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‘My Brother Didn't Choose to be Trisomic': ‘Pieces of Heaven' Face School Rejection in Morocco
Marrakech – In Morocco's educational system – already ranked among the lowest globally – thousands of children with Trisomy 21 exist in silence. These children – described by their families as 'pieces of heaven' with pure hearts and untapped intelligence – struggle daily against a system that refuses to see them.
Each year, approximately 600 Moroccan newborns enter the world with this chromosomal condition, joining an estimated 60,000 Moroccans already living with what medical professionals call Down syndrome. Behind these numbers lie shattered dreams, exhausted parents, and children desperate for the most basic right: an education.
Trisomy 21 occurs when a child is born with three copies of chromosome 21 instead of two, causing developmental delays and distinctive physical characteristics.
The condition is not hereditary, appearing as a chromosomal accident during pregnancy. While these children possess extraordinary affection and unique intelligence, their primary obstacle often isn't their condition – it's society's response to it.
According to medical experts, Trisomy 21 represents the most common genetic disease, affecting approximately one in every thousand births in Morocco.
At birth, about 40% of these children have detectable cardiac abnormalities that require immediate intervention from neonatal intensive care specialists, cardiologists, and cardiac surgeons to ensure survival during the early stages of life.
The condition was first described in 1862 by British physician John Langdon Down, who initially called it 'Mongolism' or 'Mongolian idiocy' and characterized it as a form of mental disability.
Today, medical understanding has evolved significantly, with specialists recognizing that these children have specific cognitive disorders that can be addressed through therapy.
Education: A constitutional right denied
Morocco's 2011 Constitution explicitly states: 'Basic education is a right for children and an obligation for families and the state.' Yet for Trisomy 21 children, this constitutional guarantee remains hollow.
As is often the case in the North African country, the issue is not about the availability of laws and judicial texts but about their application. Framework Law 51.17 on the education, training, and scientific research system in Morocco, along with a new government decree (No. 2.21.81) based on Article 13 of this framework law, requires private schools to allocate 15% of their capacity to students from disadvantaged families, persons with disabilities, and those in special social situations.
This situation leads to a burning question: Why doesn't the Ministry of National Education establish an admission quota for children with special needs in private schools to ensure their integration and support?
Schools across the country – particularly those of higher reputation – routinely slam their doors in these children's faces, treating them as if they were 'extraterrestrials' or 'monsters' who would disrupt normal classroom functioning.
The bitter reality facing these families hits hardest when they begin their search for educational opportunities. Schools openly admit they prefer children with dyslexia or autism 'because they can follow regular courses,' leaving Trisomy 21 children with nowhere to go.
Parents find themselves trapped in an endless cycle of rejection, forced to place their children in inappropriate environments where they often regress rather than progress.
The National Human Development Initiative (INDH) centers – intended to serve people with special needs – frequently fail these children by grouping all disabilities together without differentiation.
Children of various ages, needs, and behavioral profiles are mixed haphazardly, sometimes resulting in Trisomy 21 children returning home injured or adopting negative behaviors they never displayed before.
For families fortunate enough to find appropriate schooling, the cost becomes another insurmountable barrier.
The minimum monthly expense for proper medical care and education reaches MAD 2,500 ($250) per child – an impossible sum for many Moroccan families, especially considering that the average monthly wage hovers around MAD 3,000 ($300). This financial burden continues throughout the child's life, as they require lifelong medical attention and support.
Beyond education, these children need access to various therapeutic services that many consider luxuries rather than necessities.
Activities like swimming and music – critical for their development – are often dismissed as frivolous by officials, despite being essential components of treatment for these children.
The United Nations recognized the importance of this issue in 2011 by adopting a resolution declaring March 21 as World Down Syndrome Day, calling on all member states to raise public awareness about the condition.
'They are not Moroccans?': One sister breaks her silence
The sister of an 18-year-old with Trisomy 21 decided to speak out after witnessing her family's decade-long struggle to secure her brother's education.
The young man – described as calm, wise, organized, and possessing 'a form of incredible intelligence' – faces a bleak future after his school announced its bankruptcy and closure with no alternative solution for its special needs students.
'When searching for a school for my brother in El Jadida, we faced a painful reality,' Zaïnab Lyassaa, whose family learned of her brother's condition on the day of his birth, tells Morocco World News (MWN).
'My brother didn't choose to be trisomic or to have difficulty speaking… These children are angels among us, with pure hearts and intelligence waiting to be revealed – if only someone would give them a chance.'
'From the moment of his birth, we accepted him with joy,' Zaïnab recalls. 'He truly felt like a gift. But deep down, we worried about his integration into society.'
Her mother devoted herself entirely to her son, following up with speech therapists and working tirelessly on his development – even while battling cancer in 2013. 'Now she worries constantly about his future,' Zaïnab reveals. 'Who will take care of him if something happens to her?'
'When schools tell us they only accept dyslexic or autistic children, I have to ask: aren't Trisomy 21 children Moroccan too? Don't they have the right to education?' she questions with palpable frustration.
'Why doesn't the government require every educational institution to accept children with special needs of all types, integrating them into regular classrooms while also providing specialized support?'
Her brother's journey reveals the painful cycle many families endure. After years in the same kindergarten class with no advancement, his family found a promising school – Shiraz educational institution – that provided both integration with regular students and specialized support classes.
For the first time, he felt 'like a student among others,' not different from his peers. Despite being 18, he had just completed his first year of middle school, progressing gradually with targeted exams adapted to his level.
'He had his world, but overnight he saw it collapse,' his sister reveals, describing the moment they learned his school would close. 'And now we're back to our starting point from 2010. Where will my brother go?'
The family's early experiences trying to find appropriate schooling proved traumatic. 'We tried a regular private school that functioned more like a daycare to establish a routine for him,' Zaïnab explains.
'But there was no progress because they lacked expertise in supporting these children.' Later attempts at specialized centers proved even worse. 'He would come back either beaten or assaulted and began adopting behaviors he never had before. We saw deterioration instead of improvement.'
The family's desperation echoes that of countless others across Morocco. Most initiatives for Trisomy 21 children exist only in major cities like Casablanca and Rabat, forcing families to uproot their lives and relocate simply to access basic services. Those in small towns and rural areas face even grimmer prospects.
'These children are pieces of heaven given extraordinary abilities and a special kind of intelligence by God,' Zaïnab insists. 'Why do we hold them accountable for something they didn't control? Why don't we support them and help them achieve their dreams?'
'Without their families, there's no one to care for them,' she stresses. 'I can't find appropriate words to describe this situation, especially knowing my brother's case is just one among many. How is it possible that in 2025 Morocco, we find a group of Moroccans with marginalized rights?'
Her brother dreams of traveling alone, driving a car, and working – aspirations she fears may never materialize. 'It breaks my heart that my brother has dreams,' Zaïnab confesses, 'but deep inside, I know he won't be able to achieve them. What about children whose parents don't have health coverage or stable employment? What about those in villages and small cities?'
'We're asking for so little,' she continues. 'When even education becomes a dream that's difficult to achieve, we must ask questions and raise concerns.'
Experts confirm the current situation is 'not optimal' for Trisomy 21 children. While medical advances have extended their life expectancy beyond 50 years, specialized structures for their education remain very rare, leaving parents in regrettable distress.
Yet amid this institutional abandonment, hope persists in the determined voices of families fighting for change. In one of her LinkedIn posts chronicling her family's struggle, Zaïnab concludes with words that balance desperation and determination: 'Perhaps this post will resonate, perhaps it will touch someone who can enlighten us or even help us find a new school. In the meantime, I continue to believe that a more inclusive Morocco is possible.' Tags: down syndromeMorocco's educational systemTrisomic children
