Somali Bantus in our midst
By Pius Kamau, Special to the Denver Post
Article Published: Monday, June 16, 2003
The complaint that many have about America is
that it could do so much more to relieve suffering in Africa and elsewhere in
the world, and that its great wealth is often used to destroy rather than to
build. But from time to time, I'm pleasantly surprised when its compassionate
hand reaches across the oceans to rescue a small tribe, or an island of people
in an ocean of hatred and abuse.
Recently, the Somali Bantu have come under the benevolent gaze of our
immigration authorities, who are not known for their compassionate alacrity.
My tribe, the Kikuyu, belongs to the large Bantu group; so are the Zulus of South Africa. Bantus occupy a swathe of land encompassing eastern, central and southern Africa. The Zulus and Xhosa of South Africa, the Kikuyus, the Baganda and others of East Africa all belong to this group. Swahili is a Bantu language; more than 50 million people speak it.
Recently, a small group of Somali Bantus came to Colorado from refugee camps in northern Kenya. They are the lucky ones; many were left behind, often victimized by the same Arab Somalis who've mistreated them since the 19th century, and who continually infiltrate the refugee camps. Each small group of people that comes to us has its own unique history. To help them, we must understand something of their history.
Although as dark as the majority Somali, the Somali Bantu were called jarer, because of their strong curly hair. It's also a term of denigration. Historically, some Bantus were displaced by Arabs who moved into Somalia from the north. Others were captured and enslaved from further south along the eastern coast of Africa. These people were called habash, or servants, by the Arabized Somalis, who regard themselves as superior people.
Over time there has been some intermarriage, but the Negroid-Arab children are not accepted. It's something one sees all across the Arab world: The dark, Negroid people are never accepted as equal to the Semitic-featured Arabs.
Slavery was declared illegal in the West in the 19th century, but in Somalia and the rest of the Arab world, slavery of Africans has continued unabated. It's a world in which history rests on a pillow of oblivion. As to the widely reported slavery in the Sudan, the world community has done precious little beyond plucking a small group of boys from the dry and dusty camps of northern Kenya.
I've talked to friends whose forefathers were slaves and many have no concept that the black world is still brutalized by slavery. Many have no idea of what's happening beyond America's shores. So few know anything about the lost boys of the Sudan, the Bantus of Somalia, the slavery of girls and boys in West Africa. Few know that the system that killed millions of their forefathers in the Middle Passage is still alive and well.
But can we blame them? I know that the traumatized mind often helps its owner by either obsessing about yesterday's trials and tribulations or by forgetting. Black America has drawn a veil across its memory by steeping itself in America's grandeur and comfort.
Still, this is a great opportunity to reach out to these Bantus, people who've been hurt so deeply and so badly for so long. For my black American brothers, I can only say that there's much work still to be done here at home, as well as with refugees from African killing fields.
I'm grateful to the U.S. government for allowing this small band of Bantu people to escape misery and tragic lives. I've no doubt their presence among us can only make the tapestry of America even more magnificent. I hope that many more will be allowed to escape their enslaved lives and immigrate to someplace in America.
Perhaps their presence will remind us that there are millions more elsewhere, and that policies ofour government needs to work toward improving the condition of their lives. May this also remind every American of his good fortune to live in the freest nation on Earth.
Pius Kamau of Aurora is a cardiovascular, thoracic and general-surgery physician. He was born and raised in Kenya and immigrated to the United States in 1971.
Source: Denver Post, June 12, 03
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Refugees for 12 years, Somali
Bantu settling in Tucson, Phoenix
May 23, 2003
It was easy to tell the Somali Bantu families
apart from the other passengers yesterday at crowded Sky Harbor International
Airport.
They were the ones with the tired but happy faces, with the bold letters USRP on
their sweat shirts and head scarves provided by the United States Refugee
Program.
The two families, 15 people in all including six children and two babies, are
among the first Somali Bantus to arrive in the United States after spending more
than a decade languishing in refugee camps in Kenya. They left Nairobi, the
Kenyan capital, Tuesday.
Another group of Somali refugees has arrived in Tucson, and an additional 40 are
still waiting for federal approval for the day they can begin a new life in a
different country.
The Tucson office of the International Rescue Committee welcomed six Somali
Bantu refugees this week, but the others won't arrive "until the government
decides they can," said Fred Klein, director of the Lutheran Social Ministries
of the Southwest's refugee program in Tucson.
The new arrivals will be provided with living quarters and assistance in
acclimating to Tucson, said Miro Marinovich, the IRC's local coordinator. They
also are from a refugee camp in Kenya.
"We always have the same approach," he said. "For every family, we assign a
caseworker who either speaks their language or is familiar with their culture.
We have someone who provides basic mentoring. We provide a furnished apartment
and sign them up for medical coverage, enroll their children in schools, sign
them up for food stamps and orient them with Tucson."
Until now, these Somali Bantus were a people without a home or a country, and
their arrival in the United States marks the end of a long journey for some of
the world's most persecuted and oppressed people.
"We are very excited. We are very happy," said the only man among the Phoenix
group.
The refugees' arrivals represent the start of a new chapter of adaptation to a
world far different and more complicated than their rural existence in Africa,
U.S. resettlement officials say.
"This group represents the truest of refugees in that they literally had no
place to go, and that is why this country has so graciously accepted them," said
Craig Thoresen in describing the Phoenix arrivals.
Thoresen is the refugee resettlement director of the Lutheran Social Ministry of
the Southwest. The agency, along with Catholic Social Services, will help
resettle the two families who arrived Thursday.
Thoresen was among the 20 people who welcomed the Somali Bantu with flowers and
balloons.
"They literally have been languishing for more then 12 years in refugee camps,
and before that they were victimized in their adopted Somalia, and so this ends
a long journey and struggle for them," Thoresen said.
The welcoming committee included representatives from several groups that will
help the Bantu adjust to life in Phoenix, including the Islamic Cultural Center
of Tempe, the First Congregational Church of Tempe and the Somali Association of
Arizona.
Cultural, linguistic and physical differences distinguish the Somali Bantu from
other Somali refugees who have been resettled in the United States, according to
researchers Daniel Van Lehman and Omar Eno.
"The culture of subjugation under which most of them lived may present special
challenges to their American resettlement case workers," the researchers wrote.
Coming to the valley marks the chance for these two families to end oppression
that has lasted for centuries.
The Bantu trace their roots to Mozambique and Tanzania. During the 18th and 19th
centuries, their ancestors were enslaved by Arab sultans and taken to Somalia,
where for the past 200 years they have been treated as second-class citizens,
denied education and allowed to work only as farmers and laborers, refugee
resettlement officials said.
In Somalia, they lived mostly along the Juba River "and scratched out a very
meager existence in agriculture," Thoresen said. "They lived in huts with no
electricity and no running water."
After the overthrow of dictator Mohamed Siad Barre, Somalia plunged into a
bloody civil war that divided the country into feuding ethnic clans and
fiefdoms. The Bantu were attacked, raped and murdered. Thousands of Somali
Bantu, along with other Somalis, fled on foot, mostly to neighboring Kenya. From
1991 to 2002 the Somali Bantu lived in the Dadaab refugee camp, along with other
Somali refugees who had been the oppressors of the Bantu, while the United
Nations tried to find a home for them.
After the United States agreed to accept them, the Bantu were moved 900 miles
from Dadaab to the Kakuma refugee camp, where they lived in wood huts, slept on
straw mats and survived on meager rations.
Helping the Somali Bantu adapt to American life will be one of the biggest
challenges for American resettlement groups, said Joseph Roberson, immigration
and refugee program director for Church World Services in New York. The
organization is one of nine national agencies that will be responsible for
resettling the Somali Bantu. Many Somali Bantu children have known no other life
outside of refugee camps, resettlement officials also point out.
"It's a group that in no way has been exposed to a Western way of life with
modern conveniences," Roberson said.
On their flight over, several of the Somali Bantu children got sick and vomited.
"We've never flown on an airplane before, so it was kind of overwhelming," the
Somali Bantu man said.
In 1999, the United States agreed to accept 12,000 Somali Bantu after efforts by
the United Nations to resettle them in Mozambique and other parts of Africa
failed. The process was delayed by the
Sept. 11 terrorist attacks and subsequent concerns over homeland security, which
slowed the resettlement of refugees in the United States to a trickle, according
to refugee resettlement officials.
The 12,000 Somali Bantu will be resettled in 50 cities during the next two
years.
So far, U.S. immigration officials have approved only 1,200 to come to the
United States, and the first 74 Somali Bantu began arriving this week, according
to resettlement officials. Some Somali Bantu families are also being resettled
in Denver and several other cities.
Arizona is expected to receive between 600 and 800 Somali Bantu during the next
two years, said Charles Shipman, the state's refugee resettlement coordinator.
From the airport, the Somali Bantu were taken to their new homes in apartments
rented for them by resettlement groups. A meal prepared by resettlement workers
also awaited them.
During the next several months, refugee resettlement workers will assist the
Bantu with food, clothing, school enrollment, jobs and English lessons.
Citizen writer C.T. Revere contributed to this article.
Phones, flush toilets will be new to most refugees
In the United States, the Somali Bantu face a culture that will be as foreign to
them as any on Earth, refugee resettlement officials say.
These are some of the challenges they may face:
Housing - The Bantu have had almost no exposure to Western housing. Electricity,
flush toilets, telephones, kitchen and laundry appliances are foreign to most
Bantu refugees.
Education - Education was out of reach for most Bantu children, who often worked
on their parents' farms instead of attending school. Formal education began to
be available to them only in refugee camps. Most Bantu adults are illiterate and
will need to participate in an intensive literacy campaign.
Work - The Bantu possess few job skills outside of farming but are known as
resourceful and hard workers who were willing to accept any job in Somali and
Kenya.
Language - The Somali Bantu from the Juba River Valley primarily speak Af Maay,
one of two variations of the Somali language. Others speak tribal languages from
Tanzania or Swahili. In refugee camps, some Somali Bantu have been learning
English.
Women - Somali Bantu women have many special needs. Many have experienced female
circumcision, rape, a lack of education, high birth rates, and single-parent
status.
Life of hardship for
descendants of slaves
The Somali Bantu are the descendants of slaves
taken from Tanzania and northern Mozambique in the late 19th century to the
southern Somali coast, where they remain a persecuted minority.
Thousands have spent the past decade languishing in camps along the dangerous
Somali-Kenyan border, unable to find a haven. Kenya, unable to meet the needs of
its own people, much less the hundreds of thousands of refugees from other
African nations, has been unable to provide permanent refuge.
In 2000, the United States agreed to consider resettlement for members of the
Bantu group, but the war on terror and national security concerns delayed their
arrival.
Yesterday marked the arrival of the first of some 12,000 Somali Bantu refugees
under consideration for relocation to the United States, including Arizona.
Source: U.S. Department of State, May 23, 0