I was born and grew up in Asmara, a city whose loveaffair never ends; it resonates in my heart in every second of myjourney to seek refuge elsewhere. I have attended my primary, highschool and University classes there. It is a place where I have seen mydream come true; unfortunately, it is also a place where I have seen mydream and the dream of its entire population shuttering.
Ibegan contributing articles to the print media as young as 16 years ofage. In 1998 when I was a high school student of Red Sea school(Ke’has), along with my colleagues, I co-founded a monthly newspapercalled Hareg, with an aim to create a forum where students coulddiscuss on a range of issues that concerns them. I worked aseditor-in-chief of this newspaper until it was banned by the governmentin September 2001.
Meanwhile, as of May 2000, Ibegan working as a reporter and columnist for the largest and the firstprivate newspaper in the country, Setit. I contributed more than 60articles, mostly news analysis regarding international politicalissues.
While I was working for Setit, alongwith my colleagues, I was striving hard to be the true voice of thepeople. However we were under constant threat and at times harassmentfrom the government authorities. In August 2001, I was imprisoned bythe government authorities for writing an investigative reportregarding an unfair land allotment in the Anseba region. I was releasedafter receiving a strict warning not to raise the issue in the mediaagain.
After completing my high school study, Ijoined the University of Asmara in September 2002, where I graduated injournalism and mass communications with B.A degree in September 2007.Though I was in the University for four years, I never stoppedexercising my journalistic carrier. In July 2003, I got the opportunityto work as a freelancer with the local language government newspaperHadas Ertra. I became the first to start the international newsanalysis column that used to appear on bi-weekly basis. I was coveringmostly regional issues and in my articles I endeavoured to remain asobjective as I could. However, this was not without challenge,especially as of the beginning of 2005 when the government officiallyshifted its policies to anti-west and launched propaganda warfare,where I was soon to be found unfit for such a service; consequently, Igot fired. Initially I was told that I was fired because of internalstructural adjustment. But the truth was that I resisted theirinterference in my articles, as they wanted me to insult and underminethe west in general, especially the Bush administration policies in theinternational stage. But I resisted this interference from my boss on anumber of occasions. News must be objectively covered, without anydistortion of facts, and that was what I have learnt when I was trainedto be a professional journalist.
When I lost myjob in Hadas Ertra I had ample time to concentrate on the book that Iwas translating regarding modern world history and the rise ofcapitalism. I completed the book in June 2005 and submitted it to theMinistry of Information for censorship. Soon after, I found myself in aquagmire and underwent 35 days of imprisonment as the result. Theywanted an explanation as what were my motives to translate the book.They even accused me that I was funded by the CIA. After taking thesoft and hard copy of the book, they gave me a strong warning to neverdisclose any information about this particular incident, if not I wouldface grave consequences. Before my imprisonment I was also contributingarticles to Eritrea profile and radio Dmsi Hafash; henceforth, Idecided to quit.
After completing my University study in June 2006, I was assigned to do my compulsory University service with the PFDJ website shaebia.org;in one way I was relieved to escape from working for the Ministry ofInformation, as my animosity with acting Minister Ali Abdu was at itspeak then. I also felt saddened when I knew that I had to work for anorganization, which is responsible for the Eritrean people’s misery.It’s ridiculous why they have chosen me to work for such anorganization in the first place, which is traditionally run by theso-called amenable citizens. After all they knew my background, hence,it was a moment of a big personal and professional test for me, but Inever made any compromise. It is an organization that I want to see itsdemise, but I found myself to do its dirty work by advocating itsbrutal policies, consequently my hunger for writing diminished. If theywere to force me to do something without my consent, I was prepared topay whatever price, in defence of press freedom. Even though I wasfully aware of the grave consequence, I decided to remain as aprofessional journalist. In the one year and three months of my staywith the website. I have never been given a single chance from my bossto get out of Asmara, as he was so suspicious of me that I could leavethe country in that pretext. However, I have never written a singlearticle that lauds the government or the party itself; accidentally, Iended up being a sports reporter. In the meantime, I have never stoppedfrom looking a way out of the hellish life with full of agony, to savemyself before it was too late.
The escape
Imade four failed attempts to cross the border, three times to Ethiopiaand once to the Sudan. But I never gave up and succeeded with the fifthone. After six days of exhausting walk, I managed to get in to theSudan on the 17th of November 2007 via Sawa militarytraining camp, along two other colleagues. It was very risky and attimes life threatening journey. Had it not been for one Sudanese nomadto rescue our life, we could all have vanished without trace in thedeserts of eastern Sudan. The nomad named Mr. Hamid told us that justtwo week before our arrival, they had buried the body of two youngWarsay Ykealo school students, who were presumably died as a result ofwater thirsty. Our fate could have not been different either, but wewere so lucky to escape from that imminent danger.
Oncewe reached Sudan no one of us ever expected to face with such kind ofagonising danger, but the nomad, who was in his mid eighties became ourhero. He had to walk along with his two camels with us, in an effort tosave our life. He was on foot while three of us turn by turn had toride on the back of the camel. And it took us three days to reach avillage called Girgir, 20km north from the city of Kessela. With allthe difficulties of Arabic language I had at that time, but one of Mr.Hamids breathtaking expression was something that I hardly forget ‘’Esaias ke’ab’’ meaning Esaias is a trouble maker. He also asked ‘’whathave the Eritrean people done to deserve all these misery.’’ Frankly Inever expected those sympathetic words to come out from such an oldnomad who happens to witness the tragedy and suffering of Eritreansfirst hand on a daily bases.
Inthe town of Girgir, we were very well received by the local people, whohanded us later to a plain clothed Sudanese security personal. Aftermaking the mandatory search on our body they found nothing, except fourhundred US dollars. But, luckily they just took one hundred andreturned us back the remaining. They gave us peanuts (they call itfuul) a stable food in the Sudan, and we ate like crazy as our bellywas empty enough to receive any thing. During our journey we were onlyeating some biscuits with muddy water. Later in the evening, theyloaded us on a lorry’s back, which was full of charcoal. Being on thetop of the charcoal, every one of us had to make sure not to fall downbefore we reached to our dream town Kessela.
Whenwe reached in the check point to enter Kessela, we met with two newlyarrived asylum seekers and we were taken together to the securityprison in the heart of the city. Kessela is a city where most of theEritrean asylum seekers first end up before they get transferred to thenearby refugee camp. To be frank, it was a city quite less than ourexpectation in its modernity. The streets were rugged in many parts andthe buildings mostly half completed and simply not as attractive asthose in most Eritrean towns, let alone in the capital Asmara. However,it is a vibrant city, the number of cars and motor cycles in this cityalone could surpass the total in Eritrea.
In thesecurity prison we saw two girls presumably Eritrean asylum seekers,but later that night they disappeared from our sight. And we also mettwo members of a national service, Beyen and Mulugeta, who had anincredible story of prison break operation. Both of them were thrown inKeru’s temporary prison in suspicion of leaving the country illegally.Among other three prison mates who were held on similar charges, theywere to be transferred to the bitter prison called Hadish Measker by alorry. Two well armed soldiers were on guard one in front and the otherat the back of the lorry. While in their cell, they all had agreed toescape in the middle of the way to Hadish Measker by dispossessingtheir guard’s guns. Beyen and Mulugheta were very instrumental in thatsuccessful operation and as far as their knowledge was concerned, theircolleagues were most likely caught afterwards. No one knows for surewhere they are, or simply whether they are still alive or dead, becausein Eritrea in many cases escapees are subject to capital punishment bytheir captors.
In the detention centre, we wereinterrogated by the security officers, some of whom were Eritreansworking with the government of Sudan, as they spoke fluent Tigrigna.They promised to transfer us to the Wedisherifay refugee camp on thenext day for further assessment on our asylum case via the UNHCR. Theyasked us to give them money to bring us our dinner and the next morningthey needed additional money for the diesel of the car that is going totake us to the refugee camp, and we gave them more money than theyasked. While in Eritrea we had heard similar stories, so we were notsurprised with their manner of endless money requests. One day a friendof mine, who earlier arrived in the Sudan joked in one of our onlinechat ‘’if you have money in the Sudan, you have everything, even if youkill the president you can set yourself free from prison.’’
However,they directly took us to the Immigration Department instead of therefugee camp. To our surprise, they began to guard us seriously justlike criminals. We waited in the cell of the immigration van for eightlong hours without having any idea of our fate or destiny. There wascommunication barrier, we could not ask them as all of us were Arabicnon-speakers, and neither could they speak English as well. We couldonly read the seriousness of the situation in the nervous face of theimmigration officials, who seem unhappy with our presence in theirsoil. We were hungry and angry; finally we began to complain with theirmanner of treatment. At four o’clock in the afternoon, two persons cameand loaded us in a single land cruiser just like commodities. Theylater told us that they were officials working with the UNHCR and theywere going to help us to get asylum in the Sudan. To our relief,finally we reached Wedisherifay refugee camp, after half an hour ofdrive from Kessela towards the border with Eritrea. The location of thecamp is awkward for many of the asylum seekers, as you can see Eritreanhills just across a couple of miles away. I remember most of therefugees were having a sleepless night, fearing from the possibleabduction by Eritrean security agents, who are believed to frequentlyvisit the camp.
Once we reached Wedisherifay,many of the refugees came to hug and shake us, who seem surprised withour coming. Everyone was congratulating us, as if we were Olympic goldmedal winners. But, as I learnt later they had a good reason to do so,as we were the first group to arrive in the refugee camp for almost amonth. At that time the government of Sudan was simply returning backhundreds of Eritrean asylum seekers to the ruthless dictatorial regimein Asmara. Some of the returnees were my colleagues in the Universityof Asmara, who were serving in Sawa as teachers. Later I had come tolearn that, had it not been for the intervention of UNHCR officials torescue our life, our fate could have not been different. So, I shouldsay lack was still on our side.
Wedisherifayrefugee camp was mainly established to house, those who fled from thefighting during Eritrea’s war for independence (1961-1991). Most of therefugees refused UNHCR voluntary repatriation program during the latenineties to Eritrea, hence as durable solution to their problem theUNHCR was trying to resettle some of them in the western countries, butas most of the refugees already lived in protracted camp for three orfour decades, they complain with the slow pace of progress in theirprocess of relocation.
As of 2004 the UNHCRopened a new reception centre in the camp in order to assess theincreasing number of new asylum seekers from Eritrea, who have escapedopposing endless slavery in the name of national service, religiouspersecution and ethnic oppression etc. As there is no constitution inEritrea, there is no rule of law and this is resulted in gross humanrights violation. During our arrival there were more than threethousand new Eritrean asylum seekers waiting for interview.
Wewere given priority in the assessment of our case, as the immigrationofficials have given only three days to the UNHCR for our refugeestatus to be determined, if we were to fail to be genuine asylumseekers, we would have certainly been deported back then. While theprocessing time for asylum normally takes up to two months, we finishedin less than one week’s time. They transferred us to our finaldestination camp kilo 26, which is located almost 100km inside Sudan.Even though security wise this camp is much safer than Wedisherifay,but none of the refugees stay for more than a couple of days here, theydirectly opt to go to Khartoum through the help of smugglers, who findthis job a very lucrative business.
I alongwith my three colleagues have met with a smuggler, who later assistedus to get into Khartoum illegally. Forty two people were placed in onelorry in a very overcrowded manner; we were so tightly squeezed intothe lorry that, at times, we find ourselves on top of one another. Wewere totally covered with plastic in order to pretend the lorry wasloaded with some materials. It was a tormenting journey that I barelywould like to recall; we were treated like animals by the smugglers.The moment we reached Khartoum, I fell sick for a couple of days as aresult of the horrible journey that lasted for two days.
LaterI began to explore the taste of being in Khartoum, I felt as free asthe bird for the first time in more than seven years. I loved to gofrom one street to another without any fear of a soldier asking me fora permit paper. I loved being myself, which I have never been inEritrea. Above all I loved seeing most Sudanese reading morningnewspaper everywhere, and I learnt that there are more than fortyprivate newspapers in the country. For someone like me, who came from acountry mini-north Korea in East Africa, I felt honoured to be amongthem to share their freedom. For this reason, I enthusiasticallyapplied to work in Khartoum Monitor, a prominent English languagenewspaper. I worked as a freelancer for several months with a pen name,for I had to keep my profile very law. And later I ventured to publishmy own newspaper in my local language called Shewit,which is the first of its kind to be published in the Sudan. Later, asit gained popularity among the urban refugees, I began to face a numberof threats from Eritrean government agents. Ultimately I decided toterminate it, as I didn’t had any security guarantee from thegovernment of Sudan. And in April 2009, I received the prestigiousHellman/Hammett award for human rights defenders in recognition of mycontributions for the freedom of speech and the suffering I wentthrough.
Khartoum is booming with massiveforeign investment, the economic activity is incredible for someone whocame from a capital city run by a failed government. And I marvelled atits size of nine million people, which is twice the number of the wholepopulation of my country with 4 million.
Sudanis a transit place for most of Eritrean refugees, for further illegalmigration to Libya or Egypt. I was tempted to go to Libya or Egypt butrefrained later fearing potential deportation, as both countries usedto extradite Eritrean asylum seekers to the dictatorial regime inAsmara. Hence, I decided to ask protection in the Sudan so as the UNHCRto assist me in resettling to any third country as the only viableoption. However, I found this option very difficult and unsustainableas I had to undergo a number of complicated procedures just to secure aconvention refugee status. The process was at times frustrating, as ittakes extremely long time for the UN to intervene for possiblesolutions. Finally I have learnt how to be patient even though it waspsychologically very hurting, as I was constantly living in fear ofpossible abduction.
My Acknowledgments
Butthroughout my stay in Khartoum I was never alone; I was fortunate tohave the privileged support of dedicated individuals and Human RightsOrganizations from Toronto to Paris, from New York to London and FromWashington to Doha. With their continuous support they made me feelproud for being a journalist more than ever before.
Indeed,I have no word of thanks To Elisabeth Chirum, Head of Eritrean HumanRights Concern, whose support was like glucose to my blood. From thevery moment I met her, she was treating me just like a mother; with aregular contact to know my whereabouts. Moreover, I was fascinated byher energy and dedication to the cause of Eritrean people’s suffering,in which I should dare to call her, as an icon of hope for manyEritrean refugees. Above all she has inspired me with her restlessefforts and commitment in making Eritrea free from oppression andinjustice. Indeed, she is one of our post independence heroes.
Ialso have to thank Prisca Orsonau, head of refugee’s desk at theReporters Without Borders (RSF). She is exceptionally brilliant andvery supportive woman. She had to exchange emails with me sometimes ona daily bases in an effort to address the major challenges I wasfacing. At the darkest moments of my life she was sharing all my painsfrom thousands of miles away. I am really proud to have her support;without her my life could have gone horribly wrong.
ElisabethWichel, head of the journalist’s assistance program of the Committee toprotect journalists (CPJ) and her assistant Karen Philips were alsoextremely supportive as they were rendering me their badly neededassistance. Their continuous follow up and advices made me stay strongas a refugee.
I should also thank Aaron Berhanemy former boss, now Editor in Chief of Meftih newspaper in Canada, fromthe bottom of my heart. He has showed me the light at the end of thetunnel, not only when I become a refugee, but since I was in the bellyof the regime six years back. Over the last years of his exile, he hasproved to me that he is a friend in need. Above all he has shaped mylife as a journalist in many ways and I am very grateful for all hissupport.
I would also like to extend my thanksto Lidia Tabtab from the Doha Center for media freedom, to MarciaAllina from the Human Rights Watch (New York) and to Carol Sparks fromthe UNHCR Khartoum. Of course I can’t name them all but I would like tothank everyone for standing beside me in the most challenging period ofmy life.
Now I am in Norway, enjoying freedomthat I badly missed at home over the past nine years, and it is aplace, where I hardly imagined finding myself as a refugee, but I amhere starting a new life with dignity that I barely get in my country.Even though I am far away from home, the imprisonment of my colleagues,the continuous cycle of suffering of our people inside and in therefugee camps is constantly resonating in my mind, to break my absoluteecstasy, but, my pen is still my weapon.
