Interview with Yilma Tafere Tasew, a refugee from Ethiopiaby Andrea Useem
WAJIBU: How and why did you leave Ethiopia? YILMA: I left Ethiopia on June 1, 1991. I left for fear of persecution, and because of the violation of human rights in general. When I was young I was a sympathiser of the opposition political party which was called EPRP (Ethiopia Peoples Revolutionary Party). Because of that I was arrested during the time of Mengistu [Haile Mariam] for one and a half years. After the time the new government people came to control Ethiopia [in May 1991], I realized there was not any difference between Mengistu and the Meles [Zenawi] government. For me they are two sides of the same coin. What I fear would happen has happened, is happening, with the existing government in Ethiopia. Just as Mengistu was using the name of communism, these people are using the name of democracy. Mengistu was killing people on the streets, legally. These people [in power today] are killing and arresting people illegally, using "democracy" as a screen. When I decided to move from my work place to Kenya, I didn't mean to stay in Kenya. I was teaching in the southern part of Ethiopia. It was a rural place. I'm not from that area, I was just there for survival, teaching. There was a lot of gunfire, during the evening, during the day. I decided to move from that place to my parents' place. But I could not go because there was no transport. The only way to move was towards the border with Kenya. I decided to go to Moyale to see the situation. When I came to Moyale, I decided to cross the border. Within a few days, we were told to move to a transitional camp, called Oda, 12 kilometers from the border. There were more than 20,000 of us who fled during that time. What was the most difficult thing about life in the camp? Being a refugee is a very difficult experience for any human being. Being a refugee, especially in a refugee camp, is worse than being a prisoner. A prisoner might know how long he is going to be in jail. A prisoner has been to court, he has testified in his case, he has been given some kind of judgement. But if you are a refugee, you don't know what will happen to you. Tomorrow is not in your hands. Tomorrow is in somebody else's hands. It's in the hands of the politicians, or the government people back home, or in the hands of the agencies, like UNHCR. You just live for today, and even today is not satisfactory because of the food you eat, where you sleep, the sicknesses and the hardships you face, the weather. Everything is depressing you, killing you, mentally, physically, morally. A refugee camp is in the middle of nowhere. It's far from lines of communication, far from civilization, far from information. You can't go out as you like, you are not able to have a job. There are some people in this situation who survive, who overcome the problems. These are very few. The majority feel helpless, depressed, and some people have gone out of their minds. Where the camp is located, it is very hot. If you stay there very long, you will lose your memory, your mental ability, you will drain out. The sweet part of your nature will go away, only the bitter part will remain. Oda was a transitional camp. We stayed there for two or three months, then at Walda camp for more than two years. Walda was 125 kilometers from the border, next to Marsabit. Comparing the camps, Walda was far worse. You didn't feel secure because there are many Ethiopian refugees who were found dead in the bush, refugees who were killed by unknown armed men. I was happy when Walda camp closed in March 1993. And then we moved to Kakuma. Kakuma seems a little bit better organised compared to Walda, because there were organisations concerned about refugee life. They made it more comfortable. We came to think that that was our place for the rest of our life. I was in Kakuma from March 1993 until May 1997. How did you survive these difficulties in the camps? When life is full of hardship, the strongest people will survive. The weak will die. And therefore, if you decide, "I should live, I shouldn't die, I don't want to make my enemies happy by dying or being weak," you will force your brain to work very hard to produce something which makes you busy, which contributes something for yourself and for others. In September 1993 I proposed to the various [aid] agencies [working in Kakuma] the production of a newspaper in the camp. One of the NGOs, that was the Lutheran World Federation, accepted my proposal, and they gave technical, moral and material support to realise it. And I have stayed with the newspaper until I left Kakuma. The aim of the newspaper at that time, and until now, is to give a voice to the refugees, and to inform the outside world how the refugee camps are like, what the needs, interests and feelings of refugees are, and to show them there are people in the camp who have good brains, who can do wonders if given an opportunity. This newspaper [called KANEBU, for "Kakuma News Bulletin"] has contributed to some extent to give an awareness of the refugee life. It has published the work of fellow refugees and also my own work. Through my writings, I have cried with my pain, I have shown my hunger, I have shown my thirst, my discomfort, my homesickness. I have shown also my views and ideas to the world, to say "I am a human being who is part of the world." You and many other refugees have left the camps to come and live in Nairobi. How is life here for refugees? Most of the Ethiopian refugees are urban refugees, they come from urban areas, and most of them are educated. These people hate the environment in the camps; they get fed up and decide to come to the city. Refugee life in Nairobi is very difficult. Many refugees don't have work permits or legal status. Some of them don't have any work, they don't have anything for survival. They are trying their best to live, at least everyday, without knowing what is going to happen tomorrow. There are some people who are successfully trying to live their best, through jua kali, supporting themselves, but not the majority. What do you hope for the future for yourself and other refugees? The refugee problem in Africa can only be solved if we Africans (by this I mean political leaders and everybody else) try to find true solutions to our conflicts. That means if we stop solving every conflict with war, with arms, and we start using, instead of arms, our brains, and if we sit together to solve our differences in a round table discussion. If we do that, then the one who is in power, when he loses it, instead of running to the bush to fight, can choose to solve the problem through discussion. We must learn to share power, we must learn the true sense of the word "democracy." Any human being with a normal mind would not like to be a refugee while he can work, while he can help himself, his family, his parents and his country. People become refugees because of situations, political situations. I wish the countries, the governments which produce refugees, would consider this. If they make their people more comfortable, if they stand for their own people, then truly, honestly, I think the refugee problem can be solved. Given the existing situation on our continent, I cannot predict any solution in the near future. But sometimes history can bring some kind of happiness that is like a miracle. Maybe God, whoever he is, will change these people's minds, and this world situation, and everyone will go back home.
Jua kali literally means hot sun. It refers to small jobs, often done outside, which people engage in for lack of formal employment.
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