BUILD HOPE, NOT WALLS
BY MARYAM ZAR
As the month of March winds through the inevitable annual ritual of acknowledging women’s history and the struggles they still face in our modern world, I am reminded of the women I met last year in Moria, Greece, after working with them over a two-week period in Mytilene on an empowerment workshop run by the Azadi Project.
The people I met at Moria have since been displaced. Many have been moved to Athens, some have been able to go as far as Zagreb, Brussels, Berlin, and Paris. Most have been displaced from the original Moria compound to “Moria 2.0” at Kara Tepe—a loose collection of tents and tarps with no heat, running water, electricity, or toilets. Still, people persist and many still hold tight to some semblance of dignity.
Last week, a family finally bound for Germany was stopped and turned back due to the woman’s late-term pregnancy. She came back to her tent in Kara Tepe and set herself on fire. She survived, the tent did not. The fire was deemed arson, and she was criminally charged. This is a tragedy of layers upon layers of misfortune. We see the tip of the iceberg peaking out in the form of an isolated fire in a tent. The reality is, the trauma and mental anguish of prolonged refuge take their toll on the human spirit, and the layers of abuse and injustice along the way leave an inescapable imprint.
Not long ago, I visited a migrant holding center in the outskirts of Tijuana. Families there were hunkered into tents in a large room inside a church that had spontaneously repurposed itself into a refugee camp. The center loosely housed 120 families, most of whom had small children that were conspicuously missing any structure or educational resources. In the great hall of the church, children ran about to burn pent-up energy while adolescent boys moped around in anxious boredom. Teen-aged girls congregated near the make-shift common sink, washing clothes and hanging them on the perimeter walls made of corrugated metal, to dry. Women seemed exhausted—emotionally and physically. The women I saw inside with small children seemed removed from the present, staring out ahead in what seemed like quiet desperation.
On the cusp of the 21st century and a re-envisioning of the world we live in, we can do better on the resettlement front. Walls are not the answer to people seeking refuge—hope is.
The effects of trauma on refugees are long-lasting and often immeasurable. Many refugees have witnessed personal or community violence, the loss of family members as well as an abandonment of the homeland which is often an anchor of their identity. Women in refuge are in a perpetual state of fighting for survival, constantly looking for ways to meet the basic needs of their families. When those conditions are met, there is hope, when those resources are depleted—as they often are in camp settings—depression and despondence can set in. The internalized trauma and the constant strain of refuge can result in acute anxiety, depression, sleeplessness, and even the onset of seizures or muteness over time.
In this context, women are among the most vulnerable populations in flight, and more adversely affected by the circumstances. According to the UNHCR, women and girls make up 50 percent of any refugee population. Those who are unaccompanied, pregnant, heads of household, disabled, or elderly are especially vulnerable. Add to that the fact that the threat of physical violence always looms large over women even as they continue to suffer poor health and hygiene conditions that mimic the conflict areas they’ve escaped.
The net result leaves most observers alarmed about the mental health of millions of people who remain stateless around the globe, and whose destiny will ultimately impact the shape of humanity. The prolonged refugee process that has become characteristic of today’s refugee experience increases the risk of long-term mental health disorders for children as well, and this becomes incrementally more urgent with each passing year.
Today, I want us all to recognize that this trauma is playing out all over the globe, in the millions.
On the cusp of the 21st century and a re-envisioning of the world we live in, we can do better on the resettlement front. We can welcome people and bring them into our economies to help strengthen our collective future. We can make better policies to end conflict and stem the incessant eruption of proxy wars that displace populations and threaten the well-being of generations of people.
Refugees are looking for a life of dignity and we can make create opportunities that can help them thrive as people, not languish as intruders. Women can be a force for advancement. Instead of allowing them to devolve in despondence, let’s embrace their spirit and help them lift their families to a better place. Walls are not the answer to people seeking refuge—hope is.
____________________
Maryam Zar is a Pacific Council member, founder of Womenfound, and commissioner on the Los Angeles Commission on the Status of Women.
This article was originally published by Kathimerini.
The views and opinions expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Pacific Council.
