REFUGEE TEEN’S MISSION FOR MUM:
EVERY day 16-year-old Michael Wright heads out on the roads of South Wales on his road bike with a dedication and resolve usually only seen in professional cyclists.
The teenager, who lives in Abergavenny, hardly notices the foothills of the Brecon Beacons because he learned to ride in the real mountains of Eritrea.
He is thousands of miles away from his homeland and even further away from his mother.
Michael loves cycling, but it is the love for his mum that is fuelling him to cycle 3,500 miles in just 10 weeks.
His 3,500-mile target represents the distance between him and his mum, Ruta Tinsue, who is living destitute and alone in Sudan.
Michael arrived in South Wales four years ago to live with a halfsister he had met on only a handful of occasions. He left his home country of Eritrea aged just 12, because to have stayed there was too unsafe.
At the time Eritrea was still dealing with the aftermath of a bloody battle for independence with neighbouring Ethiopia and it was compulsory for school leavers to enter military service at 17.
Hopes that a peace deal signed in July 2018 after a 20-year standoff would bring an end to national service did not last long. Young Eritreans like Michael are faced with a stark choice: accept a life of forced labour or try to flee.
Eritrea is one of the most isolated and repressive countries in the world and its young people can see no future.
To stay in the Tiravolo district, where Michael grew up, was unsafe.
“It’s so bad that people risk their lives by walking across the desert and taking dangerous boats across the sea to get to a safe place,” he said.
Michael has a 24-year-old halfbrother who used to hide out at their modest-but-comfortable home so he wouldn’t be forced to join the military. He fled across the border into Ethiopia and Michael hasn’t seen him since.
“When you finish school at 17 you have to join the military for four years,” Michael explained softly.
Eritrea’s national service is harsh, pays a pittance, and goes on indefinitely.
Usually conscripts go into the military. It usually lasts between five and 10 years but can last for up to 20.
Conscripts often work 72-hour weeks in extremely harsh conditions with inadequate food and low pay. No-one is legally entitled to take leave, which depends on the whim of commanding officers.
Michael has heard how some people go for years without being allowed to visit home and if they attempt to escape, their parents can end up in jail.
But life wasn’t always so bleak. Michael also describes an idyllic childhood, playing with his friends in the streets and a culture of celebration and community.
Michael’s father, David Wright, was British and travelled to Eritrea in 1993 as a volunteer.
He set up a charity to support those Eritreans living in remote areas and to help them access healthcare and treatment.
David fell in love with the country and its people and eventually Michael’s mother, an Eritrean national who had grown up in poverty and without education.
Michael grew up just outside the capital city, Asmara, and life was idyllic. Speaking haltingly over a patchy Zoom connection, Michael remembers everyone being outside on their bikes all the time. It was the main form of transport.
Holidays were taken on the Red Sea coast and days were spent cycling at the base of the mountains.
“Dad just loved Eritrea and he learned the language so he could speak to the people,” he said.
“Everyone loved him. When he heard mum’s story he started helping her out and eventually they got married.
“I can remember racing on my bike. I was wild, doing ing lots of crazy tricks. I remember ber someone saying to my mum: ‘He’s going to get killed one day.’ I was always racing with my friends to the shop and carrying vegetables in one hand.
“The culture there is very nice. There were events in the summertime where everyone would come together and we’d play games in a big group with our friends. We’d all go to church and then come home and have special Eritrean coffee and everyone would drink it together.”
Coffee originated in neighbouring Ethiopia, so coffee ceremonies are a staple part of the Eritrean culture. “I miss that, I miss the culture the most,” Michael adds.
Life for Michael changed irrevocably on New Year’s Eve in 2013. David, who had suffered a stroke in the years before, died in his sleep aged 77. Aged just nine, Michael had to run to the British Embassy to get help that night.
His death left Michael and his mum in poverty. Unable to work and with no family around to support them, they had to move out of their home.
“We changed house and it was a really bad place for two years,” Michael said.
“There was no hygiene.” The memories are difficult and he doesn’t say much more.
Thanks to his British father Michael had a British passport. Life
after Davi David’s death was hard for him a and his mum. The threat of m military service had not gone away a and, like many other Eritr Eritreans, they made a choice: to escape e the country for a better future.
Ruta sen sent Michael to Wales to live w with his half-sister, Lindsay Wright. W Michael first met Lindsay, Lind who lives in Abergave Abergavenny, at his dad’s funeral. But travelling to safety i in the UK meant leaving his mum behind. She ins instead crossed into Sudan, which borders the north of Eritrea. There was no inter internet in Eritrea, so the hope hop was mother and son could cou at least communicate.
Despi Despite his British links the Eritrean Erit Government tried to block b Michael leaving the country, he said. They managed ma to convince them that t Michael was only leaving lea for a year. “Tha “That was my escape,” he sa said hesitantly. “They didn’ didn’t want me to leave the c country.” The separati ration is a huge weight on his young shoulders. de
“I thought mum would be able to come to the UK, b but she can’t get a v visa,” he explained.
“I have only seen my mum twice in the last four years. I had to go to Sudan to see her.
“I was very shocked the first time I went. Life in Sudan seems to be as difficult as in Eritrea.
“Recently there have been a lot of protests and violence by the military to stop the protesters and I’ve been very worried about her because it was close to where she lives. I am very lucky with the fact that I can speak to her because there is internet there, but not in Eritrea.”
Michael is desperate to raise enough money to support his mum.
He has calculated that £12,000 will be enough to keep her safe until he is an adult and old enough to work and support her himself.
He plans to raise that money by cycling around 350 miles every week. Since arriving in Wales, cycling has been his saviour and his escape, and he is a member of Abergavenny Road Club. He is a familiar face on the local racing circuit and is also part of the Wales Off-Road Academy.
With a quiet confidence he said: “Cycling has always been part of my life and it has helped me through tough times. It is the national sport of Eritrea. I want to be a professional cyclist one day. It is my dream.
“I’m very grateful for the opportunities I have here. I am very determined and I have set a challenge that will test me mentally and physically. I’m going to ride 3,500 miles in 10 weeks. This is the distance from the UK to Eritrea.”
He is determined to reach his target before he heads back to school in September. “Every penny I raise will count towards my mum having a better standard of living,” he adds.
He might only be 16, but Michael conveys a sense of pride and strength as he talks about his plans for the future. He won’t let his experiences so far define who he is or what he will become.
Cycling has taught him that he can be accepted and that he has a future. It has made him more determined to prove to his mum that her sacrifice was worth it.
“I know she had my best interests at heart,” he said, describing the moment he left for Wales. “It was very difficult, but I had the belief that as soon as I got there I would try my best to bring her over. I thought it would be easy, but didn’t realise everything that had to be done.
“I’ve tried everything. I haven’t managed to get her here yet. I thought by raising money from here I could at least give her a better life where she is.”
Starting school in Abergavenny was “exciting”, he said.
Growing up in Eritrea, Michael initially went to an international school, but this became too expensive and he had to leave in fifth grade. He then went to an Italian school and learned the language alongside English.
It meant he wasn’t totally fluent in English when he arrived, but he has picked it up quickly.
“People were very nice and friendly and I got friends very quickly,” he continues. “I never told anyone my story. I just made it up because I didn’t want people knowing and making judgements. So I just kept it secret.
“I told them where I’d come from but I didn’t really tell them about the rest of the story.
“I’ve held off for a long time because there are a few things to get out of it. I thought that by sharing my story I might help my mum, help me, and help other people and Eritreans.
“I was relieved to get it out, and the response was so positive and supportive. I didn’t expect that. I thought people would say they didn’t like me for some reason.”
Michael is planning to ride another 50 miles after we speak. Every mile is a small bridge over the gulf that currently separates him from his mum.
But it’s more than that.
“Being on the bike, everyone accepts you,” said Michael.