Faduma

Faduma Ahmed’s experience living as a refugee influenced her decision to pursue a career in public health. She’s a volunteer in Kenya with the CMMB team.

Faduma Ahmed’s experience living as a refugee influenced her decision to pursue a career in public health. After having witnessed the largely preventable deaths of so many people, she is now committed to being part of the solution. She will be joining our team in Kenya to volunteer as a public health professional. Here she shares more about her motivation and why going ‘home’ to Kenya is something she has always dreamed of.

I am one person whose life was changed by a war most of my friends have never heard of. I carry, like a shadow, a childhood that I never knew and a civil war that forever altered the course of my life.

Mogadishu, Somalia is home. It is the place where my innocent eyes first opened. After the war broke out, living in Somalia was unbearable. Food and water were considered luxuries and an empty plate was often the norm. When we did eat, it was often only lentils cooked in a very small amount of water. There just wasn’t enough water to drink and cook, so mom had to improvise. I’ll never forget the day she put water on a tablespoon so that, at least, we could wet our mouths. Being really thirsty is hard to explain.

Eventually, as things got worse, my family and I were forced to leave our home, our possessions, and everyone we loved. We relocated to Djibouti. We moved hoping for some relief from the conditions that war had caused in our country, but once we arrived, we found a new set of challenges. We didn’t have the money to begin a new life and everyday was a struggle – made more difficult by the fact that we were different.

My mom was advised that the cost of living in Ethiopia was better and so we moved again. By this time my dad had found his way to America. Once he found and settled into a job he started to send money that helped us start building a life. We didn’t speak the language and at first we didn’t know anyone, so my mom struggled through. But slowly we started meeting others who had also fled Somalia. It was nice to meet people with a shared history, people who understood what we had lost and what we had lived through. They helped us to find our way, something I know my mother will always be grateful for. With the money my dad sent from the US, we were able to rent one room, which helped us feel more safe and settled. Once our housing situation was sorted, mom set out to look for a school for my sister and me. It wasn’t easy. Because we didn’t have any legal documents or birth certificates, we were denied access to public schools. So my mom started visiting several private schools, many of which we just couldn’t afford, but eventually she found a school that would accept us.

The school was linked to the Greek Orthodox church and it was run by nuns. I remember everyone in our community expressing shock that my mom would send me, a Muslim girl, to a Greek Orthodox church for schooling. But for everyone who questioned her decision, she responded with full confidence by telling them that she would send me anywhere that would provide me with an education and an opportunity to learn. It was the first school I had ever had an opportunity to attend. It was here that I learned to read and write. But the biggest lessons I learned were based on my mother’s willingness to stand-up to the pressure from our community – it taught me the value of standing up for things you believed in and that education was the key.

Still, life proved to be difficult. Our illegal status and our inability to earn money eventually paralyzed our lives and soon we were forced to move again.

The next time we moved it was to Nairobi, Kenya. We were living in a rundown motel room and again, we didn’t speak the language. Still we believed we would find a way to improve our conditions. Two months after our move, my sister was hit by a car. We didn’t speak the language or know anyone, but the Kenyan people came to help us. I remember when a gentleman offered my mom a ride to the hospital, using hand gestures so that she could understand his intention. My sister was received by the hospital with care and kindness. While my sister was recovering from the injuries sustained from the accident, we struggled through the experience of settling into yet another place. But after several months we were able to settle down and found a nice place to live. It was the first place since leaving our home country that we really felt at home. We begin to live a life rather than trying to find one.

I was able to go to a local school despite not having all the required documents.

My first day at school was a combination of excitement and nerves. I was so happy to be going to school, but I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t speak the language and I knew little about what school was supposed to be about. I was one of oldest kids in my class because the grade system is based on knowledge and previous experience, not age. My teacher was very encouraging and I remember her telling my mom that she would look out for me and help me to catch up to my peers. My teacher made school a place I loved. Her kindness and support always made me feel like I belonged and there is no greater gift than feeling a part of something.

Our move to Kenya turned out to be a life changing move. It was the most amazing time for my family. Kenya gave my family the opportunity to be a family. This country, its people, and their kindness are forever etched in my memory and heart. In the most important ways – Kenya is my home. It’s where I lived my happiest childhood memories. It was the place that I learned about what it means to have access to healthcare – how it can really be the difference between life and death. I remember when my younger sister was battling malaria. My mother was terrified we would lose her. My mom still remembers that while they gave my sister the medical care she needed to survive, the doctors and nurses also offered care and love to my mother. My sister made a full recovery. We were among the fortunate ones.

I want to help because I know what it feels like to be sick and hungry and to have the hand of a stranger reach out to help me. I want to give back because I believe I owe it to all those who helped us when we needed it most. Most of all I want to give back because like CMMB, I want to help create a world in which every human life is valued and health and human dignity are shared by all. 

Who would have imagined that a little girl from Somalia would escape the horrors of war and end up earning a Master’s degree in Public Health? Who would have predicted that many years later, she would return to the place that gave her a home in the hope of giving back to those who had given her so much?

I know that it took the help of countless people to get me where I am today – family, friends and strangers. My mom always says that we must give back because everyone deserves a chance to better their lives like we did. I believe that it’s my turn to give. I am in a position to do so. I am looking forward to giving back to the place that gave me and my family the beautiful opportunity to better our lives.

Inspired by Faduma’s story? Consider volunteering with us!