The following story is about a refugee family that fell through the cracks of a broken system and the group of Seattle neighbors who came alongside them to help keep them from becoming homeless. Despite the fact that the family has chosen to remain anonymous (their names have been changed), that the man who originally helped them also has chosen to remain anonymous (his name has also been changed), and that the Seattle Mayor’s Office did not respond to our inquiries, this is a story that needs to be told to raise awareness of the difficulties that countless refugees face upon their arrival to the United States.
On Thursday, March 18, an Eritrean refugee family that had been in Seattle for only six months found themselves in the unlikeliest of places.
At 3:30 p.m. that afternoon Habtom and Hannah Sami, along with their two young children, were brought to the Office of Seattle Mayor Mike McGinn by a man named Richard who was desperately trying to help keep them off the streets. They met Richard downtown the previous evening when they were only hours from having to spend a chilly March night out on the street.
Richard had made a few phone calls looking for shelter, but eventually decided to load the family into his car and drove them up Aurora Avenue to the Days Inn just north of 90th Street. The next morning he returned to get the family, and together they spent seven fruitless hours calling emergency shelters, and visiting housing organizations and area refugee assistance non-profits.
When they entered the Mayor’s Office, an exasperated Richard approached the receptionist and explained, “This family is homeless; they are refugees. They have no place to sleep tonight. I understand that Mayor McGinn didn’t create this problem, but he can do something to solve it. I don’t think this is the kind of city that puts 18-month old babies out on the street.”
As the Sami’s 6 year-old son and almost 2 year-old daughter ran around the lobby among a group of sharply dressed professionals who were waiting for a meeting, the receptionist disappeared out of sight and carried the message to the back of the office.
Noticing the group’s curiosity, Richard informed them, “This family is here because they have no place to sleep tonight.”
“But aren’t there shelters?” a member of the group responded.
“They’re full,” he answered.
“Aren’t there places to help?” they asked.
“We’ve been looking all day.”
Moments later the receptionist returned to report to Richard that, “People are working on it.”
FROM ERITREA TO ETHIOPIA TO AMERICA
The Sami family arrived in Seattle from east Africa on September 8, 2009, with little more than the clothes on their backs and a few treasured possessions. Like countless immigrants before them, the Sami’s left a place where, according to Habtom, there was, “No peace, no jobs, no money,” in search of a better life.
Five years earlier, they fled the oppressive government of their native Eritrea and crossed into the bordering country of Ethiopia, where they joined a refugee camp of tens of thousands of Eritreans who were also seeking political asylum. Their son, then just one year-old, grew up in the camp; their daughter was born there.
Life in Ethiopia was better than Eritrea, where Habtom was a soldier in the army – a situation he simply describes as “not a life,” in which he was only granted ten days a year to be with his family, two of which were taken up by travel. Though life in Ethiopia meant more time together as a family, it also meant living in close proximity with other displaced people, a population that only increased, as almost two thousand new refugees would stream into the camp each month. And with little food and no work, life in Ethiopia provided no future. It was not their desired final destination; their sights were set on the United States, where their children would grow up with peace.
With the sponsorship of an international relief agency, the Sami’s dream of resettlement in the United States was achieved in the fall of 2009. Upon arrival, the agency connected them to food, clothing, and shelter resources. They took English language classes, and, when they discovered they were expecting their third child, Hannah received medical care.
Life was stable for a while – until mid-February when they were unable to remain in the provided shelter. They would continue to receive a monthly payment of $650, but they wouldn’t be able to stretch that to cover food, rent, and other needs. So they turned to their loose network of distant family members and acquaintances from the Ethiopian refugee camp that had also resettled in Seattle. They bounced around from house to house, until they ended up at the already crowded Beacon Hill home of a distant relative where the four of them shared one bedroom and one bed.
But by mid-March, they had enough. Hannah was over three months pregnant and they were increasingly uncomfortable about their living situation. So they left. On the cool morning of March 17, a stoic Habtom, a pregnant Hannah, and their two resilient young children made their way downtown. They spent most of their day staying out of the cold and distracting the children at the Seattle Central Library.
But as evening approached and Habtom’s anxiety increased, they left the library and approached a passerby for help.
They asked the right person.
THE GOOD SAMARITAN
On Thursday, March 18, the morning after Richard had brought the family to the Days Inn, Richard began to make some phone calls. At 8:30 a.m. he called one-night emergency shelters – they were already full. So he picked up the Sami’s and together they called and visited various organizations in search of help.
The staff at the Horn of Africa, a Seattle service organization that provides resources for East African refugees and immigrants, told Richard that refugees like the Sami’s come in numerous times a week looking for emergency housing. They made phone calls on behalf of the Sami’s for almost three hours, but came up with nothing.
At Refugee Woman’s Alliance (ReWA), where Richard had learned the Sami’s had a caseworker, the Sami’s conversed in Tigrinya with refugees who were there for classes and a community meal while Richard persistently talked with various levels of staff, including their caseworker. All of them reported the same thing, “There’s nothing.”
Frustrated by the lack of progress, Richard tapped into his lawyer and lobbyist roots – and decided to get the government involved. He called Seattle City Council President Richard Conlin’s office, and when the secretary answered, he explained to her the situation of this homeless refugee family. She took his phone number and started making calls.
In the meantime, Richard attempted to communicate the dire situation to the Sami’s, that absolutely nothing was available. “I would like to take you to the politicians,” he suggested.
The Sami’s consented. As they were en route to City Hall, Conlin’s secretary returned his call and told him, “I’m horrified, but what you said is true: there is nothing for these people. The police motel voucher program is middle of the month, and even they’re already out of vouchers.”
At 3:30 p.m., after they parked the car in Pioneer Square, Richard and the Sami’s approached City Hall. Moved by Conlin’s secretary’s compassion, he says, Richard changed his mind about their destination as they entered the building: “I figured that the executive branch is where they make things happen – McGinn’s office was the place to take them.”
Refugees: From East Africa to City Hall to Aurora Ave., Part 2
