Short Essay 1

Moulid Hujale has lived in a refugee camp in northeastern Kenya since he was 10 years old, when him and his family were forced to flee their native Somalia. It embarrasses him when he introduces himself as “a Somali refugee living in Kenya.” (Hujale. 2011), but he believes in who he is. Although all of this information is entirely true, ultimately I cannot share who Moulid Hujale is, and I especially cannot say where he is going. That is a gift left to Hujale alone to give, and that is exactly what he does in his article “KENYA-SOMALIA: A refugee’s story.” Similar to Asgedom, in his book Of Beetles and Angels, and many of the Lost Boys of Sudan, in God Grew Tired of Us, the protagonist is left to lead the audience through a story all their own, on their own, and this is precisely what makes these stories so powerful. No third party can share what refugees have gone through: how their identities have been affected, how hard they have had to work, or how they have kept their spirits alive through it all, quite like they themselves can.

In Hujale’s article, he portrays the Kenyan government as doing the bare minimum to keep him and his people alive. It’s an interesting situation, as 24 year-old Hujale has spent the majority of his life stuck in a limbo identity. “I am no longer in Somalia and yet I am not a Kenyan citizen; so where do I belong?” (Hujale. 2011). The Kenyan government was willing to take these refugees in, but they are not even given the right to attend the University to obtain a vital education. “I wonder what makes us so different. Are we not human beings like them?” (Hujale, 2011). This sense of isolation and identity crisis is common among refugees. In God Grew Tired of Us, the audience watches as the Lost Boys attempt to acclimate to this strange new culture through entering the workforce, attending school, or advocating for their people still in Sudan. In Of Beetles and Angels, readers waited as Asgedom struggled to find his place within American culture and American peers. He fought persistently through persecution at school, in sports, and even at Harvard University in order to eventually find peace in where he is and what he is doing. He eventually makes the conclusion, “I have found greater value in other dreams.” (Asgedom. 2001.pg 134.). Refugees are always forced to develop a new identity, or adapt to being torn between what has been left behind and what lies before.

Refugees hold an unbelievable amount of strength and determination. This is personified brilliantly in Asgedom. The manner he describes waking up early to train for track, or how he put every ounce of strength he had toward gaining outstanding grades and ultimately a full ride scholarship to Harvard University—if only everyone had that amount of motivation. Refugees have gone through so much, and their stories are what give them their unceasing drive. Their stories also provide them with a sense of incessant compassion towards others dealing with pain caused by suffering. As Asgedom described the story of his brother, Tewolde, and how he would continually give to others, even when he had no resources, he always had something to offer a fellow sufferer. As soon as Hujale learned that education was his gateway to a better life, he gave academics absolutely everything he had. “At the end of my final days in high school, my enthusiasm to keep learning was almost palpable.” (Hujale. 2011.) This is a sharp contrast to the typical “senioritis” experienced by American high school graduate hopefuls. Refugees have a sense for knowing what it is going to take to make their life better, and they display the willingness and dedication to do everything it will take, no matter what the price is. This makes sense, because when one has lost everything, one has nothing left to lose, and this results in an incredible drive and fortitude.

The most impactful part of a refugee’s story is looking at their spirits, which continuously shine through, despite everything they have been through. Refugees continue to dream.

My ambition is to be a professional journalist and report on humanitarian news. I would like to change the world through writing and document refugee crises or stories that are not heard and extract them for the world to see, and act…my spirit is so alive, and I have a feeling that one day I will see the reality of my dreams. (Hujale. 2011.)

Hujale describes his home for nearly two decades as desolate, hopeless, and unjust. How, then, is he able to see past this into the light that his future beholds? How are the Lost Boys able to never lose faith that their families remain alive, and never stop looking for them? How is Asgedom able wish his audience to “remember this story about an immigrant’s dream, because as long as you remember, you’ll share the spirit of the two who dreamed it.” (Asgedom. 2001. pg. 134) There is something about the undying light within a refugee’s spirit, and this light is amplified exponentially when one experiences it through the refugee firsthand. Refugee’s have gone through much, they have learned much, and they have much to share. 

The Spirit of a Refugee

The spirit of a refugee is something to be changed by. From enduring more pain and adversity than many of us will ever know, to uprooting their entire lives in order to seek refugee, to being slapped in the face by culture shock and more hardships, and finally, at the end of all of this, seeking to give more of yourself for the sake of others. The amount of pain and suffering refugees have endured is astonishing. Hron describes the official definition of pain in Suffering Matters, “pain is an unpleasant sensory or emotional experience associated with actual or potential tissue damage or described with such damage.” (pg. 36) He further explains that this pain can, of course, also include psychological or emotional damage, it is not bounded to purely physical pain. I appreciate this definition because it touches on the level of damage refugees experience; however, no definition can realistically capture the effects this pain has on its victims. Through the documentary God Grew Tired of Us and Asgedom’s book Of Beetles and Angels, we have seen a glimpse of the stories of some refugees, and similarly to what Melissa so wisely stated in our ACC orientation “And once you have meet a refugee, you have done just that—you have met a refugee,” we cannot assume that because we have seen or read about a few refugees stories, we know what the life of a refugee is like. However, one common theme threaded throughout every refugee’s story is joy, hope, and love embedded deep within his or her spirit. To me, the most incredible part about these refugees we have encountered is not that they have gone through pain with fortitude, but that they have gone through pain with fortitude and have never stopped being a source of light within their world even for a single moment. “Of the gifts that we can give, the greatest is to see beauty in each other—in essence, to give beauty to each other. When we give that beauty, we prepare our hearts to receive it back.” (Asgedom, pg 134). These are the words Asgedom leaves us with after sharing his heart-wrenching story of pain, hardship, but ultimately beauty. The spirit of perseverance and hard work while spreading joy through beauty displayed within every refugee we have encountered—this is what changes and inspires me. That spirit additionally leaves me asking, how? How is it possible to go through what this person has been through, and still display hope and joy in everything they do? I can only hope that I may learn to live with a similar spirit radiating from me, and that ultimately my life will change the lives of others just as the stories from these refugees has changed mine. 

A Refugee's Story

One important aspect about a refugee’s story is that it is entirely unique and entirely his or her own. As Fadlallel said in his discussion of refugees, “the life histories of these Lost Boys of Sudan were reduced to a narrative.” This is often the case when sharing refugee stories. These stories are powerful, and it is most unfortunate when entire groups of refugees have their stories clumped together to make a selling point. After having gone through more pain and hardship within a few months than most experience in a lifetime, the least we can do for refugees is to be available to listen to them share their stories. There honestly is something healing about being able to openly share what one has gone through, and knowing one will be accepted no matter what is presented. A problematic feature of most refugees’ stories is that, due to the trauma experienced during their time of flight, refugees often cannot recall details from their exodus. As Mawi explained in Of Beetles and Angels, in order to learn what happened to him and his family when they fled Ethiopia, him and his siblings would often eavesdrop on the adults sharing their stories from that time over coffee. Imagine not being able to even remember the most defining and traumatic event in your life. By listening to the stories of other refugees, these individuals may begin to reshape their own story as events begin to come back to them. An additional value to a refugee’s story is that it can change us, as the listeners. Hearing what a refugee has been through and then seeing their manifesting spirits of unbroken hope and joy, as so clearly displayed within the Lost Boys in God Grew Tired of Us. Refugees can alter our perspectives and shape our viewpoint from our “American bubble” to a compassionate and accepting global viewpoint—the simple telling of their stories has as much to offer us as we could ever offer them through our service.  

God Grew Tired of Us / Fadlalla Review

As Fadlalla argued within his discussion of refugees, I agree that NGOs (non governmental organizations) have been playing a larger and more vital role in the effort to alleviate suffering among refugees. However, as Fadlalla discussed, they “often condense the voices of the poor and displace them into a universal ‘suffering form’ in order to attract funding.” This is spot on. I so often see advertisements, documentaries, or presentations about the “poor helpless refugees” and how we must do something to help them. What I most appreciated about God Grew Tired of Us is that it was real. It simply strived to tell the stories about the reality of what the Lost Boys have been through, and it did a wonderful job of emphasizing the hope alive in their spirits. This was the thing that struck me hardest during my adventure in Africa—the hope and joy still very much alive within the people. The people we look to as desolate and violent are in reality caring, compassionate, loving, and zealous. I loved the scenes in God Grew Tried of Us of the refugee camps; as heartbreaking as the reality of this camp is, it was refreshing to see the boys depicted as loving and caring—not as war criminals.

Another aspect of Fadlalla’s discussion I connected with was “the life histories of these Lost Boys of Sudan were reduced to a narrative.” It troubles me how often we see refugee’s stories being shared in the media. I am by no means trying to say we should not share these stories, because they are powerful and deserve to be told. What I am saying is that these stories should not be clumped together to construct an identical identity for refugees as a whole. Our job should not be to bundle all refugees together and attempt to help them collectively. As God Grew Tired of Us showed, each refugee has an individual story, and I’m realizing that the key to helping is to discover each refugee’s unique story and only from there may we begin identifying needs.