Every workable definition of the word Refuge contains the same footprint: protection from danger, asylum, sanctuary, security and shelter. The root word also spawns Refugee…flesh on the bones. The human needs.
People suffering from persecution to the point where they know or feel their ultimate safety and that of their families is at risk have always been with us.
If you are sitting comfortably now, reading this, or just walking by and glancing, think, just think what it must be like to be in fear of your life. Imagine what it must be like living under the shadow of torture, incarceration and annihilation. Imagine you have seen a neighbour or family member taken away or slaughtered before your eyes. Imagine there is nothing you can do about it. What must it be like to have no other option but to flee? Imagine, just for one moment, that you are powerless and at the whim of circumstances and people who consider you a nuisance at best.
You would, if you could, flee.
You would, as one Iraqi woman I know did, flee as fast as you could. You would grab your only child and run into the dark, away from the soldiers who had taken your husband away, who on leaving had said, ‘We’ll be back for you.’
You would take that chance and run the gauntlet of human traffickers, uncertain transport, fear and possible death. You would rush into the unknown, for that is preferable to the certainty of death, isn’t it?
You would seek refuge. This woman found it here, when she bobbed up, like a cork, in Dover. Her son, now a free young man, remembers his first taste of refuge, “They gave us sandwiches and stuff. It was nice. And I washed my face and hands. I was all black.” These two, adrift and helpless had the usual hoops to jump through, but are now free to live a life unencumbered by unbearable fear.
They live here.
We live here. We have our refuge. We think it is god given. It is not. We fought hard for hundreds of years for fair play. It cost lives.
Holding out your hand to somebody is a simple act. There will be a cost, be it your time, cash or just that hand.
Refuge is a huge word. My immediate experience has been working with and writing about Refugees who come to this country desperate for a life. Any life other than the one they fled. However, there are other voices that cry out from the dark to us.
They are the homeless, the disenfranchised, the imprisoned and the broken. And they are everywhere in our communities. Look, see and act. Hold out a hand in any way you can. Saying, with a shrug, as so many do, ‘What can I do?’ is just not good enough.
Simple acts, like the butterfly wings of Chaos Theory, can have profound consequences. Act.
Anthony Robinson
Cambridge, 2009
Anthony Robinson is the author and co-author of the Refugee Diaries series: Gervelie’s Journey, Mohammed’s Journey, Hamzat’s Journey, and Meltem’s Journey, published by Frances Lincoln Children’s Books
