A VILLAGE WELCOME Program founder helps African refugees adjust to life in United States
Nkazi Sinandile stands at the door of her virtual Bambanani Village, peering into the face of each frail child before giving him or her a grandmotherly hug.
Bambanani isn’t a real village — it’s a movable concept, created by Sinandile to embrace the increasing number of Africans being sent by the U.S. State Department straight to Albuquerque from refugee camps in Burundi, Eritrea and the Democratic Republic of Congo.
“In Africa, people are known for living in a community,” says Sinandile, a native of South Africa. “But when you come to America, you are an individual. If there is no sense of community, you feel lost.”
Bambanani means “unity” in Sinandile’s native Xhosa language, and she, along with other volunteers at Catholic Charities, is trying to create a sense of unity among the Africans by giving them warm, inviting gathering places to learn English and adjust to their new homes.
The village could be on the sports field, in their homes or on the donated bus that takes them to school, grocery stores or doctor’s appointments.
On this chilly Sunday, Bambanani Village is in the classrooms of Escuela Del Sol Montessori at the Harwood Art Center, where Sinandile, 58, and her fellow volunteers in Catholic Charities’ Refugee Resettlement Program are teaching English to the adults and “life skills” to the children. The group of helpers includes her husband, Lungile, and their grown daughter, Maniki.
The little ones smile shyly as Sinandile shows them how to make Christmas sugar cookies from a mix.
“Bowl,” says Sinandile firmly as she passes a big blue bowl among the seated children. “Egg,” she says, passing the egg along, too.
Newly arrived
Most of the Africans have been in the United States for a few weeks. They are official refugees, which means the United Nations helped them flee dire conditions in their home countries.
As defined by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, a refugee is “a person who has fled his or her country … and who is unable or unwilling to return because of a ‘well-founded’ fear of persecution based on … race, religion, nationality, social group or political opinion.”
The refugees don’t have cars or jobs and most don’t speak a word of English. But according to a strict timeline laid out by the U.N., they must become independent quickly. Catholic Charities services and U.S. government benefits are provided for six months.
Aided by government grants and private donations, Catholic Charities works with the State Department to provide housing, jobs, health care and resettlement skills to the refugees. But there are some things the charity can’t do, says Sinandile.
Things like taking individual refugees to doctor appointments, teaching them how to drive, showing them how to safely use household appliances or providing intensive English education after regular business hours.
Not to mention uniquely African touches such as making sure there is a hot meal and a friendly face waiting to greet each refugee, whatever time of the night or day they arrive in Albuquerque.
That’s where Sinandile’s program comes in — driving refugees to appointments in a donated bus, helping them to find familiar foods in stores or bringing English tutors to the refugees’ homes for intensive lessons.
Sinandile also organizes “ESL Sundays,” gatherings at Escuela Del Sol that involve the whole family. During the get-togethers, Sinandile often gets the children out on the sports field so they can learn English words while doing something familiar and nonthreatening.
A musician, Sinandile also uses African drums to teach children the rhythms of English.
“How-are-you?” she asks, beating on the drum once for each word. “I-am-fine,” she answers herself, reinforcing the rhythm. “I really try to reach out to them in a culturally competent manner.”
Catholic Charities is grateful to Sinandile for developing the Bambanani Village concept, says Michael Nutkiewicz, director of the group’s Refugee Resettlement Program.
“Nkazi is kind of fearless in getting involved with the nitty gritty of refugee resettlement,” he says. “We need people like Nkazi because our resources are not great enough to provide the kind of one-on-one, day-to-day activities that are required.”
It helps so much to have someone in Albuquerque who has experienced conditions similar to the refugees, says Nutkiewicz.
“She has a quiet passion for the plight of refugees and the challenges that she knows they will have in settling in a new society. She took that passion and became an activist.”
Feeling lost
Though Sinandile was never a refugee, she says she understands the confusion and anxiety felt by the new arrivals.
She came to the United States for college 26 years ago, leaving behind the oppressive apartheid regime in her native South Africa. She put herself though school, married a fellow African, had three children and became a pediatric nurse at the University of New Mexico.
“I remember when I first came to this country. I struggled, but I knew English. When you come to this country without knowing how to speak