

What’s it like to be a young man in Kakuma?

 It’s being told you’re the future… while being locked out of the present.

 It’s being expected to provide, protect, and perform but with no job, no network, no clear path forward.

 It’s walking through a camp that looks busy on the outside… but feels frozen when it comes to real opportunity.

 You wake up everyday and feel behind. Not because you’re lazy,  but because there’s nothing to plug into.

 No internships. No mentors. No industry.

 Just pressure to “be something” without a way to become it.

 If you’re a young man in Kakuma, you’re not just competing with other refugees. You’re up against a whole system that’s already made it harder for you to get in.

 Even worse.

 Most of the 20% who are employed? They’re older. Heads of households. People with connections or some sort of existing setup — maybe a small business, a relative who vouched for them, something.

 But if you’re a young refugee? Just starting out? The odds aren’t in your favor.

 While the rest of the country’s youth is out there hustling, grinding, moving up,  most people in the camp are just trying to get a foot in the door.

 But where’s the door?

 You can’t work outside the camp without permits.

You can’t apply for most jobs because you don’t have the paperwork.

You can’t get into college or access higher education opportunities unless you land a scholarship — and even then, the waiting list is a mile long.

 So what’s left?

 If you’re lucky, maybe you get a spot in a vocational training program — car repair, welding, electrical installations. Good skills, sure. But oversaturated because most young men in Kakuma end up chasing the same handful of options.

 So the jobs? Still few. Still low-paying. Still limited to the same local economy.

 Some try to sell goods — maybe second-hand clothes, maybe snacks.

But again, it’s a small market, and most people don’t have money to spend.

 These conditions force most youth in Kakuma into short-term thinking. Not by choice, but by necessity.

 When your day starts with the question “What will we eat?” and ends with “Will we have electricity tomorrow?” — you’re not planning your career. You’re calculating survival.

 Every decision becomes a response to an immediate need. Medical emergencies, school supplies, rent, food. The priorities keep piling up, and your ability to think beyond next week quietly disappears.

 And so, hustling becomes the default.

 For young men, hustling usually means chasing whatever opportunity earns something — anything. Carrying goods. Selling boiled eggs, second-hand clothes. Repairing electronics. Doing errands for people with more stability than you. It’s informal. It’s inconsistent. But it’s better than staying idle.

Like many other young men in Kakuma did: Brian found a way to hustle.

How Brian became a freelance 3D artist after completing the Creative Gateway Digital Skills training program.

He didn’t own the motorbike, but he had just enough access to start earning from it. That alone put him ahead of most of his peers.

 Because in Kakuma, having a boda boda isn’t just a way to earn - it’s a status symbol. It means movement. It means people see you working. It means you can send a little something home at the end of the day.

 But even that came with risk.

 The margins were thin. Fuel prices. Repairs. Daily loan payments.

 One bad day could wipe out an entire week’s earnings. One missed payment could cost you the bike.

Brian’s story isn’t unusual. In fact, it’s one we see all the time.

 Young men come to us after trying everything they know how to do. They've hustled. They’ve carried loads, fixed electronics, driven bodas, sold second-hand clothes — whatever they could get their hands on.

 But even in the middle of that grind, they know they want more.

 They’re not looking for a shortcut. They’re looking for a skill. A real one — something they can build on. Something that makes them feel like their future isn’t already written.

 That’s where Brian was when he joined the Creative Gateway 3D program.

 He didn’t have a design background. He wasn’t a tech expert. He was just a young man who had tried other things, kept hitting walls, and decided to try something new.

 And when he joined our Program, he didn’t just attend— he applied himself.

He pushed through the frustration that comes with any new technical skill. He kept showing up — day after day, week after week — and somewhere along the way, something shifted.

He stopped just being a learner. He became someone other young men looked to.

Today, Brian now supports facilitation and peer learning during our 3D modelling digital skills training sessions in Kakuma Refugee Camp.  He helps those who are exactly where he once was — confused, overwhelmed, not sure if they belong in a space like this.

 And outside the classroom?

 Brian is now completing freelance gigs for clients in Europe. Let that sink in — a young man from Kakuma, doing digital work for clients thousands of miles away.

 It’s taken less than a year to make that transformation.

 From boda rider to 3D artist. From daily hustles to global freelance work. From student to mentor.

This is what we’ve been working toward as the Creative Gateway

 This isn’t just about learning a digital skill. It’s about what that digital skill makes possible.

 In the short term, Brian is earning.

 He has paying clients. He’s able to contribute to his household — covering basic needs without relying fully on aid. He’s built a small portfolio. He’s improved his confidence with clients.

 He gets paid in euros, not just shillings. That alone changes the conversation at home.

 He’s no longer guessing where the next bit of money will come from. He’s budgeting. Saving. Planning for upgrades. Investing in his future.

 Long term, this opens up a different kind of path.

 Brian is  no longer limited by the local economy, where jobs are few and pay is low. He’s navigating international platforms, communicating with clients, managing feedback, and delivering professional work — all from Kakuma.

 It’s not perfect, but it’s steady. And it’s growing.

 There are more Brians. A lot more.

More young people who are ready to work, eager to learn, and just need a path that goes somewhere.

When refugee youth get access to the right tools, the right training, and the chance to apply themselves, they don’t just participate — they excel.

 If you want to be part of that — as a partner, a funder, an employer, or someone simply curious — let’s connect.

 �� Email our Project Lead, Vincent: vincent@ambitiousafrica.org

�� Have questions about the program? Reach out here: Creative Gateway Contact Page

Text by Freddie ngunju