June 20 is World Refugee Day.

Hundreds of thousands Uzbek refugees need clothes and water after fleeing violence in which 171 people have died in Kyrgysztan (Guardian.co.uk).

"You can take away my home but you can't take away my future. (Theme 2010)"

The 1951 Refugee Convention establishing UNHCR spells out that a refugee is someone who "owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality, and is unable to, or owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country."

There were 43.3 million forcibly displaced people worldwide at the end of 2009.

Of these, 15.2 million were refugees, asylum-seekers and 27.1 million internally displaced persons.

10.4 million of these are under UNHCR protection. (UNHCR, 2009 Global Trends)

These Internationally ordained days of awareness; such as World Womens day, day of the African child and Day of the Refugee are helpful ways of having a collective discussion of underrepresented persons. It is a fantastic opportunity to initiate dialogue in ones community. I especially think its a helpful way for teachers to incorporate issues of social justice into learning. For example, surrounding this day, teachers could have the students engage in few personal, written or historical accounts of stateless persons. After a class discussion and sharing around ideas of citizenry, ethnicity and human rights students could write their own stories, poems or drawings that reflect the notion of statelessness. It is of great historic import that we begin to broaden ideas of belonging in order to fit the increasing millions of people that are forced or choose to migrate. As our environmental systems continue in the direction of demise there will be increasing numbers of people fleeing their homelands. All of these aspects must be apprised across the lands.

Refugees too should be given the opportunity to tell their own stories. I have found self-narrative and, creative writing and poetry a powerful way of teaching English as a Second Language to refugee clients. Whether it is the story of the flight from their country of origin, or just a life account it is important to give every person a sense and right to Voice, and being heard. Storytelling also builds community.

Even when people are resettled, repatriate or are re-naturalized the journey of perseverance does not cease. The rebuilding and cultural detachment, grim realities of come of resettlement dreams. But despite challenge, making decisions everyday in order to give family a chance a new life and a brighter future.

We can do things too. These are just a few organizations that help refugees in their process of seeking protection to rebuilding lives :

The International Rescue Committee

Refugee Council, USA

Human Rights First

UNHCR

Do donate to The KYRGYZSTAN & UZBEKISTAN crisis by clicking here.

We Could be doing more for the displaced among us.

Day of the African Child

On this day 'Africa observes the Day of the African Child, in memory of thousands of black school children who were maimed and killed in the 1976 Soweto uprising, as they took to the streets to protest the inferior quality of their education and to demand their right to be taught in their own language...' You can read more on the endpoverty2015 site.

This day provides us for an opportunity to remember children and their mothers, and to reflect deeply and act upon the progress for child welfare in Africa and around the world. I think its especially important to recollect the reason why those school children in Soweto moved to the streets; They were asking for relevant education, taught in their language. Too many nations, including Tanzania, are teaching in the language of the colonizer. I believe that the security and health of children greatly reflects the state of the world. We all have a great deal of work to do. Children, like all people, have a right to flourish.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, "Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?"
Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that
other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give
other people permission to do the same.
As we're liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others."

- Marianne Williamson (many, including myself, have attributed this to Nelson Mandela, which I have discovered is incorrect)

World Society perspective in Schools?

“The international system of peoples and states is characterized by such extensive interdependencies and the historical crisscrossing of fates and fortunes that the scope of special as well as generalized moral obligations to our fellow human beings far transcends the perspective of the territorially bounded state-centric system… I shall defend the perspective of a world society as the correct vantage point from which to reason about obligations across borders.”
(Seyla Benhabib ‘The Rights of Others; Aliens, residents and citizens.’)

Benhabib takes an important stand in political theory in the modern age, in which notions of state and citizenship are undergoing transformation and disaggregation. In an era when unprecedented numbers of people are moving, or being displaced the needs of migrants and the murky waters of Nationalism are issues of paramount importance.

Refugee camps and transit centers provide important insight into ‘The rights of others,’ the dismal reality of life with an obscured sense of citizenry. What is our moral obligation to education? As I have made mention, the camps that I encountered in western Tanzania have operated National education programs; Congolese curriculum and exams in the Congolese camp, and Burundian curriculum (when education was still active in the Burundian camp) respectively. This is supposed to give the country’s nationals a sense of belonging, and an institutionalized recognition upon their pending return. So, although the community initiates much of the education informally, the systems eventually put in place are national, operated from inside the borders of the countries they left.

Here is a perfect example of how far we have to go before transcending state-centrism; Schools still operate as an instrument for nationalist ideals, while humans themselves exist far outside straightforward ideas of territory and selfhood. When will schools begin to demonstrate the scope of human experience? When will notions of selfhood and the community be integrated into curriculum? As people continue to move and are increasingly displaced we will be asked to face these questions.

It is also important to recognize that countries of conflict or civil war may not have a reliable education system, or more often, schools are used as training grounds for the next soldiers, or compatriots of insurgent forces. Therefore, we must ask ourselves, what is the appropriate curriculum for pupils who exist outside the Nation?
I am an advocate of the development of Place-based education. As always, the reoccurring issue of evaluation, and popularity of the National exam prevents this from being easily established.

Roots and Shoots on the Ground

-The Jane Goodall institute in Kigoma also has a division that promotes HIV education and family planning. UKIMWI is the Swahili word for HIV/AIDS.

The Jane Goodall Institute has also founded numerous education and conservation initiatives that have greatly evolved in the last twenty years. Roots and Shoots clubs were launched in Dar Es Salaam and Kigoma as educational motivation that advanced care and concern for animals, the environment and the human community. Now roots and shoots is active in over 100 countries.

It mostly works with school children, who are facilitated by a peer or teacher volunteer to root-out a club vision that is relevant to their community. They select their own leadership amongst themselves, including the role of an investigative journalist who will track their work and the state of affairs in their community. Then the children become advocates for their vision, for educating others and for building a sense of responsibility for their environment and its people.

I have already written of this initiative a few times now, but will continue to emphasize my support. When people, especially children are called forth to participate in decision making it is much more likely that the initiative will be effective. I will later expound upon this notion of participatory assessment and its particular importance for disadvantaged communities. Refugees, for example, must be allowed to participate in the decisions, findings and protection of their unique communities. Especially women, otherwise they will likely be exploited.
Roots and Shoots were previously working with children in one of the camps that was recently closed. And although the refugees who were consolidated into new camps are no longer in contact with an official structured club, because the program was 'student run' some students continue to share their knowledge. He showed me drawings from students who once learned about health and the environment through the roots and shoots program, and who still promote the information they were entrusted.



Here are a few examples of their work/social messages from letters they sent to the Program manager, their friend:

- Don't just cut trees, plant them.


- Hunting/poaching is not sustainable. Raising your own animals is.


- Don't go to the bathroom outside where your waste will contaminate the environment you live from. Build a proper long-drop instead.

Gombe Stream National Park

Fifty years ago the famed paleontologist Louis Leakey sent his assistant, Jane Goodall to a remote area in Tanzania. He encouraged her capacity to observe the chimpanzee population with fresh eyes, not yet burdened with science. It was then that Jane commenced her work with the Chimps at Gombe Stream, where she would advance research on, and create relationships with the primate whose DNA most closely resembles humankind.

Through her diligent work and familiarity with this forest and its habitants, Jane has developed an extraordinary grasp of the interconnectivity of people, animals and environment. Goodall’s study of the ‘shadow of man,’ the relation of predecessor with descendant, developed into an increasing foresight regarding the future. Dr. Goodall has committed herself to becoming the spokesperson for our predecessors, and our children. She travels 300 days a year, giving talks and initiating programs (Roots and Shoots among others) which foster guardianship in children; for people, animals and the environment. Gombe Stream is now a National Park, where researchers still observe and protect the 106 Chimpanzees that reside within its forest.

If you travel by boat from Kigoma in two hours you will reach the rocky shore and white-sanded beach that is the entrance to Gombe Stream. Jane’s house is still there, untouched since the 70s when it was built, simple and sturdy. It is modest, as is the Park’s resthouses; small bandas with grated windows to keep baboons out. You don’t need much; it is paradisiacal on the shore of Lake Tanganyika, the beach met by thick, rich forest that rises into lush hillside. The friendly guides take visitors into the forest, communicating with trackers by radio; they strive to give you a marked chimp experience.
Like most who visit, my encounter was rife with close contact.

Along this great waters edge
I walk the rocky shore,
All shades and shapes of stone
worn smooth with time,
the constant crashing of waves,
the sun and moon rotations,
imprint the eternal present
on this lakeshore.
The forest extends to the water.
Green woodland, white stone, blue lake
I step onto the earthen pathway and
all thoughts are left behind
this kingdom extends beyond the mind
saturating my perception
with the fecundity of wet earth
morning’s dew and sunshine on foliage.
Decaying leaves blanket the ground in hues of dusky brown
littered with fallen flowers of pristine white
as though some child scattered them with delight
so the butterflies flit and whirl, quiver and dart
with flawless lightness of being
calling me to do the same.
A close relative to our kind lets out a few cries
then arrives on the path on all fours
and swaggers to a nearby tree
reaching around the soft white bark
with five long fingers
not too different from my own
He climbs to the highest limbs
where the morning sunlight can bask him
sitting quietly in lotus pose
chewing leaves,
picking them off like grapes from the vine.
Time does not exist now
it is perpetual morning;
simple filling of hunger,
the warmth of sun following night.
And when he is satisfied
he propels along the canopy top
a black shadow of swift movement
bringing sticks, leaves and his excreta earthbound
Then he is here again,
sitting in a tree at eye level
as though getting some amusement from the shock
of his waste on my clothes.
We lock eyes,
historical time fuses
and then he is gone
only his scent remains
Arousing my senses;
the morning forest
perfumed so sweetly with dew, damp soil, decay,
Life
So strangely familiar are these smells that seemingly
cocoon me.
the womb of my mother?
Or perhaps the memory of our forest predecessors
still singing from my bones.

Kasulu

People prepared me for my journey to Kasulu. ‘Oooh, it is very dusty there!’ they warned, as though I was mad for making the journey. But this particular destination has been calling me since I first met Burundian families at the IRC (International Rescue Committee) who described the settlements where Grandmothers raised two generations before leaving. Those camps are closed now, the 1972 Burundians have repatriated, resettled or been integrated as citizens throughout Tanzania. Only two camps remain in the region that once hosted ten. Slowly slowly the government is closing asylum space, ceasing almost all services in one of the camps and urging for voluntary repatriation. Yet, between the two camps there are almost 100,000 Congolese and Burundians that linger still amidst two worlds.

I get on the dala dala after an hour of waiting while young hustlers fill the small van to its utmost. Once we finally set off I realize that there are at least (that I can see from my spot in the back) 25 people in the van; 5 infants, 6 school children, 4 young women (including myself) 4 mothers, 3 grandmothers, one boy, one man and one driver. We speed along a dirt road with dust as fine as flour and red as blood, it enters the windows like smoke. Luckily, the women have warned me and I have covered my face and hair in a wrap, only my sunglasses exposed. I can hardly see the landscape through the dust, but every so often we stop to let someone out – they are returning home to a place that seems like nowhere.

Three hours later we are in Kasulu and I get a motorcycle lift to the UNHCR (United Nations High Commission for Refugees) where my host greets me. Susan is an Iranian/Dutch lawyer who loves her job. I only met her last weekend and already she has taught me a great deal about Refugee Rights and the politics, joys and trials of working in the field. That night we have a late dinner with a woman from the IRC and I am all ears, and questions.

I am awestruck by the ubiquitous nature of the IRC woman’s beauty. She was raised in India, by her English mother and Japanese-American father – I begin to notice a theme concerning place, or placelessness amidst people here. When she finds out that I am interested in education at the camps she exclaims with passion,
– Well have you Heard the situation? !
I have heard so many different things in the past week that I am not sure what situation she is referring to.
– There haven’t been any education programs in Mtabila camp for over a year!
I have heard this and I’m very glad she is bringing it up. Mtabila is the Burundian camp. In hope to accelerate ‘voluntary’ repatriation, the government of Tanzania has been nonchalantly bringing services to a close. Approximately 35,000 people live in the Mtabila camp and it is probable that nearly half of them are children. First they closed the Secondary schools, not long after they closed all primary schools. What happens when children have nowhere to be? Let your imagination go wild.

The NGOs that work in Kasulu cannot dissent the government, but can only deliberate until some resolution is made. Only now, a year later have the education responsibilities been handed over to the IRC – who is permitted to facilitate informal education – that is, games. Yes, organized play will at least gather the children together, accounting for them, providing a basic need, their right to protection. The hope is to integrate informal education and empowerment through the games, and soon injecting numeracy and basic literacy.

This is all happening now. As well as a hand over from one NGO to another of the responsibilities related to education. Unfortunately the politics and pedantic bureaucracy in place will prevent me from visiting the camps themselves. I do not feel downcast, as there are some local volunteers and UNHCR family members who have been here for months without ever entering. Instead I meet with and talk to people who have committed their lives to the situation, people who have found their place amidst the placeless. Instead I walk around and talk to children in the area, their faces and hair reddened with the dust of Kasulu.

What is the What

Do you know what the What is?

I’m still not quite sure, but Dave Eggers book, ‘What is the What’ is one of the most illuminating accounts of one boys life I have ever read. Achek Valentino Deng is a Sudanese ‘Lost boy’ who spends most of his childhood running from conflict, and all of his adolescence in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya. Eggers based the book from Achek’s unimaginable true story that represents the constant battle of so many boys whose childhood was robbed in the face of civil war and whose resettlement in America only presented a whole new set of challenges.

If you haven’t already, read it.

For Achek and so many others, education becomes the one salvation from the toils of the camp and the nightmares of the past. He is schooled in camp and his success and enthusiasm gives him further opportunities, such as joining a theatre troupe. To me, this is one example of a fun, informative and informal teaching model. You take a group of interested youth leaders, outgoing and/or willing to be empowered. You then take relevant issues that are greatly affecting the community; such as, arranged marriage, HIV/AIDS, traditional medicine, rape, poaching –
Then, you write a potent theatre piece about one of these topics. The youth present it to their community, reaching everyone from youth, to elders, and the illiterate.
I am an advocate of theatre for social change. It was this theatre troupe that first took Achek Deng and his compatriots outside of the Kakuma refugee camp walls to Nairobi for a drama competition. It was the first time they had left the barren land of their camp since their arrival more than seven years before. It changed them forever to have the opportunity to share, to be listened to. These are the sorts of programs that really give voice to the disadvantaged. Storytelling, one of our oldest traditions, must continue to be drawn on as a tool for educating.

I am grateful to Achek Vaentino Deng for telling his story, for making his existence and the plight of his people known. And I am beholden by Dave Eggers capacity to write.

A Promise

The Sun sets on Lake Tanganyika, sinking behind the mountains of the D.R.C.

The Ahadi (promise) Institute is located within the Newman Institute of Social Work; the only higher education center in the region. It is a very small institution, graduating about 16 students a year. The lovely Ahadi director, Edison, has been doing work with refugees since 1998. I will not go into great detail here about the origin of conflict that brought refugees from Burundi, Congo and Rwanda, but I will give a brief timeframe. The first camp was raised in 1972, for Burundians that fled ethnic conflict. This camp is separate from the others, and has been treated differently considering that two generations would be born inside the camp. In 2008 the Burundians were finally given a choice. Either they could become citizens, or voluntarily repatriate. The Tanzanian government naturalized about 160,000 Burundians, approximately 20,000 returned home and thousands more were resettled.
The other 9 camps followed in the wake of further conflict in Burundi, beginning in 1993, when the President died, through 1996. There were a smaller number of Rwandan refugees that arrived during the 1994 genocide, which were swiftly repatriated the next year. And, beginning in 1996, the Congolese camps were built.

It was in 1996 that the Ahadi institute was involved in initiating groups that would bring youth together, to protect, and in order to avoid delinquency. At first this was community-based, run by refugee volunteers, without solid structure in place. Then, it was decided that education should be based on the National systems of the people in mind. Thus, negotiations were made between the camps and the Ministers of Education in Congo and Burundi. They believed that National programs and pedagogy should be employed in camps in order to advance the youth and prepare them for reintegration into their countries of origin. The development of structured schools would also keep students engaged, rather than idle or exploited for labor. Proper books and exams were procured from the countries. Then teachers were identified from within the camp.

Teacher’s qualifications were assessed and then teacher training and examinations followed in order to ensure high standards. Then, a number of primary and secondary schools were built in the camps, with names like ‘Kilimanjaro Primary,’ showing all signs of conventional schools except that they were deterritorialized from their country. During exam periods representatives from the countries come and supervise, and to those who pass, a very formal certificate is bestowed on the student in order to ensure credit upon repatriation. People really value certificates here.
When students began completing secondary school the ‘Institute Superior Pedagogique (ISP)’ was started in order to occupy people and feed hungry minds. It provides higher education through distance learning. There have been many refugees who have written their dissertation from within camps, often focusing on issues that they are encounter every day – like the frequency of rape and its effects on women. I didn’t ask about the ratio of men and women in these programs, but it is my guess that most who reach the ISP level are men. The programs available focus on the socio-economic development of the region. ‘Managers, lawyers, economists, social workers, and teachers are all required to generate a well-functioning and prosperous society,’ the director emphasizes, pointing to a brochure.

This program could be reputed as ‘community-based’ as it has also established community centers in Burundi and Congo for students whose studies might be interrupted by repatriation. The degrees are launched and developed according to the needs and possibilities of the local environment and maintain focus on sustainable development and peace studies. It is my feeling that the program is highly encouraging, yet exists with insubstantial reach. Today there are only 2 camps left in Tanzania, one Congolese and one Burundian. The latter’s services, including all education programs, were discontinued by the Tanzanian government in Spring of 2009. Their ‘promise’ has been broken.

Secrets

– There are many secrets in Kigoma. an American recently informed me.

I was trying to decipher the meaning, and covered a few things in my head before understanding what she was saying. Was she referring to a high prevalence of witchcraft? The region is known for this, it isn’t really a secret. Then, I recognized how many different people I had spoken to, whom did not mention their background while conversing, yet spoke perfect French. Par hazzare?

– People are hiding their country of origin.

It is no wonder that people would begin to conceal their country of origin if it was the reason that they fled persecution in their own country. Some of these people are perfectly legal residents in Tanzania, albeit still up against intensifying Nationalist sentiment in the country, and more often, longing to abandon an identity that does not serve them in moving forward. Again, like the ‘tribeless’ children in Ms. Sophia’s class – those hailing from Rwanda are at risk of intense questioning if they utter their birthplace. It also calls them to remember a past of conflict so thick that anyone would want to forgo their roots.

But what about the ‘Right to Human membership?’

Brothers of Charity

In Kigoma town there is a seemingly modest building, with two classrooms near the road, built of thick reeds and thatch, a chalkboard and benches. On the sign that faces the road it is written, ‘Brothers of Charity’ with the offical seal, as well as the Ahadi (which means, Promise in Swahili) Institute, the Maendeleo (Progress) youth center, Chemchemi (Spring, fountainhead) education resource center and the Africa Development Education network. I was drawn inside, greeted and was soon in dialogue with the director. People are always very willing to talk here.
A Belgium man named Stanley started the center. He has lived in the Great Lakes region for over 30 years, first in Rwanda, then Burundi and briefly the DRC, as though following the circular nature of conflict that has plagued the region, before he finally settled in Kigoma – bringing with him some orphans from his previous homes. The center is alive. There are elders, children, teachers bustling to and fro, some seeking assistance or food, others helping. Soon I discover that it is not just a center, but also a boy’s home – 100 young men live here. One boy, Jean Michelle takes me around.

The 100 boys and young men are squeezed into dormitories with bunk beds. A few of them are playing outside. Jean Michelle points at one and explains that he has epilepsy, which in many African countries is not recognized as a medical condition, but a mark of black magic. Here, he is seen by the Doctor and taken care of by his brothers. Another boy is from Congo, which puts him at a disadvantage, as he has no papers and must conceal his identity in order to remain under care. Now he is a boy and can get away with it, but as an adult it will be far more complicated. I asked J-M if there are other boys from areas of conflict –
“Because of Tanzanian politics we hide ourselves if we are refugee.” he said.
There are groups of people around the compound doing various tasks, boys washing their clothes, a man cooking beans and ugali in giant pots over a fire, an elderly woman sitting on the ground looking out from eyes that seem to have lost their light. He tells me she has lost her mind. She can be at peace here. The programs range from providing basic needs to GED style academic programs that qualify young adults who were unable to finish school. They also provide clubs, like boy scouts and the Upendo (love) club, both which organize service trips to spend time with elders or orphans, as well as organizing outdoor activities.

Jean Michelle has been here for a few years. At first he was spirited with the aspiration to become a brother within the diocese. Now, he is unsure of his allegiance to this country, or faith in his country of origin. He has watched his family disperse around Congo and abroad. He has been alive just long enough to know the circulation of conflict that cursed his region.

“Je n’ai pas l’espoir en Afrique.” he says.

I organize a return, to meet with the director of the Ahadi institute for refugees.