My last shift was spent housing six men. Three from Nigeria and three from Iraq. Housing new arrivals became one of my favorite and hardest things to do. The process is challenging because I am supposed to find a person or group of people a place to live in camp.
In this specific situation someone on the shift before me found housing but we had to confirm that it was still okay. We walked to the level, opened the room and found most of the men sleeping. This was common so late in the afternoon but it made my job harder. One of the men was awake and we asked him if there is still room to squeeze in a few more people. The men that woke up, spoke to one another in Arabic, stood up to come talk to us and agreed to let three new men come stay. He tells me sure, but they have to sleep on the floor. These rooms are already filled with more than 20 people but it has to hold more. Unfortunately, it means sleeping on the floor because we do not have any more beds to give.
They said yes, so our next task was to go get the three Iraqi men in the new arrival tent. This tent is very hard for some people to walk in. They just recently filled it with bunk beds, but before everyone slept on little mats and blankets. The room was filled with men, women and children. I got to play with a little baby and then had to find the three men. We checked their documents, told them to gather all of their belongings and took them to get registered. One of them was an older man. The other were very nice and could speak some English.
As we walked up the big concrete hill they were being introduced to camp. They saw all the concrete and barbed wire fences. I couldn’t imagine what their thoughts were.
Unfortunately, we got to their house and the men were not happy. The older gentlemen couldn’t sleep on the floor. In their culture, it was rude for him to and the room wouldn’t allow it. After speaking with different men and translating for about ten minutes we got nowhere. A friend of mine was then able to translate more for us and I took a step back to evaluate the situation.
Ten men, who have left everything, are now yelling back and forth in Arabic trying to resolve an issue that shouldn’t be theirs to resolve. I felt useless. I wished I knew Arabic. I wished I had a bed and more space for them to sleep. I wished that this old man wasn’t going to have to walk up and down that big hill every day. So I prayed for patience and understanding while I talked with these men.
Fortunately, the men resolved the issue on their own. Another room said they would take the older man. After a few other tasks we opened the door to where the old man would be sleeping. My eyes opened wide to what I saw. The men of the room were definitely much younger. They had music playing very loud and even less space than the last room. One guy was lifting weights which was actually water bottles filled with rocks. But they welcomed the older man so well. I pray that he is happy there in that crazy room. I pray they continue to show him kindness and he doesn’t feel alone.
After we finished housing them we housed the Nigerian men. It is about the same process except they are not sleeping in camp. Their home was in a tent outside of camp that is shared with 200 other men. Fortunately this process was easier. They were welcomed in and had beds to sleep on.
I got to speak with one of them as we handed out food. He told me about his life in Nigeria. He is a Christian and he is fleeing from his family back home. He wasn’t safe and was being targeted by his own father. His father was a witch doctor and has killed many people including his own son. My friend didn’t want to be a part of that life so he had to leave.
He told me about his experience on the boat. He told me about the months he spent getting to the island. First he made it to Iran, then he waited in Turkey for a few months.
“The water was so dark and it was scary. you couldn’t see anything”.
I asked him “…do you forgive your father after all that he has done. After all the people he has killed. Even after he killed your own brother?”
He looked at me and said “of course I do, the bible tells me to forgive him.”
We talked for the thirty more minutes and I couldn’t believe all that he’d been through. He showed me love and he taught me about forgiveness.
I said before that housing is one of my favorite things to do. I have enjoyed being the first person they know. Greeting them, helping them and then being able to see them in camp. The hard part is knowing they have faced so many problems just to get to camp. Most of them have had so many trials and difficulties. The process doesn’t start with me. They already left their country and their lives back home. Some have walked across countries and spent time in prisons just to get persecuted in camp. All of them have paid to get on a tiny, crowded raft. All of them have different experiences and stories.
I pray now that they have hope. Hope for a future and for the life they deserve. Please pray with me, for all the men women and children who continue to flee their countries. Pray that each of them find peace and healing.
