Finding community in a new country

Finding community in a new country

By commoner • Jan 23rd, 2009 • Category: 2009, Features, Focus, Jan 23 - 29, 2009

Nick Logan
nc616634@dal.ca

Mukeba Kankonde came to Canada 11 months ago as a refugee from the Democratic Republic of Congo. The 29-year-old bears the physical scars of his war-torn country.

“I was almost dead,” he says as he tells of being shot. It’s not easy for him to recount his life story and he knows it’s even harder for people to believe it.

“Sometimes when you explain to somebody about your situation, he thinks maybe it’s a movie.”

Kankonde was a construction worker in Congo and escaped thanks to the help of priests with whom he worked. When he arrived in Halifax last February, he spoke no English and spent his first days alone in a hospital with appendicitis.

Other than doctors, the first people he met were from the Halifax Refugee Clinic.

The staff and clients of the clinic have become family for him and shouts of “rafiki” – Swahili for “friend” – greet him when he walks through the door of the Grafton Street office. Almost everyone he’s met in the last year has been connected with the organization in some way.

The clinic is handling 46 claims by people awaiting their hearings or holding out for a final decision – about 20 per cent of the refugees who settle in Nova Scotia annually.

The staff assist with legal issues, but the individuals must make a life for themselves.

Refugees have to overcome the “same obstacles as any newcomer,” says the clinic’s executive director, such as learning English and becoming a part of the community.

“It’s really difficult for people to stay in limbo like that and not know if they’re going to be deported in a year and a half,” said Julie Chamagne. “I think that really touches on how integrated they feel sometimes.”

Having a traumatic past adds to the difficulty of making connections with new people. The possibility of being deported looms over them while their claims are processing.

She says finding a place in the community is ultimately up to the individual.

Julio Castellon is a 40-year-old Cuban who has been in Canada since July. He came to Halifax as a crew member aboard a merchant marine ship and sought “political” refuge here when the ship departed in November. He says he feels safe here and makes no secret of his story.

“I don’t hide my status. I realize when I’m talking about that, people show some interest into what’s going on.”

Castellon encourages other refugees to talk about their experiences. Openness helps people understand his situation and the process he is going through, he says, but not all have that same sense of security.

One client at the refugee clinic is a middle-aged South-Asian man who asked not to be identified. Even though he was granted refugee status last fall, he doesn’t feel that it’s safe to talk about where he comes from. His family is still living in his homeland and has received threats.

He’s an outgoing, talkative man who has made many friends in Halifax, but he feels it’s a small enough world that people could find out where he is: the last anyone knew, he was in Europe.

“I never talk (about it) to other people,” the man says, “Only to government people, like immigration, or the clinic.” But, he adds, people respect his privacy.

The Halifax Refugee Clinic only assists those who have already arrived in Canada. Some claimants come on business or as workers on ships, like Castellon, and request refugee status after entering the country. Others take the chance of traveling to Canada and make their claims when they go through customs.

Each year, Saint Mary’s University accepts one refugee student through the World University Service of Canada. The program provides first-year tuition and accommodation for the recipient as well as sponsorship for a student visa.

This means the student has resident status and can work while getting an education. This can be another obstacle when students are trying to find a place in the university community, says the university’s manager of international student services.

“Other international students may look upon them as being fully sponsored and lucky,” says Alana Robb. “(They) can be resentful towards that.”

It is one more thing that can keep refugees from telling their story to people, she says.

There is a presumption that refugees were poor and destitute and are now living here on taxpayer dollars, says Beku Fesshaye owner of Kilimanjaro Books and Cafe in Halifax.

“People don’t want to hear that you’re a refugee.” He left his family and life as a bank manager behind in Eritrea in 1991.

“You’re seen as a second-class citizen,” he says of telling people about being a refugee. “It’s like saying you’re HIV-positive.”

Fesshaye spoke at a lecture called “Taking Refuge Among Us: A Canadian Experience” held at the Spring Garden Memorial Library this week.

Greater understanding and tolerance, he said, would come from more media coverage of what refugees have to go through to flee their situations and start over in a new country.