Crossing borders with knowledge: A Sudanese scholar’s journey through displacement and mobility barriers
This blog post is written by Dr. Elamin Akoy.
When the official invitation arrived confirming my participation in the 6th World Conference on Climate Change and Global Warming in Copenhagen, I felt a mix of pride and disbelief. As a Sudanese scholar forced into displacement by ongoing conflict, I had grown accustomed to uncertainty. Yet this invitation was a recognition of my research, my perseverance, and the broader struggle of Sudanese academics who continue contributing to global knowledge despite unimaginable adversity.
But what should have been a smooth academic journey quickly became a test of resilience—a journey that exposed the deep structural challenges displaced scholars face when attempting to cross borders for scientific exchange.
Displacement and the weight of documentation
Living in Egypt as a displaced Sudanese scholar means existing in a world defined by paperwork—temporary residence permits, constant renewal deadlines, school enrollment proof for children, and financial statements scrutinized by authorities. Every document becomes both a lifeline and a barrier.
To apply for a Danish visa, I was required to submit my application at least 15 days before travel, provide a temporary Egyptian residence permit, and present proof that my children were enrolled in school—evidence meant to demonstrate “strong ties” ensuring my return. These requirements may appear standard, but for displaced individuals, they become steep walls to climb.
The unspoken question embedded in the paperwork is always the same:
Can a displaced person be trusted to return?
The financial hurdle: Balancing survival and eligibility
The Danish visa process mandates a bank statement showing no less than 80,000 Egyptian Pounds. To someone reading this figure in Europe, it may seem modest. But for a displaced scholar supporting a family while rebuilding life in a host country, it is a significant sum.
Displacement often disconnects scholars from their home institutions, salaries, and research funding. In Egypt and many other host countries, displaced academics rarely have formal employment or access to stable income. Maintaining a bank balance simply to prove one’s eligibility becomes a burden on an already fragile existence.
If you lack this financial proof—even if your research is globally relevant—your academic journey ends before it begins.
The digital divide: When technology becomes a gatekeeper
One of the most unexpected obstacles I faced was the requirement for online payments, including visa fees and system charges processed exclusively through digital platforms. In much of the world, online banking is routine. For many displaced scholars, however, it is a privilege out of reach.
Sudanese citizens in Egypt frequently lack access to international bank cards or online payment systems. Without these tools, I navigated a maze of alternative options—each more uncertain or costly than the last. Something as simple as paying a fee became a marathon of phone calls, borrowed accounts, and moments of deep frustration.
This is a small example of a larger truth: digital exclusion is a barrier to academic mobility.
The cost of participation: More than money
By the time I had gathered all the documents, secured the online payments, and finally received the visa approval, I felt as though I had passed through a series of gates designed not to filter out criminals—but to filter out the vulnerable.
Attending the conference required energy I would rather have devoted to preparing my research. Yet each obstacle I overcame reminded me why I needed to be there: to tell a story not only of climate change but of human resilience.
The conference: A moment of recognition
Arriving in Copenhagen and stepping into a room filled with scientists, policymakers, and innovators, I felt the weight of the journey behind me. My presentation, Exploring the Impact of Climate Risk on Agricultural Production: Evidence from North Darfur State, Sudan—rooted in both lived experience and academic inquiry—was not just a contribution to the conference. It was a statement:
Displaced scholars are not victims of circumstance. They are active producers of knowledge. What they lack is access, not ability.
My presence at the podium showed what becomes possible when even one scholar is given the chance to cross barriers that should never have existed in the first place.
The larger story: Mobility as a form of inequality
My experience is not unique. Around the world, displaced academics and researchers confront layers of restrictions:
- Visa systems built on assumptions of economic privilege
- Residency requirements that do not account for forced migration
- Financial thresholds that ignore the realities of displacement
- Digital systems inaccessible to those without banking tools
- Proven academic merit overshadowed by passport limitations
These barriers affect not only individuals but also global knowledge production. When scholars from conflict zones are unable to attend conferences, collaborate internationally, or share their insights, the world loses perspectives essential to understanding global challenges—including climate change.
Despite these obstacles, I was ultimately able to attend the conference—an achievement made possible through the generous support of SNAC (Sudan–Norway Academic Cooperation) and the Chr. Michelsen Institute (CMI). Their travel grant scholarship made this journey possible, and I remain deeply grateful.
Why this story matters
My journey to Copenhagen was a personal victory, but it also highlights the urgent need for institutional change:
- Funding programs that support displaced academics
- Visa processes adapted to the realities of forced migration
- Conference policies that actively include scholars from crisis-affected regions
- Digital access initiatives that remove financial and technological barriers
By sharing this story, I hope to illuminate both the resilience of displaced scholars and the unnecessary hardships they endure.
Knowledge should not need a visa.
Research should not depend on a bank balance.
And global understanding should not be limited by the accidents of birth and borders.
The views expressed in this blog post are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of CMI.