Hayder is the son Aimo never got. Grethe is the grandmother Hamza finally got.
For refugees care and safety are necessary for the integration to begin.
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By Anna Hofman, Ella Kiviniemi and Eva Beate Strømsted
“We are like a family,” Grethe Dalbak says and looks at Hamza Frotan, 21, sitting beside her on the couch.
Grethe Dalbak, a 62 year old municipal worker, offers the young Afghan refugee a cake to make sure he will not leave her place on an empty stomach. Like a grandchild, Hamza says he is not hungry, but soon realizes that the struggle is useless and eventually takes the pastry, pleasing Grethe.
Although Hamza moved out from the refugee homeshare, which he shared with three other underaged refugees some years ago, he still keeps in touch with his former guardian, Grethe.
This Saturday they are meeting at her place, Tønsberg, in Norway’s oldest city.
“Grethe is the one I have the best connection with from the homeshare, because she really cares. She is like a grandmother to me.”
Hamza Frotan, 21
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Hamza crossed thirteen countries in seven months, to start a new and better life. Many refugees lost their lives while fleeing over the Mediterranean sea, also Hamza barely managed it. However, he arrived Norway at 2th of September 2010, just 15 years old. Ten months later he received his asylum.
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“Many of my friends became brainwashed as they got recruited to be terrorists by the Taliban.
It was not a life for me. I believed that I was
smarter than that,
so I decided to leave Afghanistan.”
– Hamza Frotan
“Pahka!”
“Problem child!”
Hayder Saud Allehif, 22 years old, stretches out his hand and pats Aimo Salo’s soft belly. Pahka, which means a swollen tree trunk in Finnish, has become Hayder’s special word with which to tease the old man. Aimo clutches Hayder’s hand and tries to clap back, laughing. The two men both turn into little boys.
In the village of Kangasala, Finland, an unlikely friendship has developed in an old wooden house surrounded by apple trees. It is now six months that Hayder, an Iraqi refugee, has been living with the 74- year old pensioner Aimo.
Despite the 52 years between them, their shared life seems to be at ease. Laundry is done, grass is mown, and groceries are bought without too many rules or much planning. Hayder likes to cook for Aimo, who does not feel at home in the kitchen. Aimo on the other hand has built a small gym in the basement for Hayder.
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For Aimo Salo, Hayder brought life into the big house. Aimo had lived alone in for 16 years, since the death of his wife.
“Hayder is like the son I never had,” confesses Aimo, who then bows his head down; he has no children of his own.
Hayder’s family in Iraq is glad that their son has a real home in Finland – though his actual father might be a bit jealous.
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“‘Hello, can you remember you also have a dad called Saud?’ he once said to me on the phone, when I talked about all the things me and Aimo had done,” Hayder says, laughing.
Hayder Saud Allehif, 22
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Hayder grew up in the city of Basra in Southern Iraq. He left his family and work to flee from religious pressure and set on a three-month journey through Europe, arriving to Finland through Sweden on 15th September 2015.
“The militias were following me all the time and that caused problems to my family. In Iraq people have no freedom of religion. I can never go back, not even for a visit. “
– Hayder Saud Allehif
The rules of everyday life
“Should I do the dishes, Grethe?”
“No, you do not! You are my guest now!”
But this time, Hamza does not listen to her. Although he hated Grethe’s didactic comments when they lived together, he now understands that having a tidy house is really important.
“My home is actually really clean now. Do you believe that?” he says and asks if she is as strict with the new young refugees.
Grethe’s face lights up with proudness. She is, actually even stricter. But looking at Hamza and his good manners, she knows that it is important.
It is now four years since Hamza has moved out of the refugee homeshare where he first met Grethe Dalbak.
As a municipal worker, Grethe believes that placing young refugees in shared homes as well as foster homes like Hayder’s, is the best way to integrate them.
“It is important to give them care, safety, love and hope,” she says.
Grethe has worked as a social worker in a homeshare for underaged refugees since 2009. The time there has made her realize that these four elements are the most important in helping integration to take place. And there are many others who agree.
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“The best alternative is to place them directly in a real home and into a place where someone knows how society works. To get personal help is very important”.
This is what one of the initiators of Refugees Welcome Sweden*, China Åhlander, says about moving into a private home. She continues by emphasising the importance of having a family as well as a context. “It makes them feel alive”.
The organization Refugees Welcome is becoming more and more visible all over Europe. The initiative and work process, which is originally from Germany, has since 2015 been applied in several Nordic countries.
Refugees Welcome primarily works by finding private housing for refugees, currently resident in reception centres. It offers them a place to live by matching them with a local who has offered their home.
China Åhlander points out the importance of their work by stating: “They have nothing to live for when they stay in the reception centres. Having a home gives them at least a little bit of hope”.
Waiting for life to start
Even though Hayder now lives safely in Aimo’s house, it was not easy to begin a new life in Finland. When Hayder first arrived in 2015, he was put in the asylum centre of Kaivanto in the village of Kangasala. For Hayder it was very stressful to live in packed small rooms, and he hardly got any sleep. Even though lots of people lived in the centre, good friends were hard to find.
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“I still have to wait, but it’s better to wait here with Aimo,” says Hayder.
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It takes a long time to receive a decision on asylum application. In the Nordic countries the wait can range between several months to over a year. Some people wait for more than 12 months without even having an interview. Refugees spend their days waiting for an answer – doing nothing.
Waiting is the only thing most refugees do because enrolling in school requires documents. During their wait most of the refugees live, just like Hayder, in overcrowded reception centres – without anyone looking after them and without any contact with the outside world they are passively letting time go by.
Elsa Carlberg works for the Swedish organisation Kompis Sverige as a project manager. The organisation matches locals together with refugees who have been granted asylum.
Being alone leads to a feeling of hopelessness, according to her.
“In our work we are striving for people to feel valuable. Without any social context people feel alienated,” she says.
When prejudice is left aside
When Aimo, a local pensioner, started volunteering at the reception centre of Kangasala,
he didn’t know any foreigners in Finland personally before meeting Haydar. In a small Finnish village like Kangasala there were not a lot of immigrants.
Through small talk he and Hayder got to know each other. But it was not until an incident in November that they became friends.
One November night, when Hayder was walking to the grocery store, he was attacked by a group of Finnish men. The men struck him with a knife and hit both his arms and legs. Luckily the thick winter jacket protected him.
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When Aimo heard what happened he was shocked. Later he came to see Hayder at the hospital and eventually invited him to his home.
Slowly, the young refugee started spending more and more time at the old man’s house, going to the sauna with him, watching TV, playing the piano and cooking Iraqi food for him. Once, when it got too late he stayed overnight, the next time over a weekend.
Their friendship faced a turning point when it was announced that the reception centre was to close in Spring 2015.
Once again, they were in a sauna, the perfect place for Finnish to discuss sensitive topics.
“He asked me to move in with him. I had hoped for it,” Hayder admits.
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That was definitely not the last common sauna evening for these two.
Developing a social life
When Grethe first met Hamza, while working as a social worker in 2011, he could barely say “Hello” and “How are you doing?” in Norwegian, despite already being in Norway for a whole year. Due to trauma he could not finish Norwegian elementary school, nor did he have any plans for the future.
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Now, Grethe sees a completely new person in front of her as Hamza gesticulates while describing his entrepreneurial ideas, throwing his hand in the air while dressed in an Italian beige jacket and a Daniel Wellington watch.
“Grethe look, I want to make it like this! Do you understand, Grethe? It is probably not that good of an explanation, but…”
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Hamza reaches out to pat her gently on the leg to ensure Grethe’s attention when she looks away to have a sip of her tea. Hamza is so engaged in his business ideas, that he cannot allow time to fly pass aimlessly, not even for a second. Grethe Dalbak quickly returns to the conversation.
“Yes, ah-haa, I see! Well, Hamza, if you make this, I will definitely buy it!” she says.
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The smile on Grethe’s face reveals how proud she is of the young man sitting beside her.
During his six years in Norway, Hamza says he has increased his number of friends and acquaintances from zero to two thousand. Next year he wants to do an undergraduate degree in nursing or in business at BI Norwegian Business School.
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“When my friends ask me what my goal is for the future, I say that my dreams have become so big, that sometimes I cannot understand that this life will be enough to realise all of them. I wonder if I will have several lives to fulfil everything,” he says and raises his hand above his head to visualise the goals he is working towards.
Both Kompis Sverige and Refugees Welcome, along with other similar initiatives, emphasise the importance of having a social context and a social network when being integrated into a new society. Refugees Welcome are even focusing on this before the asylum seekers have been given an answer to whether their asylum will be granted or not.
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”The social presence in life and feeling that you, as a new member of the country, have a friend to talk to who can help you out, someone from whom you can learn more about the culture and the language – it is very important. And at the same time giving locals an understanding of what it is like to be new,” states Carlberg when describing how a social network can affect the lives of refugees.
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Having a local contact that can help you with terminology and such is important for the sake of being included in a new society.
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Without anyone to talk to when learning a language many tend to use their native language, even when attending language courses.
Hayder, who lived at the centre for half a year, has been very active in learning Finnish. Six months after moving in with Aimo, he has reached a level of Finnish studies that are good enough for him to survive in work life.
”Increasing the feeling of compatibility and belonging is crucial,” Carlberg states.
Without such initiatives as Kompis Sverige and Refugees Welcome, and without any networking opportunities, new members of the society have a hard time integrating. And at the same time the interest and dedication of the locals is being lost.
If Aimo and Hayder had not met, both of their lives would have been very different today. And even though there might still be some insecure jokes and teasing their trust in each other, as well as their relationship is gradually growing stronger.
”Sometimes I think if he is nice to me then that is just because youngsters are supposed to be nice to old people in his culture,” Aimo says glancing at Hayder.
”He is a wonderful guy. Even if he does not always understand my words I think he can understand my thoughts,” Aimo adds.
With an eye on the future
Morten Stephansen, section chief in the Integration- and Diversity Directorate (IMDi) in Norway, says that ‘integration’ is a word that involves both parties. Both society and its new citizens need to adapt to the new situation. According to him, this makes it possible to live together side by side.
“And it seems that Hamza is an example of one who has fared well in our society. He is an example of a good integration process,” he says.
There are two especially important things Hamza remembers that Grethe taught him about Norwegian society.
”Grethe has always said that education and work are the most important things for achieving a good life in Norway. I agree,” Hamza says.
According to the Central Bureau of Statistics in Norway, in 2014, 90 percent of unaccompanied refugee minors from Afghanistan who were granted asylum in Norway, are employed and educated after four years.
Hamza himself found employment at Kiwi, a local grocery store, six months after moving to the homeshare. After a short while, he was given a permanent job there.
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Earning his own money, he moved out from the refugee housing for minors in 2012. Now, six years after arriving in Norway, he rents his own apartment in the same neighborhood and has bought his own car.
He says that many of his Norwegian friends feel that he has become one of them. However, Hamza does not believe that it is possible to become completely integrated.
“Sometimes I ask myself: Am I Afghan or am I Norwegian?” Hamza tells. “One can try to be Norwegian, but there will always be some values that will hamper the integration. For example, you can have all the Norwegian values in place but lack the language skills, or maybe you know the language, but another value is lacking,” Hamza explains.
Stephansen says it important for new citizens to have the freedom to preserve their culture.
“The fact that a person can retain their own values and their own culture, while living a good life in Norway - it is seen as a sign of good integration.”
Aimo and Hayder are sitting in the car. Even though Hayder is qualified as a taxi driver in Iraq, in Finland he has no driving licence. He dreams of getting a job at a construction site, but his attempts have not succeeded so far.
“I think you should consider some further education later on. That’s important to have in Finland, if you want to get a decent salary,” Aimo advices.
Hayder stays silent. He takes one day at a time, because nothing is certain for him. He had his asylum interview in the summer of 2016, and is still waiting for the results. In general, the chances for an Iraqi to stay in Finland, have reduced during 2016. In June, 77 per cent of the applicants received a negative response to their application.
Nevertheless, Hayder believes his case is different and that he will receive a positive response. It might still take a long time before he knows if he will be able to continue to live in Finland.
Hayder & Hamza
This is a story about how personal relationships impact integration of a refugee in contrast to the life inside the walls of a reception centre.
Hayder and Hamza are both refugees. One of them has been in Finland for one year and the other one in Norway for six.