Education and Empowerment for Refugee Girls

Caroline is a beautiful 17-year-old girl. She is elegant in the way she carries herself. She is the eldest in a family of 4 children with the youngest being 1 year old. She lives with her mother and siblings in Kawangware, an informal settlement on the outskirts of the Nairobi. She is in Form 2 in the Girls Empowerment Program (GEP) and has been pursuing fashion and design in the National Industry Training Accreditation (NITA) accredited course at GEP. On a normal day, she wakes up at 4:00 AM to prepare breakfast for her siblings and to prepare them to go to school. She also cooks food, cleans up, and makes the home comfortable for her ailing mother before coming to the GEP. She arrives at 7:30 AM to start her day. “Being in the GEP feels great. I know I can have a normal day, be a girl, and worry about things later,” says a serious Muna.

Her first stop is usually in the vocational training class where she loves spending time with the instructor. She is also a student leader and is usually called upon to help the teacher on duty in case there is an activity to be done by all the girls. She helps in mobilizing the participants or ensuring cleanliness in the campus before classes begin. Being in RefuSHE helps her refocus and live a nearly normal life, having carried her family’s burden on her shoulders for as long as she can remember. As she interacts with the other girls at GEP she remembers to smile and to be the girl that she is, despite the huge responsibilities that she has back at home.

She remembers her life in Eritrea as a small girl with a lot of pride in her eyes for the country that she misses and fears in equal measure. She says that before hatred ruled the hearts of people, she had a good life and a big vision for her life and her family. But she had to grow up very fast at a tender age of 9. “Being young has its advantages because you do not know so much pain and you worry less. I wish I can be a baby again but I know it is not possible” Muna says, looking into the distance as if she has been transported many years back in her life.

I can’t clearly recall, but it was in a rainy season when we heard a loud bang from outside …... we rushed outside to confirm where the sound was coming from. I was shocked to see flames of fire and dark smoke coming from our neighbor’s house and people shouting “kill!! kill! Kill them!!!” Not knowing what to do I was so tense and terrified I hid in a nearby bush. My parents told us to go back to the house but I was afraid I will be burnt inside the house and so I hid in a bush near the house. After 3 hours I saw a crowd of people that was so rowdy. Instantly they entered our house and started to loot our property, and in few seconds, I heard someone crying bitterly and she was talking about the president. I was too young to understand what was going on and I had no one to ask.

I later came to learn that we were being attacked in our village because we were Christians in a Muslim dominated area. This was very tough for my father who was a strong believer in the word of God. We would pray together as a family and there were evening prayers where families would come together to pray. This could not happen anymore. After that incident, it was very hard for us and the other people in the village to hold prayers, go to church, or even talk about Jesus. Churches were burnt down and books in the church too. I was only 15 years old.

My father decided it was not safe and, in the night, my mother packed the little that could be carried, and we left the village. I was worried that I would not go to school, see my friends again, or sing in the church as I used to. All this was unclear to me - how could people who used to be our friends turn against us and we become the enemy. I have never understood how this can happen. We boarded a vehicle that took us into Ethiopia from where my father tried to organize for transport to be as far away as we could from the people who were after him and his family. We traveled for many days but managed to get to what I later got to know was Kenya. It took us almost a month of stopping and taking rests. It was easy since my father has money to pay motels where we would stay for a few days and then start traveling again.

When we got to Kenya, he took us (me, my mother, and my brother) to one Ethiopian family who we believed was also Christian. What I learned from my mother is that he was advised to register as refugees with UNHCR but he did not. My mother told me that his pride could not let him declare himself a refugee or seek help! That is where things started falling apart. He could not pay rent or even feed us. He started quarreling with my mother most of the time. The family started getting tired of his behavior and asked us to leave. This broke my mother so much, seeing us go without food, and not being able to take care of her two children.

In December 2013, we were looking forward to a good Christmas and a bit of normalcy in the family. Our dad was hardly home and any time he came he would beat up my mother. One time he knocked her unconscious and left the house. That is the last day that I saw my father. We were left on our own and life was unbearable for us. A Kenyan grandmother who was our neighbor started inviting us into her house when my mother got late to come home. Over time, she became like our own grandmother, and my mother started drinking and smoking, abusing drugs. She did not even know if we existed. Our house was locked up due to rent arrears and that was another shock in my life. I started working in an Ethiopian family as a house girl. I would wake up at 4, prepare children to go to school, prepare their breakfast, and load a cooler with ice (frozen water) to go and sell in the school over break time. Juggling work, school, and house chores was hard for me but I managed well. The commission from the sales was used to feed my brother through the Kenyan grandmother. I was accused of stealing and the family called the police on me and I was arrested. The Kenyan grandmother relocated to the village and took my brother with her as she could also not take care of herself and my brother.

When I was arrested, I was taken to a remand home for children as I could not be locked up with adults. This really affected me at a tender age. I didn’t understand how people can be so cruel. I wished I could die! Some people who work with refugees were alerted and I was picked from the cells and taken to UNHCR where I met a lady who spoke my language. She told me that she works for an organization that takes care of children especially girls like me and that I will be safe in their home. This was a great moment for me, but I was worried that I did not know where my mother was or how my brother was. This kept haunting me for a long time even after being given a home to stay.

While at the safe house in 2015, I was helped to look for my brother and my mother. It was the hardest moment of my life, despite the joy of being safe. My brother was brought to the safe house and the days became brighter and easy for us. We were loved and cared for. I was enrolled in level 2 in the GEP program. The education is good there. I was exited to the community and reunited with my mother. She was a shadow of the woman I knew. She was pregnant and looking wasted and was living with a man that we were supposed to call dad. I didn’t know how to handle all this. I looked at her as the man introduced her to hard drugs, drinking even when pregnant and being beaten up! I hated men and what they do. My brother didn’t know my mother as she left him when he was so young. He still struggles with this. The man my mother lived with beat her up so badly that she lost half her teeth, dents all over her face and a broken arm. One day I asked her why she cannot walk away and she told me that she will not be able to pay rent and foot other bills. It was painful to see her suffer. RefuSHE started giving me some financial assistance that /I would help her to pay rent and feed us. Initially I would give her the money and the man would take it away from her and so I stopped. I now take care of my brothers. My mother is sickly and weak. She gave birth to another baby boy who is now one year. I take care of all of us starting with my mother. Today I am a better person, a good decision maker, a more focused girl because I have people who understand me and support me. Having two craft courses in dress making and fashion and design, I have a stronger conviction that I can do much more with my life. I have slowly started believing in myself and what I can do. My worries are few compared to the past. In the tailoring class, I have friends who help to bring out the best in me.

RefuSHE has been a mother and sister to me. They have offered to me uncountable services to me - counselling, sanitary towels, talk of education amongst other things. In 2016 when I was exited from the safe house they did shopping for me and from then they have been paying for my rent and buying me food. When sick, they support me with medical care and expenses that come with it.

I am proud to be part of the RefuSHE community and have new friends who keep on inspiring one another on various issues that young ladies face. Thanks for the founders of RefuSHE. You’ve touched my heart and you’ve transformed my life from grass to grace. May God bless all staff who are working day and night to ensure our wellbeing is taken care of.

Sahro fled her home country of Somalia in 2012 in search of safety and a brighter future. Upon arriving to Nairobi, the UNHCR referred her to RefuSHE where Sahro felt immediately welcomed by her new community.  

Through RefuSHE’s Girls’ Empowerment Project (GEP), Sahro enrolled in math, reading, and writing classes. While RefuSHE’s legal advocacy team helped Sahro through the lengthy process of resettlement, she completed her GEP courses and moved on to tailoring classes through RefuSHE’s vocational training program. After seven months of tailoring classes, Sahro joined other refugee artisans at the Artisan Collective to design, make, and sell beautiful handmade scarves.  

In 2013, the Kenyan government decreed that refugees must return to Somalia. Police forces began intimidating refugees by banging on their homes in the dead of night, demanding bribes, and tearing up registration documents. During this time, Sarho’s good friend, Farhiyo, was struck in the face by a policeman, resulting in impaired hearing in her left ear. Frightened by the ensuing violence, Sahro went to stay at the RefuSHE’s safe house for two months. There, she continued her work with the Artisan collective and with RefuSHE’s support, Sahro was able to successfully resettle in Boston last year.  

But Sahro’s story doesn’t end there. A few weeks after resettling in Boston, Sahro traveled to Chicago to speak about her experience at a RefuSHE fundraiser. A listener was so moved by her story that they offered to sponsor her, helping her find work as an artisan pasta maker with the Hogsalt Restaurant group. She has gone from handmaking artisan scarves to pasta! Sahro’s story was even featured on primetime TV, and she laughingly recalls that Somali cab drivers will do a doubletake when she gets in the car, asking, “Hey, are you the Somali girl on the news who makes the pasta?” 

Today, despite the many obstacles faced, Sahro is thriving. She is proud to have a driver’s license and a home in Chicago. She is currently juggling work, marriage, an infant son, and GRE prep courses at Harold Washington University. She aims to be a voice for other refugee girls in need of hope and support. Sahro says, “I want to show them that happiness is possible and to believe in the beauty of their dreams—that, in spite of the pain and struggle of being a refugee, keeping hope alive is everything.”