HANDOUT 1: MUHAMMADS STORY

HUMANS OF NEW YORK REFUGEE STORIES:

https://medium.com/@humansofnewyork/humans-of-new-york-refugee-stories243336f4adeb#.qfeairqtl
I want to begin this refugee series with a post from the summer of 2014. This is
Muhammad, who I first met last year in Iraqi Kurdistan. At the time, he had just
fled the war in Syria and was working as a clerk at my hotel. When war broke
out, hed been studying English Literature at the University of Damascus, so his
English was nearly perfect. He agreed to work as my interpreter and we spent
several days interviewing refugees who were fleeing the advance of ISIS. As is
evident from the quote below, I left Muhammad with the expectation that hed
soon be traveling to the United Kingdom with fake papers. I am retelling the
story because I have just now reconnected with Muhammad. He will be working
again as my interpreter for the next ten days. But the story he told me of what
happened since we last met is tragic.
PART ONE
The fighting got very bad. When I left Syria to come here, I only had $50. I was
almost out of money when I got here. I met a man on the street, who took me
home, and gave me food and a place to stay. But I felt so ashamed to be in his
home that I spent 11 hours a day looking for jobs, and only came back to sleep. I
finally found a job at a hotel. They worked me 12 hours a day, for 7 days a week.
They gave me $400 a month. Now I found a new hotel now that is much better. I
work 12 hours per day for $600 a month, and I get one day off. In all my free
hours, I work at a school as an English teacher. I work 18 hours per day, every
day. And I have not spent any of it. I have not bought even a single T-shirt. Ive
saved 13,000 Euro, which is how much I need to buy fake papers. There is a man
I know who can get me to Europe for 13,000. Im leaving next week. Im going
once more to Syria to say goodbye to my family, then Im going to leave all this
behind. Im going to try to forget it all. And Im going to finish my education.
(August 2014 : Erbil, Iraq)

PART TWO:
Before leaving for Europe, I went back to Syria to see my family once more. I
slept in my uncles barn the entire time I was there, because every day the police
were knocking on my fathers door. Eventually my father told me: If you stay any
longer, they will find you and they will kill you. So I contacted a smuggler and
made my way to Istanbul. I was just about to leave for Europe when I received a
call from my sister. She told me that my father had been very badly beaten by
police, and unless I sent 5,000 Euro for an operation, he would die. That was my
money to get to Europe. But what could I do? I had no choice. Then two weeks
later she called with even worse news. My brother had been killed by ISIS while
he was working in an oil field. They found our address on his ID card, and they
sent his head to our house, with a message: Kurdish people arent Muslims. My
youngest sister found my brothers head. This was one year ago. She has not
spoken a single word since. (Kos, Greece)

PART THREE:
For two weeks my tears didnt stop. Nothing made sense. Why did these things
happen to my family? We did everything right. Everything. We were very honest
with everyone. We treated our neighbours well. We made no big mistakes. I was
under so much pressure at this time. My father was in intensive care, and every
day my sisters called and told me that ISIS was getting closer to our village. I
went completely crazy. I fainted in the street one day and woke up in the
hospital. I gave the rest of my money to a smuggler to help my sisters escape to
Iraq. Now I only had 1000 Euro left and I was stranded in Turkey. My father
recovered from his operation at this time. He called me and asked how Id paid
for his surgery. I told him that the money came from a friend. He asked if I had
made it to Europe. For the first time ever, I lied to my father. I didnt want him to
feel guilty about his surgery. I told him that I was in Europe, and I was safe, and
there was nothing to worry about. (Kos, Greece)

PART FOUR:
After I told my father that Id made it to Europe, I wanted nothing more than to
turn that lie into the truth. I found a smuggler and told him my story. He acted
like he cared very much and wanted to help me. He told me that for 1000 Euros,
he could get me to a Greek Island. He said: Im not like the other smugglers. I
fear God. I have children of my own. Nothing bad will happen to you. I trusted
this man. One night he called me and told me to meet him at a garage. He put
me in the back of a van with twenty other people. There were tanks of gasoline
back there, and we couldnt breath. People started to scream and vomit. The
smuggler pulled out a gun, pointed it at us, and said: If you dont shut up, I will
kill you. He took us to a beach, and while he prepared the boat, his partner kept
the gun pointed at us. The boat was made of plastic and was only three meters
long. When we got on it, everyone panicked and the boat started to sink.
Thirteen of the people were too scared to go. But the smuggler said that if we
changed our minds, he would keep the money, so seven of us decided to go
ahead. The smuggler told us that he would guide us to the island, but after a few
hundred meters, he jumped off the boat and swam to shore. He told us to keep
going straight. The waves got higher and higher and water began to come in the
boat. It was completely black. We could see no land, no lights, only ocean. Then
after thirty minutes the motor stopped. I knew we all would die. I was so scared
that my thoughts completely stopped. The women started crying because none
of them could swim. I lied and told them that I could swim with three people on
my back. It started to rain. The boat began to turn in circles. Everyone was so
frightened that nobody could speak. But one man kept trying to work on the
motor, and after a few minutes it started again. I dont remember how we
reached shore. But I remember I kissed all the earth I could find. I hate the sea

now. I hate it so much. I dont like to swim it. I dont like to look at it. I hate
everything about it. (Kos, Greece)

PART FIVE:
The island we landed on was called Samothrace. We were so thankful to be
there. We thought wed reached safety. We began to walk toward the police
station to register as refugees. We even asked a man on the side of the road to
call the police for us. I told the other refugees to let me speak for them, since I
spoke English. Suddenly two police jeeps came speeding toward us and slammed
on the brakes. They acted like we were murderers and theyd been searching for
us. They pointed guns at us and screamed: Hands up! I told them: Please, we
just escaped the war, we are not criminals! They said: Shut up, Malaka! I will
never forget this word: Malaka, Malaka, Malaka. It was all they called us. They
threw us into prison. Our clothes were wet and we could not stop shivering. We
could not sleep. I can still feel this cold in my bones. For three days we had no
food or water. I told the police: We dont need food, but please give us water. I
begged the commander to let us drink. Again, he said: Shut up, Malaka! I will
remember this mans face for the rest of my life. He had a gap in his teeth so he
spit on us when he spoke. He chose to watch seven people suffer from thirst for
three days while they begged him for water. We were saved when they finally
they put us on a boat and sent us to a camp on the mainland. For twelve days we
stayed there before walking north. We walked for three weeks. I ate nothing but
leaves. Like an animal. We drank from dirty rivers. My legs grew so swollen that I
had to take off my shoes. When we reached the border, an Albanian policeman
found us and asked if we were refugees. When we told him yes, he said that he
would help us. He told us to hide in the woods until nightfall. I did not trust this

man, but I was too tired to run. When night came, he loaded us all into his car.
Then he drove us to his house and let us stay there for one week. He bought us
new clothes. He fed us every night. He told me: Do not be ashamed. I have also
lived through a war. You are now my family and this is your house too. (Kos,
Greece)

PART SIX:
After one month, I arrived in Austria. The first day I was there, I walked into a
bakery and met a man named Fritz Hummel. He told me that forty years ago he
had visited Syria and hed been treated well. So he gave me clothes, food,
everything. He became like a father to me. He took me to the Rotary Club and
introduced me to the entire group. He told them my story and asked: How can
we help him? I found a church, and they gave me a place to live. Right away I
committed myself to learning the language. I practiced German for 17 hours a
day. I read childrens stories all day long. I watched television. I tried to meet as
many Austrians as possible. After seven months, it was time to meet with a judge
to determine my status. I could speak so well at this point, that I asked the judge
if we could conduct the interview in German. He couldnt believe it. He was so
impressed that Id already learned German, that he interviewed me for only ten
minutes. Then he pointed at my Syrian ID card and said: Muhammad, you will
never need this again. You are now an Austrian! (Kos, Greece)