A Refugee Story

Today one of my undergraduate students came to my office, and wanted to tell me a little about himself.  In class I had mentioned visiting a refugee camp in Nablus, and said he thought I might understand his story.

He is originally from the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC).  In 2007, he and his wife fled after she was “violated” by soldiers of one faction of the fighting that was going on at that time.  He explained to me that if it was known in the community that a woman had been raped by soldiers, her husband’s choice was either to divorce her or to leave with her.  He and his wife first went to the Union of South Africa, but there experienced what he would only describe as “xenophobia.”  In 2009 they came to Zimbabwe, and settled into a refugee camp in the southern part of Zimbabwe.  This camp, which currently houses about 1000 families from a variety of other African Countries, is run under the auspices of the United Nations.  He described a situation in which 40- 50 families might be housed in one large building without any privacy to speak of.  In the past, a full month’s food rations per adult were: 10 kg maize, 2 kg rice, 2 kg beans, 1 kg sugar, and .75 liter cooking oil.  In January, the rations were cut in half, and as of February, there is no money for rations, according to this student.

The student had been in medical school in DRC before he and his wife fled.  He found a benefactor while in the refugee camp in Zimbabwe who is paying his tuition, room and board at Africa University. (God is with him—what is the likelihood of that!)  He struggles to find enough money to make copies needed for classes.  He has looked unsuccessfully for part-time work in Mutare.  He is separated from his wife (now pregnant) and 2-year-old child.  They are 3-4 hours away by motor vehicle, but by bus the round trip would cost close to $50, which is prohibitive for him.  He sees them only when he can find a ride for the university’s extended holidays. The student is in an undergraduate program which will lead to a job running a small reproductive health clinic somewhere in Zimbabwe, and he plans to settle here.  He says his father was killed in the conflict in DRC, and he has no idea where his mother, brother and other relatives are, if they survived.  He is very serious about his studies, and does well in my class.  He hides his refugee status from the other students, even the others from DRC, because there is stigma attached to that which he fears would be harmful to his chances of success.