Tangled In A Web of Lies

Oppressions Against Refugees in South Africa

By Rachel Doe

Written by Kayla Byrd kayla@weavetales.org
Edited by Seyeon Hwang
Illustrated by Gina Nguyen

Photo by Molly Belle on Unsplash

Rachel Doe (pseudonym) is an asylum-seeker currently based in South Africa. Through this article, she wants to tell her story of displacement and let the world know what it is actually like to be a refugee in South Africa.

I was born in Burundi in 1987.

Unlike most children, I did not get to enjoy my childhood. While most children enjoyed playing and going to school, I wasn’t endowed with such privileges. As a Tutsi, I was targeted by my own government just for my ethnicity.

In 1993, the president of Burundi, Melchior Ndadaye, was killed by the Tutsis. He had created a government that benefited the Hutus after years of ethnic conflict between the two groupsas 300,000 Tutsis were killed to avenge his death.

A year later, one of President Ndadaye’s successors, President Ntaryamira, was shot down while traveling in his plane. Though he had passed from this incident, chaos had been born. Following his death, a genocide began and took the lives of 800,000 innocent Tutsis. I was no longer safe in my own country.

As I was being hunted down by the government, I hid inside my house and prayed for safety.

One day, when I was only six years old, I remember hiding quietly in my house, when I heard a familiar voice outside.

“You need to leave.”

A good friend of my father’s had informed us of the impending dangers we would face if we were to stay in the country. I had always trusted him, and even referred to him as my uncle. My parents refused to leave but decided it was too dangerous for me to live in Burundi any longer. They allowed him to take me to Tanzania so I could start a new life.

I was taken away from the only family I had. My mother, father, and brother stayed in the war-torn country, with a doomed fate. It was the last time I would ever see them again.

I was young but I knew that I needed safety.

Life in Tanzania

After leaving Burundi, I lived in Tanzania for 22 years and tried to make the most of my new country. However, I suffered greatly from loneliness and hardship. It was not easy growing up without any family or friends to lean on.

Not long after our arrival, my uncle left me alone in the country to marry a young woman he had met. They moved out of the country and left me without a single person I could rely on.

I was young, scared, and truly alone.

As I tried to navigate growing up in a foreign country with no family or friends, I was taken advantage of by many of the men in the country. I was forced into circumcision, as well as raped numerous times.

It was the darkest time of my life. I thought things would never get better.

After some time, I met a nice man in Tanzania and together we welcomed two beautiful children into the world. Rumors had it that some refugees like myself were being chased after. Soon, I learned that some members of the government in Burundi were coming after me after finding out about my escape to Tanzania. By staying In Tanzania, I would risk not only endangering my own life but also the lives of my husband and children. My husband and I both agreed that Tanzania was not suitable for any of us. We didn’t want our children to grow up the same way that we had — in fear.

One of the few friends I had in Tanzania suggested that I should leave and move to South Africa. He insisted that things were far better for refugees in South Africa than any country in Africa. The prospect of leaving for another country with children after two decades worried me.

But I took a moment and thought about how few things were tying me to this place: I had no family, no safety, and no security.

This made it easier for me to realize that it was time for my family and I to move forward.

In March of 2015, my friend arranged for a truck driver to provide passage for me and my family. As well as paying the truck driver, he also provided food to last us for the journey over. I am so grateful to have met someone so kind in a country filled with my darkest memories.

As the truck left, I sat quietly in the back and let out a sigh of relief. I huddled next to my husband and tried to relax. My two children rested their heads in my lap as the sight of Tanzania grew further away in the distance. Though I was scared to move to a new country, I was happy to leave behind the painful memories of my past.

A small glimmer of hope filled my heart and for a brief moment, all was well.

However, this feeling did not last for long; I was in for a rude awakening.

Hope Betrayed

When my family and I arrived in Pretoria, South Africa, we came to a small township called Mabopane. Immediately, we were shocked by the treatment of refugees. From an outsider’s perspective, I had heard of how well refugees were treated within the country.

When in reality, it was the exact opposite of that.

My family and I slept outside the refugee camp for two months, waiting for the government to provide us with the aid that we needed. We were four of the 700 bodies that laid outside the camp as a sign of protest.

But when the government finally stepped in, it was anything but pleasant.

A refugee proudly protesting against the corrupt practices of the government officials in South Africa. Photo Credit: Rachel Doe

My husband was taken away by the police and I wasn’t allowed to know where they had kept him detained. I was taken prisoner by the government and my kids were ripped out of arms. I can still feel my youngest son’s fingertips slip out of my hands. I had never been more scared in my life.

For eleven days, I didn’t know where my kids were.

I was locked inside of a prison, and was told very little about the whereabouts of my family. I was arrested simply for being a refugee in this country. I would have never come if these false promises had been replaced with the cold, hard truth.

While I was in prison, my treatment wasn’t much better. I was fed medicine that made my stomach hurt intensely. Every day seemed to drag out longer as my body ached with pain and sorrow.

After over a week in prison, I was reunited with my children. I still didn’t know where my husband was. I wasn’t even sure how I could find out.

I stayed in a friend’s house for a month before I had to go and find another place for my family to stay. We couldn’t sleep on the streets as we faced the possibility of being jailed, separated, or attacked. We were able to seek refuge at the church rather along with dozens of other families.

The church was oftentimes hot and crowded, but it was safe. It provided a sense of security that we had been longing for since we had come to South Africa. It also provided the answers I had been searching for in regards to my husband, who was still missing.

Another woman who slept at the church told me that her husband had been arrested as well. To make matters worse, I found out that I would have to pay 3,000 rands in order to make bail for him.

I couldn’t afford to pay this steep price, as any money I had went directly to taking care of my children. But soon, I realized that this wouldn’t be the first time the South African Government would try to extort refugees for money.

The Truth: Corrupted and Extorted

Every month I have lived in South Africa, I have had to renew my ID as an asylum seeker. Officials who issue our identification have tried to gain extra money by illegally offering us the opportunity to have our identification last six months instead of just one, for 10,000 rands ($605 USD). They refer to it as, “the nice papers.” I’ve seen many immigrants save every last coin they have in order to obtain such documents.

I have never been able to afford the “nice papers” as I can barely afford to feed my family. I’m unable to work most places, as they require certain identification. I have tried to hire a lawyer to help my family get out of this terrible situation, but the only advice he could offer us was to leave the country. He claimed we could not afford his legal fees.

He was not wrong.

We need to leave. We need to find a home where we aren’t treated so poorly, especially by those who claim to help.

Our decision to leave was based upon the fear that my life was in danger, but now all of my family is in danger. My children have been attacked in some of the places we have stayed. Other people staying in the house have scratched their faces and stuck pencils into my baby’s ears.

While my family has suffered greatly, we are not the only ones.

There are hundreds of other refugee families who are being horribly mistreated by South African government officials. We are entering the country under the pretense of hope and a better life, and are treated like criminals for it. I’m telling this story to bring light to a bleak situation.

Countries like Canada and the United States are being told that this country is very progressive, when it is all just a big lie.

Officials in South Africa have been lying about refugees, claiming that when we are detained it is because we are criminals. In actuality, we are just immigrants from other countries being detained against our will simply for trying to seek a better life in another country.

South Africa suffers greatly from one of the fastest increasing economic divides in the world. To make matters worse, refugees are powerless to stop it. We are often attacked and accused by the residents of the country of taking away opportunities from them. We just want to make our own way in the world and provide for our families as well.

At the end of 2019, the UNHCR received an increased amount of phone calls regarding the crises in South Africa. Businesses were being looted, homes were set on fire, sexual violence was on the rise, and the streets became rampant with gang activity. The increase of crime in the country made it too unsafe for refugees to leave the security of their homes or shelters. They weren’t guaranteed safety as they had no documentation. This lack of proper documentation leaves them vulnerable in regards to obtaining proper medical treatment or schooling.

The COVID-19 pandemic has made it even more difficult for refugees to lead a normal life. Many of us have reached out to the UNHCR through their helplines for immediate support in the face of eviction and malnutrition.

Yet, since then, nothing has changed. I am still on the run and my family continues to live in great danger.

The rest of the world needs to know the truth.

Everyone needs to know the horrors that my family and I have faced and the lies that we were told. We can’t keep letting more families migrate to South Africa only to endanger themselves. There has to be change. We demand it.

My family and I will be leaving again soon. We had tried to settle down in Johannesburg but have suffered unfair treatment once again. We hope to return to Pretoria and rebuild our lives in a new township.

I want my children to have proper education. I want to feel like I can go outside my house without being arrested. I want a better life, but this can’t be possible without change.

Disclaimer: The views, information, or opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of WeaveTales and its employees.

Want to tell your story?

For more information contact our editorial admin at contact@weavetales.org.

Previous
Previous

Keeping Faith

Next
Next

The Community Cup