We Are Displaced

“This was not our Islam. These were religious fundamentalists who claimed they wanted to return to an old way of living, which was ironic considering that they used technology—the radio—to spread this very message. They attacked our daily way of life in the name of Islam. They told people what they could wear, what they could listen to, what they could watch. And most of all, they tried to take away the rights of women.”

In this quotation Yousafzai explains that the Taliban represented a very different ideology and interpretation of Islam than what she was raised to follow. She describes the degree of control that the Taliban wanted to exercise over every day civilian life in the Swat Valley, Pakistan, including people’s clothes, hairstyles, media consumption, and education.

“By then, I had begun to write a blog for BBC Urdu that later helped the world beyond our country learn our story and the truth of the attack on girls’ education in Pakistan. I had written about how the walk to school, once a brief pleasure, had become a fear-filled sprint. And how at night, my family and I would sometimes huddle on the floor, as far away from the windows as possible, as we heard bombs exploding and the rat-a-tat-tat of machine guns in the hills surrounding Mingora. I missed the days when we had picnics in the same countryside.”

Yousafzai’s continued references to the peaceful and stable time of her early childhood make her story more relatable to the average reader. In this quotation she also paints a picture of how her family’s quality of life and sense of safety severely declined as the Taliban’s presence in the Swat Valley grew.

“When the day came that our father was forced to close our girls’ school, he mourned not only for his students but also for the fifty thousand girls in our region who had lost their right to go to school. Hundreds of schools had to close. […] A ban on girls’ schools meant a ban on my dreams, a limit on my future. If I couldn’t get my education, what kind of future did I have?”

Yousafzai recalls how her family was deeply upset about the Taliban’s closure of girls’ schools in the Swat Valley, and how the issue was deeply personal for her. Her father’s girls’ school, which she attended, was one of the hundreds which were closed, leaving Yousafzai to wonder what her life would be like if she could not complete her education.

“People were fleeing on motorbikes and trucks, in rickshaws and mule carts, all with the same wide-eyed look of shock. Thousands more fled on foot because there were not enough vehicles to go around. Belongings were shoved into plastic bags, children were strapped to bodies and carried, and elderly people were pushed in wheelbarrows.”

The author describes how her fellow civilians in the Swat Valley had to flee in a panic when the Pakistani government gave them three days to evacuate the region. Yousafzai demonstrates how most people in the region had few resources and took only their most important possessions with them.

“Evacuating civilians was the only chance the army had for defeating the Taliban without causing mass casualties. The Taliban knew that, and keeping us from leaving so they could have innocent human shields was their best course of action.”

Yousafzai adds detail to her description of the evacuation of the Swat Valley by explaining that the Taliban blocked major roads to prevent people from leaving. These disruptions slowed traffic for the thousands of people who needed to leave the cities of the Swat Valley. She claims that the Taliban’s strategy was to avoid major confrontation with the Pakistani army by hiding among the residents of the Swat Valley, and this is what motivated them to block the roads.

“We had our IDP cards for food rations, like millions of others. Even formerly wealthy individuals who might have owned fields of grain now stood in line for a bag of flour.”

Yousafzai discusses how families like hers survived as Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) within Pakistan. Due to the upheaval of leaving the Swat Valley, most civilians faced challenging circumstances to maintain adequate food and shelter while out of their homes.

“We rode in silence as we saw how our city had been transformed. Nearly every building had been sprayed with bullets or reduced to rubble. Entire buildings destroyed. Burned-out cars abandoned in the middle of the street. But I also noticed that the masked men who carried the machine guns that wreaked such havoc were nowhere to be seen.”

Yousafzai paints a picture of returning to her home city, Mingora, in the Swat Valley with her family. After several months away she and her family were shocked to witness the destruction of so much of their hometown. The rubble she returns to hallmarks the violence her town experienced and foreshadows the violence to come.

“I had thought I would finish my education and maybe become a politician to help girls in Pakistan. Then on October 9, 2012, I was shot. I had been targeted by the Taliban for speaking out for girls’ education, and for peace.”

Yousafzai recounts how the Taliban attempted to assassinate her due to her prominent role as a child activist in Pakistan. As a blogger for BBC Urdu and the daughter of the school’s founder Yousafzai was an outspoken opponent of the Taliban and an advocate for girls’ rights.

“It did feel as if we had landed on the moon—everything looked, smelled, and felt different. […] Those early days in Birmingham reminded me of being internally displaced in Pakistan—except the faces, the food, and the language here were foreign.”

Yousafzai felt homesick and overwhelmed during her first few months in the UK. By recounting her struggles to cope with daily life in a new place, Yousafzai illustrates how displaced people’s troubles are not over the moment they arrive in their new homes, and that integrating into a new society requires a great deal of effort.

“And then it was the time I was dreading. I had to say goodbye to my baby sister. Once again, she did not cry. Once again, I felt that deep tremble inside her bones, which matched mine. As we embraced, we whispered in each other’s ear, ‘This is only temporary. I will see you soon.’”

Zaynab, a refugee from Yemen, describes the pain of separating from her sister Sabreen. Because Zaynab was granted a US visa and Sabreen was not, Zaynab had to leave her sister behind in Egypt, a choice which would eventually lead to a long-term separation of the sisters. Zaynab’s decision to leave her sister for the US demonstrates how displaced people are often separated for various reasons in search of a better life.

“‘If we get caught, we will wind up in jail,’ I heard someone say. That was when I got really scared. I knew what we were doing was risky, but I never imagined going to jail. For what? For simply wanting a better life? For wanting to be reunited with my sister?”

Sabreen recalls learning that her immigration route from Egypt to Italy was illegal, and that she could be jailed if she was caught. As a teenager Sabreen was unaware of the details and potential consequences of her trip and thought that it would give her the best possible chance of seeing her sister Zaynab again. Her discovery highlights the feeling of overwhelming loss, panic, and desperation she and other refugees feel in search for a safe place to live.

“‘Where is the boat with bunk beds we were promised?’ I asked. He said, ‘Once we get to the big boat, everyone will have their own room and a shared bathroom. There will be food.’ But when we finally made it to the third boat, on the sixth day, none of that was true. While it was bigger than our fishing boats, it was made to hold only a hundred people, and there were four hundred of us. We had to squeeze ourselves on.”

Sabreen remembers how the human smugglers manipulated her and her friends into thinking that the voyage from Egypt to Italy would be safe and comfortable. She had thought that since she was charged over $2,000 for the journey, she would be provided with room and board. Instead, she and her friends found themselves on unsafe and overcrowded fishing boats, and eventually needed to be rescued by the Italian coast guard. By including her own judgements and the details of her journey, Sabreen sheds light on the methods of modern-day smuggling, and how some people benefit from human smuggling while risking displaced people’s safety.

“I joined and played so hard that they gave me an award and invited me to play with the team at the tournament in Europe. By then, my sister had moved to Belgium. If I went to Europe, there was a chance I could finally see her. I had my visa ready and all my travel documents, but then President Trump announced the Muslim travel ban. I didn’t have my green card yet. I said, ‘I can’t go.’”

Zaynab recalls helping to establish her school’s first girls’ soccer team and enjoying being able to play again. By including her immense disappointment at being denied the chance to travel due to her Yemeni passport, Zaynab demonstrates the impact that bureaucratic decisions had on her life. She refers to President Trump’s new rule as the “Muslim travel ban,” because it targeted citizens from predominantly Muslim countries. Her quotation illustrates how limiting people’s mobility can have drastic consequences for their quality of life; in her case she was unable to see her sister or participate in a tournament.

“Beyond a few sleeping mats, we had no furniture and no electricity. We had to walk a long way for water, which we used for drinking, cooking, and bathing. But I didn’t worry as much about those challenges as I did about school—I was supposed to be in the ninth grade that year. If I did not continue studying, I could lose my chance to go to college. I could lose my chance of a future.”

Muzoon describes the sparse reality of life in a refugee camp in Jordan. While the family experienced material poverty, Muzoon was focused on trying to continue learning. Like Malala, her education was interrupted by the war, and she felt that her chances of going to college would be diminished if she missed too much school. An ambitious person, this anxiety was more pertinent for her than worrying about daily issues.

“We spent eight days in the mountains. We weren’t the only ones who fled their village. Thousands of people, just like us, were on the run. Some told stories of pretending to be dead, lying among their slaughtered loved ones and family members. We were lucky to be alive and together as a family. And we never went back home.”

Najla remembers how her family survived the ISIS attack on their town in northern Iraq. By sharing what they escaped she shows the extent of the violence in her region and why they could never return.

“Since that first rainy house, I have moved eight times. But I have never felt ‘at home’ in any other place than the one I keep alive in my head, from when I was a child, before my whole world changed. Even though the government has declared the war over, the place I once called home is still considered guerilla territory. It is still unsafe. Besides, we have been gone for so long that we are outsiders not only in Cali but there, too.”

Maria is an internally displaced person in Columbia. Her passage showed that even residing in her own country as a displaced person, she struggled to find permanent lodging and community. As a result, she continues to feel like an ‘outsider’ in her new city and does not have a stable home she can enjoy.

“I took a deep breath, begged God that everything would turn out okay, and then got on the raft. I was so close. But I’d heard lots of people say that crossing that river was particularly dangerous, the place where most were caught and deported before they even entered the United States.”

Analisa gives the reader some insight into her state of mind as she prepares to cross from the Mexican side of the river to the American side. She shows how immigrants from Central America to the US know what the journey will be like and are aware of the risks involved. Analisa’s quote illustrates her desperation to reach the US and find her brother Ernesto.

“I didn’t want to do a GED, so I went to the high school counselor in charge of admitting students and asked him to please give me a chance. He explained that his experience with refugees was that so many had missed so much school by the time they arrived that it was very hard for them to catch up and become acclimated. I convinced him I could do it—I was a good student and spoke decent English. I just needed a chance.”

Marie Claire’s main goal was to complete her high school education and become the first person in her family to do so. When she arrived in the US, she had to advocate for herself and convince the high school authorities that she was able to complete her studies in English, despite not being fluent in the language. Her passage demonstrates that displaced people often must continue to advocate for their own needs, even after they arrive in new countries.

“Meanwhile, Marie Claire’s family saw none of the flaws I was worried about. They loved the house. They were completely overjoyed. In Zambia they didn’t have running water, let alone their own bathroom. They lit their home with candles. They were overwhelmed, in fact, by how big the house was. I immediately saw the extent of my privilege: Where I saw so many problems, they saw opportunities.”

Jennifer, an American volunteer who helped Marie Claire’s family settle into their new home, describes how luxurious their modest American home felt in comparison to their lodging in Zambia. Seeing how their family reacted to their new house prompted Jennifer to reflect on the many comforts of her everyday life that she had previously taken for granted.

“The military and the police had surrounded our village and were setting fire to every house. We had heard the military was coming through the villages, raping women and young girls and killing the men. Terrified they were going to do the same to us, we grabbed our children and ran into the forest, lucky to escape. We later learned that my husband’s brother was killed along with many of our neighbors.”

Ajida makes the stakes of her family’s escape clear as she tells the reader about the actions of Myanmar’s military and police forces. Ajida uses plain and clear language to attribute blame to the Myanmar military and acknowledges that she and her family were fortunate to escape.

“When we arrived in Bangladesh, I fought back tears. We had made it. The threat of the genocide was behind us. It took us three hours to walk to the camp. There were so many Rohingya fleeing that we just followed everyone else. We were a crowd of strangers marching together toward a common unknown destination. But the relief I felt did not erase the fear. I had no idea what to expect in this next phase.”

Ajida describes the great exodus of Rohingya people leaving Myanmar without any idea of what they would encounter in Bangladesh. While life in refugee camps is safer for refugees than staying in their hometowns, Ajida’s passage also shows that it is a frightening and stressful experience.

“As I said goodbye to the Kilimanjaro group and boarded the small plane to Entebbe, I felt anxious, sick to my stomach. I had my Canadian passport, which I carry everywhere I go. But I was also carrying my Ugandan citizenship card, which I had with me when I left as a two-year-old. Which of these things identified me truly?”

Because Farah left Uganda at the age of two, she did not have any memory of her home country, yet felt very connected to it because of her parents’ stories. As a child she always felt that she stood out in Canada due to her Asian heritage and experienced bullying from other Canadian children for this reason. Going to Uganda for the first time raised more questions about identity for Farah and prompted her to reflect on how Uganda had become very foreign to her.

“Pakistan has changed since I left. Population growth has led to congestion in some areas. There are many more houses and people in Swat than there were in 2012. But there is also more peace. I stood on the side of a hill and looked across at the mountains where the Taliban once headquartered their forces in our area. Now there are only trees and green fields.”

In an uplifting part of her Epilogue, Yousafzai recalls returning to Mingora in the Swat Valley of Pakistan and seeing how her region has changed since its war with the Taliban years ago. Her description of a growing and peaceful city gives a sense of closure and demonstrates that even conflict zones can improve a lot in a short period of time.