Three years after fleeing Sudan war, Gbreel follows his medical dream to Italy

Gbreel Telbo overcame a childhood marked by insecurity and displacement in South Darfur to excel at school and win a university scholarship to study medicine. Shortly after graduating in 2023, he was interning at a hospital in Sudan’s capital, Khartoum, when the war broke out.

Unable to stay, and drawing on the harsh lessons of his childhood, he resolved to rejoin his family and seek safety, initially fleeing with them inside Sudan and ultimately settling as refugees in Uganda.

Despite finding safety and a warm welcome, Gbreel was reluctant to abandon his dream of becoming a doctor. He applied to UNHCR, the UN Refugee Agency’s, University Corridors for Refugees (UNICORE) Programme, which enables refugee students to access higher education in Italy. He was accepted to study for a Master’s in Clinical and Experimental Biology at the University of Foggia, arriving in Italy in 2025 and due to finish his studies in 2027.

Here, Gbreel describes his remarkable journey from South Darfur to southern Italy, and how timely support and the opportunity to apply his talents have enabled him to keep pursuing his dream of a better future:

I remember exactly where I was on 15 April 2023 [when war broke out in Sudan]. Just three weeks before, I had completed my medical studies at the University of Bayan in Khartoum.

Ever since I was a child, I have dreamt of becoming a doctor. In Darfur, where I come from, a lot of people are suffering from a lack of proper health care, from insecurity, from violence. I wanted to help others, to take care of people. When I attended secondary school, I was considered an outstanding student and was offered a scholarship to the University of Nyala [in South Darfur]. It was my chance.

A man's hands hold an open book above a desk holding a computer, a telephone and a photo of a group of friends

Gbreel, a top student who always dreamed of becoming a doctor, reads a medical book in his dormitory at the University of Foggia.

My father was a hard worker, but he was uneducated and often doubted whether education was really necessary. He thought even after my degree, I would come back home and be forced to take a job at the market like him. Luckily, I am the last of seven children, and they didn’t need me to help the family. I was free to go to school. Education gives you something in your hands that will help you make it in life. It’s like having insurance for the future; it is the only way out of a difficult life.

The situation in Darfur was always very difficult. We had moved around a lot to escape the violence, leaving behind our home and our friends several times. Even while I was at university, the Government of Darfur decided to move us to Khartoum to continue our studies because of the insecurity in the area.

When I got there, I asked myself, ‘Is this really Sudan?’ It was very strange for me to spend two years without hearing a single gunshot. I wanted to move my entire family there once I finished school. I had no idea a place like that existed in our country, where you can live a normal life without thinking that at any moment you can be attacked, or you will lose someone you love.

A framed black and white photo of an older woman sits on a desk next to a phone, amug and a pair of reading glasses

A photograph of Gbreel's mother sits on his dormitory desk.

On 15 April 2023, I heard the first bomb go off shortly after beginning my shift in the emergency room (ER). It was only the second day of my internship at a local hospital.

I had noticed more military than usual on the streets while getting to work, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. Just five minutes later, part of the hospital was hit by shelling. We switched the TV on and saw what was happening. After an hour, dozens of injured people started arriving at the ER. After three hours, we ran out of medical supplies. After five hours, we were without power and did not know where to put the deceased; there were bodies everywhere. We carried on the whole night like that, but finally, in the morning, we understood there was nothing we could do. The Red Crescent came to transfer the injured; we were forced to leave the dead behind, and we went home.

In those first days, everyone was convinced it would not continue; they thought that in a few weeks, everything would be over. I knew it would not stop, based on my life in Darfur. I knew that once guns start, it is so difficult to stop them. Knowing this helped me understand the situation and decide what to do. I left Khartoum very quickly to go back to my family.

"Education...is the only way out of a difficult life."

An empty street lined with palm trees, destroyed buildings and rubble.

A photo from December 2025 showing a street of severely damaged buildings in Sudan's capital, Khartoum.

The trip home was the hardest part of all. It took a week to get there, when the journey would normally take 24 hours. In the meantime, the war had reached Nyala, and I prayed to find my family safe. I knew in my heart that they would figure it out, but I also knew that when war starts, it doesn’t distinguish between civilians and military.

My family was okay. We moved from Nyala to several other places in the country, but finally realized there was no longer a safe place in Sudan. Together with my mother, two brothers and their families, we crossed into South Sudan and from there, to Uganda.

The journey was very difficult, but we were together and going towards safety, and this made it easier.

The turning point was when I crossed into Uganda; we were received as refugees at the border and immediately supported. It was the first real help I received since leaving Khartoum months before. It was little, but it felt huge, finding someone greeting you with a smile and understanding what we had survived. For a while, we were settled in Kiryandongo refugee settlement and given a piece of land and materials to build a home.

"Once guns start, it is so difficult to stop them."

A selfie of a smiling man in front of a wire and wooden post fence, with a dirt road and countryside in the background

A selfie of Gbreel taken in Uganda, where he found safety with his family after fleeing Sudan.

The most difficult part of being in a war isn’t losing your life; if you did, it would be over and you would have nothing to worry about. The most difficult part is fearing that you will lose the people you love, and knowing that there is nothing you can do about it, no way to protect them.

For a long time, I could not think about the future, not even in my dreams. All I could think about was: Am I safe now? Yes. Is my family safe now? Yes. Ok, I don’t want anything more than that.

The incredible thing is how generous Ugandans are. I am where I am today because of them. If I had been busy trying to survive on my own, I never would have been able to take this opportunity.

A man and a woman wearing white lab coats conduct experiemnents on opposite sides of a laboratory

Gbreel works alongside a female colleague in the biology laboratory at the University of Foggia.

A man wearing a lab coat looks into a microscope inside a laboratory

Gbreel uses a microscope in the biology laboratory at the University of Foggia.

I realized in Uganda, it would be very difficult for me as a refugee to ever practice medicine. That’s when I found out through UNHCR about the University Corridors programme to Italy. I decided to apply for a scholarship, but I knew from the beginning how competitive it was. The 2,000 refugees who applied for 70 scholarships are not just qualified; they are extraordinary and outstanding students. I did my homework to prepare for the selection process. I mocked the interview for 10 days straight, and I was very lucky to be accepted at the University of Foggia to study Clinical and Experimental Biology at the Faculty of Medicine.

When I got the call, I just couldn’t believe it, after everything I had been through. Everyone here at the University is extremely kind. The other students that I live with in the dormitory are supportive of me and curious about where I come from, always asking questions. The first few months, I struggled a bit adapting to the new environment, but I think my life has taught me how to tackle stress and new surroundings.

"The incredible thing is how generous Ugandans are."

A group of people sit in a circle on the grass lawn of a park under a blue sky

Before classes, Gbreel relaxes with his university friends in a park in Foggia.

A man holds a mobile phone up for a selfie with other people seated around a table in the covered terrace of a bar

Friends and colleagues of Gbreel join him at a bar near the University of Foggia.

I am not here as a victim, but as someone who believes in education as a way to restore life. Even though three years have passed, and I have overcome so much, I still find it hard to think about the future. My main goal is to see myself as a human again. I cannot think about where I want to be five years from now, or what the plan is. I have to take it day by day, and I hope that I will make it and start believing in myself again.

To other refugees who will read my story, I want you to know that there are people working hard for you to make these opportunities happen, and if one of you made it, then you can too.

As told to Barbara Molinario.

Background information:

Since 2019, UNHCR’s UNICORE project has enabled over 300 refugee students to safely access university education in Italy through scholarships and student visas. The programme offers refugees the opportunity to apply their skills and maximize their potential in order to build better lives. Over 40 Italian universities are currently taking part in the 8th edition of the programme, selecting refugee applicants based on merit and motivation.