Rewrite the Future - News

African student overcomes 17 years in refugee limbo

By CARL TRIPLEHORN, Advisor for Protection and Education in Emergencies with Save the Children

"His phone call that day solidified all the reasons it is important for children to continue attending school in the harshest of conditions. Having been displaced for as long as Habtish was, and in as many places as he was, he has nothing to show for it except his education."


People displaced by the conflict in Darfur - Caroline Irby. Ten years ago I left my job working at a refugee camp in eastern Africa. It was a bittersweet moment, leaving behind a group of friends and colleagues with whom I had shared so much over three and a half years.

Would I ever see or hear from any of these people again?
To my surprise over the holidays this year, I received a phone call one Saturday from one of those friends, Habtish.
His excitement could hardly be contained when I picked up the phone. Shouting, he gleefully told me his big news -- for the first time in 17 years, he is no longer considered a refugee. He is living in Winnipeg, Canada, working as a car attendant and trying to get used to the cold -- no easy feat when you have grown up in Ethiopia and Kenya.

It is a difficult adjustment, but one he is glad to face. Having spent nearly two decades trapped in the uncertain and often violent life of a refugee, he is thrilled to finally be moving forward.

Habtish's long journey as a refugee began in 1991 when he fled to Kenya, along with thousands of other college students from Ethiopia, as their home country was being ripped apart by war.

At first, living among the rebels produced an almost euphoric sensation of adventure and risk.
Habtish's exhilaration, however, was short-lived. The reality of war quickly came into focus, with night-shattering screams and bullets flying through refugee tents.

After three years, the first camp where Habtish was living closed and he was moved to the camp where I was working. With his courageous attitude and unfailing commitment to complete his education, I sensed in him a kinship of sorts and we easily became friends. We would sit for hours discussing the world's problems and how to solve them.

When my time was finished at the camp, I felt a lump in my throat at the thought of leaving such a close friend behind. In conflict situations, leaving behind a job often means leaving friends and co-workers to face the great unknown. There is no way of knowing what turns the future will take for them. In many cases they do not end well.

To my, and his, great fortune, at the last moment I was able to secure Habtish a scholarship at a good school in Nairobi. I only wish I could have done the same for all the young people at the camp.

The last time I saw Habtish he was with his girlfriend, a woman with whom he had lived throughout his refugee experience. Soon after, however, his girlfriend left with another man to come to the U.S. Habtish finished his degree and without further options went back to living in a refugee camp for a few years until his final resettlement to Canada.

I told Habtish that now I work at Save the Children on a program called Rewrite the Future, where I can help millions of children in conflict areas go to school. His phone call that day solidified all the reasons it is important for children to continue attending school in the harshest of conditions. Having been displaced for as long as Habtish was, and in as many places as he was, he has nothing to show for it except his education. Habtish will have to update his degree in Canada, which he is already planning to do in addition to further schooling.

Next Christmas I will have the great privilege of re-gifting. I am planning on giving back to him an Ethiopian cross he and his girlfriend gave me years ago. This will be the sole possession he will have from when he walked across the border 17 years ago.

In a world of material things, friendships are the most important things. It is great to be back in contact with him but even more rewarding is knowing that he is safe, has a wife he loves, a roof over his head and, especially, a bright future.