Fadumo Ibrahim (right) hugs a Somali Bantu woman who
arrived with her family at Sky Harbor International Airport in Phoenix
yesterday.
The Arizona Republic
The Arizona Republic
May 23, 2003
It was easy to
tell the Somali Bantu families apart from the other passengers yesterday at
crowded Sky Harbor International Airport.
They were the
ones with the tired but happy faces, with the bold letters USRP on their sweat
shirts and head scarves provided by the United States Refugee
Program.
The two
families, 15 people in all including six children and two babies, are
among the first Somali Bantus to arrive in the United States after spending more
than a decade languishing in refugee camps in Kenya. They left Nairobi, the
Kenyan capital, Tuesday.
Another
group of Somali refugees has arrived in Tucson, and an additional 40
are still waiting for federal approval for the day they can begin a new life in
a different country.
The Tucson
office of the International Rescue Committee welcomed six
Somali Bantu refugees this week, but the others won't arrive "until the
government decides they can," said Fred Klein, director of the Lutheran
Social Ministries of the Southwest's refugee program in
Tucson.
The new
arrivals will be provided with living quarters and assistance in acclimating to
Tucson, said Miro Marinovich, the IRC's local coordinator. They also are from a
refugee camp in Kenya.
"We always have
the same approach," he said. "For every family, we assign a caseworker who
either speaks their language or is familiar with their culture. We have someone
who provides basic mentoring. We provide a furnished apartment and sign
them up for medical coverage, enroll their children in schools, sign them up for
food stamps and orient them with Tucson." [How nice! Where do I
apply?]
Until
now, these Somali Bantus were a people without a home or a country, and their
arrival in the United States marks the end of a long journey for some of
the world's most persecuted and oppressed people. [by other
Africans]
"We
are very excited. We are very happy," said the only man among the Phoenix
group.
The refugees'
arrivals represent the start of a new chapter of adaptation to a world far
different and more complicated than their rural existence in Africa, U.S.
resettlement officials say.
"This group
represents the truest of refugees in that they literally had no place to
go, [Africa is a large continent] and that is why this country has
so graciously accepted them," said Craig Thoresen ["Son of Thor!
What a discredit to his ancestors!] in describing the Phoenix
arrivals.
Thoresen is the
refugee resettlement director of the Lutheran Social Ministry of the
Southwest. The agency, along with Catholic Social
Services, will help resettle the two families who arrived
Thursday.
Thoresen was among the 20 people who welcomed the Somali Bantu
with flowers and balloons.
"They literally
have been languishing for more then 12 years in refugee camps, and before that
they were victimized in their adopted Somalia, and so this ends a long journey
and struggle for them," Thoresen said.
The welcoming
committee included representatives from several groups that will help the Bantu
adjust to life in Phoenix, including the Islamic Cultural Center of
Tempe, the First Congregational Church of Tempe and
the Somali Association of Arizona.
Cultural, linguistic and physical differences
distinguish the Somali Bantu from other Somali refugees who have been
resettled in the United States, according to researchers Daniel Van Lehman and
Omar Eno.
"The culture of
subjugation under which most of them lived may present special
challenges to their American resettlement case workers," the
researchers wrote.
Coming to the
valley marks the chance for these two families to end oppression that has lasted
for centuries. [I didn't know these refugees were that old.]
The Bantu trace
their roots to Mozambique and Tanzania. During the 18th and 19th centuries,
their ancestors were enslaved by Arab sultans and taken to Somalia, where for
the past 200 years they have been treated as second-class citizens, denied
education and allowed to work only as farmers and laborers, refugee resettlement
officials said.
In Somalia,
they lived mostly along the Juba River "and scratched out a very meager
existence in agriculture," Thoresen said. "They lived in huts with no
electricity and no running water."
After the
overthrow of dictator Mohamed Siad Barre, Somalia plunged into a bloody civil
war that divided the country into feuding ethnic clans and
fiefdoms. The Bantu were attacked, raped and murdered. Thousands of
Somali Bantu, along with other Somalis, fled on foot, mostly to neighboring
Kenya. From 1991 to 2002 the Somali Bantu lived in the Dadaab refugee camp,
along with other Somali refugees who had been the oppressors of the Bantu, while
the United Nations tried to find a home for them. [Tanzania and Mozambique were
going to accept them but changed their minds--only the USA is a big enough
sucker to accept them. If we are so guilt-stricken, why not buy some land
in South Africa and build them a "gated community". It would be
genetically, culturally, and economically cheaper in the long run.]
After the
United States agreed to accept them, the Bantu were moved 900 miles from Dadaab
to the Kakuma refugee camp, where they lived in wood huts, slept on straw mats
and survived on meager rations. [Just like we'll be doing soon if we keep
allowing thousands of Bantu refugees to swarm over us.]
Helping
the Somali Bantu adapt to American life will be one of the biggest
challenges for American resettlement groups, said Joseph Roberson, immigration
and refugee program director for Church World Services in New York.
The organization is one of nine national agencies that will be
responsible for resettling the Somali Bantu. Many Somali Bantu children
have known no other life outside of refugee camps, resettlement officials also
point out.
"It's a
group that in no way has been exposed to a Western way of life with modern
conveniences," Roberson said.
On
their flight over, several of the Somali Bantu children got sick and
vomited. [You can thank "our" State Dept. for sharing this pertinent
detail that is supposed to heighten our empathy.]
"We've never
flown on an airplane before, so it was kind of overwhelming," the Somali Bantu
man said. [Neither have my children--so what!]
In 1999, the United States agreed to accept 12,000 Somali
Bantu after efforts by the United Nations to resettle them
in Mozambique and other parts of Africa failed. The process was delayed by the
Sept. 11 terrorist attacks and subsequent concerns over homeland security, which
slowed the resettlement of refugees in the United States to a trickle, according
to refugee resettlement officials. [What a shame!]
The
12,000 Somali Bantu will be resettled in 50 cities during the next two years. [A
good opportunity to organize our people around a visible
threat.]
So far,
U.S. immigration officials have approved only 1,200 to come to the United
States, and the first 74 Somali Bantu began arriving this week,
according to resettlement officials. Some Somali Bantu families are also being
resettled in Denver and several other cities.
Arizona
is expected to receive between 600 and 800 Somali Bantu during the next two
years, said Charles Shipman, the state's refugee resettlement
coordinator.
From the
airport, the Somali Bantu were taken to their new homes in apartments rented for
them by resettlement groups. A meal prepared by resettlement workers also
awaited them.
During the next
several months, refugee resettlement workers will assist the Bantu with food,
clothing, school enrollment, jobs and English lessons.
Citizen
writer C.T. Revere contributed to this article.
Phones,
flush toilets will be new to most refugees [Just the kind of people we
need! Which Christian volunteer agency will teach them to
flush?]
In the
United States, the Somali Bantu face a culture that will be as foreign to them
as any on Earth, refugee resettlement officials say.
These are some
of the challenges they may face: [A woman in Rangely, Maine who was repeatedly
raped by a Bantu exemplifies the challenges the rest of us will
face.]
Housing
- The Bantu have had almost no exposure to Western housing.
Electricity, flush toilets, telephones, kitchen and laundry appliances are
foreign to most Bantu refugees.
Education - Education was out of reach for most Bantu
children, who often worked on their parents' farms instead of attending school.
Formal education began to be available to them only in refugee camps. Most
Bantu adults are illiterate and will need to participate in an intensive
literacy campaign.
Work
- The Bantu possess few job skills outside of farming
but are known as resourceful and hard workers who were willing to accept any job
in Somali and Kenya.
Language - The Somali Bantu from the Juba River Valley
primarily speak Af Maay, one of two variations of the Somali language. Others
speak tribal languages from Tanzania or Swahili. In refugee camps, some Somali
Bantu have been learning English.
Women
- Somali Bantu women have many special
needs. Many have experienced female circumcision, rape, a lack of education,
high birth rates, and single-parent status.
Life of
hardship for descendants of slaves [Pardon me, while I get my
handkerchief.]
The Somali
Bantu are the descendants of slaves taken from Tanzania and northern Mozambique
in the late 19th century to the southern Somali coast, where they remain
a persecuted minority.
Thousands have
spent the past decade languishing in camps along the dangerous Somali-Kenyan
border, unable to find a haven. Kenya, unable to meet the needs of its
own people, much less the hundreds of thousands of refugees from other African
nations, has been unable to provide permanent refuge. [So, why should
we?]
In 2000, the
United States agreed to consider resettlement for members of the Bantu group,
but the war on terror and national security concerns delayed their
arrival.
Yesterday marked the arrival of the first of some 12,000 Somali
Bantu refugees under consideration for relocation to the United States,
including Arizona.
Source:
U.S. Department of
State