Forced out of home, looking for respect
REFUGEES IN DELHI With no option but to leave their countries, refugees are fighting a daily battle of survival with the hope that one day they can return home
Sadio Sheikh, 28, is inconsolable when asked about her parents. A refugee from Somalia, she lives alone in Delhi. Just a mention of her parents unleashes a flood of dark memories she is unable to deal with. She does not want to talk about her parents, her past, why she left Somalia. But she is willing to talk about her life as a refugee in Delhi.
“It is tough being a single woman refugee in Delhi. I face a lot of hardships, and at times harassment; the biggest problem is most people here do not know who refugees are,” says Sheikh.
While Sheikh is not willing to discuss the harassment she faces, Neija from Myanmar, also a single woman refugee who lives in west Delhi’s Bodella village, is more forthcoming.
“At times men follow me, they peek into my room. I do not know whom to turn to for support,” she says. “A lot of people think refugees are some poor, illiterate foreigners and look down upon us. They do not appreciate the circumstances of our arrival here.”
Delhi is home to about half of the 24,000 refugees and 9,000 asylum seekers — mostly Somalis, Syrians, Afghans, Burmese — registered with UNHCR in India.
Then there are about 8,000 Tibetans in the capital; 4,500 of them live in Tibetan refugee colony at Majnu Ka Tila, now known as New Aruna Nagar.
Every refugee in Delhi has his or her own story, own experiences: while most Afghans talk of feeling at home in India, the Somalis feel marginalised and are mistaken for Nigerians.
But there are a few common threads -- lack of access to education, jobs and healthcare because of their not-so-clear legal status in India, which is not a signatory to the 1951 United Nations Refugee Convention.
There is no national refugee law, which means decisions on them are mostly administrative and different groups are often treated differently.
The legal status of refugees in India is governed by the Foreigners Act 1946 and the Citizenship Act 1955.
These Acts do not differentiate between refugees fleeing persecution and violence, and other foreigners. It is a criminal offence, under these Acts, to be without valid travel or residence documents.
“India has a long tradition of welcoming refugees. Although overall positive, refugee protection is delivered in an ad hoc manner through complementary legal and administrative structures in the absence of a clear domestic refugee law and policy framework,” says an UNHCR official.
“We work with our partners to provide protection and assistance to refugees and asylum seekers in diverse areas such as health, education, legal aid, psychosocial counselling, vocational skills and livelihoods,” the official said.
The life of refugees in Delhi goes beyond stereotypical Afghan bakeries and other cultural symbolism. It is a life of daily struggle, a life where thousands of men, women (many of them singles) and refugee children are trying to adjust in a city where they are mostly misunderstood, have no legal rights — and their only identity is a UNHCR refuge card or a registration certificate issued by the government.
There is hardly any local integration, and most of them establish social contacts either within their own and other refugee communities at Refugee Assistant Centres run by UNHCR’s partner organisations.
About 550 refugees visit the Malviya Nagar centre alone every day to attend educational classes, Hindi and English lessons, and to seek help to access healthcare, counselling, etc.
“A lot of them suffer from post-traumatic stress and depression. These problems are less in Afghans as they are quite familiar with Indian culture. Normal therapy does not work with refugees because fundamentally their situation does not change and they are not sure of their future. Many of them are single without any support system,” says Preeti Chauhan , a clinical psychologist who counsels refugees.
The only document most carry is a UNHCR card. The only jobs they get are in the informal sector: casual workers, waiters, beauticians and security guards.
Mohammad Usman, 34, from Myanmar, a casual labourer, says, “We are living in poor conditions; our own Chin brothers here seem to be better off than us. But we are happy, at least we feel safe,” says Usman.
Then there are those like Tenzin Tsering, 25, who lives in new Aruna Nagar. For her, India is the only home she knows. “My family fled Tibet but I was born in India, I want to live here and die here.”
Would she like to settle in Tibet if it became independent? “I would certainly like to visit it, but I am not sure if I would like to settle there,” she says.
DELHI IS HOME TO ABOUT HALF OF THE 24,000 REFUGEES AND 9,000 ASYLUM SEEKERS — MOSTLY SOMALIS, SYRIANS, AFGHANS, BURMESE — REGISTERED WITH UNHCR IN INDIA. THEN THERE ARE
ABOUT 8,000 TIBETANS
IN THE CAPITAL