Last night, Sam and I participated in a “rights education and monitoring session” at the Maitland Refugee Reception Center. The session was part of a Community Monitoring Advocacy Project (CMAP for short. This country loves its acronyms) that we have been primarily focusing on at our internship with The Black Sash. Essentially, CMAP is trying to enable people to monitor and safeguard their rights when interacting with government agencies like SASSA and Home Affairs. They try to establish a system of checks and balances. For me, it was a very eye-opening experience.
This Reception Center is responsible for granting permits and documentation to foreigners seeking refuge in South Africa. They come from all over- the DRC, Sudan, Burundi, Nigeria, Somalia, Rwanda- looking for peace, security, work, an escape. The program strives to ensure these refugees are being treated equally, in a system and country wrought with xenophobia. We were told to simply arm ourselves with flyers, advice and information for refugees and asylum-seekers coming to the center, prepare for some interviews, and venture off into the unknown.
Leonie, our supervisor, likes to call these excursions “pavement stands.” It makes me think of a protest, like West Side Story meets the Civil Rights Movement. I guess it really is a kind of struggle, given we can only monitor from outside the premises of the center, without permission, and Home Affairs isn’t exactly thrilled about it, for whatever reason. It’s not a perfect system, just one we’re trying to improve, I suppose.
We decided to go to Maitland around 5 p.m. for a couple of reasons: that way, we wouldn’t interfere with Home Affairs’ operating hours, we could try to catch people leaving the center, and possibly interview those said to be camping out for the night. The number of refugees trying to be processed at the center on a daily basis is astounding. Because there is such a demand for aid from the thousands of people crossing South Africa’s border, you can imagine the crowd. There is usually a group of refugees gathering at night, resigned to sit and wait or sleep until the Center’s gates open around 4 a.m., and wait again until the office officially opens around 8. This was the group of people that we interacted with. I learned a great deal about the struggles they are facing while trying to build new lives in South Africa.
For many of them, this wasn’t their first time on the pavement. The asylum-seeker permit that the majority of them are trying to renew is valid for only a couple of months, and there is a quick turn-around for many of the others. In order to remain in the country legally, these asylum-seekers must travel from wherever they are living, month after month (sometimes week after week) to the Reception Center in hopes of a renewal.
Being first in line after sleeping there overnight does not always guarantee someone service. A number of the refugees I spoke to mentioned there were a number of foreign nationals organizing a bribing system for better spots in line. If you have money, you get right in. If not, you spend a great portion of your “new life” waiting, and waiting… and waiting. Rain or shine, employed or not, single or with their children in tow.
Speaking to these refugees and hearing their stories was the most rewarding part of my internship thus far. I had heard about refugees and their struggles in war-torn countries far away from my own home, but I had never come face to face with someone who had been forced to pick up their life and move away, indefinitely. Many of them are terrified of their futures, scared for their families, fearful of their own shadows. They are people with dreams, experiences, and wishes for a normal life.
I wanted to get a couple of pictures outside the center while we were there, though the refugees obviously preferred not to show their faces. One women, staying overnight with her 5 month old son, asked me why I would want a picture. No one had ever asked her before. I thought the least I could do was put a face, or figure, to these reports we were making. These people are so much more than stacks of paper in some office waiting to be filed. They deserve to be recognized for what they are: human beings in need. I hope we can help them find what they are looking for.
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