Six Months

I have been in South Africa for almost two months now.  I have shared many of my adventures and experiences, but I have intentionally stayed away from talking about work.  Part of the reason is that it is taking me a little longer than usual to actually assess how I feel about the type of work I am doing.  Part of the reason is to take time to figure out exactly what it is that I am doing.  And part of it is getting myself to actually talk about some of the clients that I have met and the stories they tell.

The complex I work in is called the Diakonia Centre – a Greek word which means serving the people.  The local newspaper recently ran a story, part of which I would like to share with you:

“There was a time when anyone in Durban suffering as a result of the actions of the apartheid government would be told: ‘Go to Diakonia:  they will help you.’ And help would be found.  At about the same time, those who supported the apartheid government, or who belonged to organisations opposed to the United Democratic Front (UDF) or the African National Congress (ANC) (banned at the time) would describe Diakonia as a terrorist organisation.  Rumours went around that bombs were made at Diakonia in St. Andrew’s Street (now Diakonia Avenue).  Luckily for those who worked at Diakonia or who supported its cause, life was far too busy to worry about either of these extremes of opinion.  There was work to do, lots of it, and just had to get on and do it.”

Today the Diakonia Centre houses a number of NGOs, including Lawyers for Human Rights, the Legal Resource Centre, Refugee Social Services and the Black Sash – all organisations seeking to provide help to the most vulnerable members of society.

Lawyers for Human Rights (where I work) is an independent human rights organization that provides free legal services to marginalized individuals and groups within South Africa.   It was founded in 1979, when its primary focus was to fight oppression and human rights abuses during apartheid.  Currently LHR works in a number of different areas through its various programs including:  child rights, environmental rights, land reform and housing, statelessness, refugee and migrant rights, security of farm workers and strategic litigation. The Durban office works exclusively with refugees and asylum seekers who require legal assistance.  This is where I come in (or not).

Most of the clients who walk through our doors are people who have already applied for asylum at the Department of Home Affairs and who have already been rejected.  As such, the chances of them actually having a strong refugee claim is slim.  Every morning I walk out into our reception area to find the room full of people hoping and praying that someone can help them.  They may not be refugees in the true definition of the word, but they are definitely people who have had really difficult lives and are trying to secure a better future for themselves and their families.

Because of scarcity of resources, our mandate is to help only those clients, who have a strong claim.  We simply do not have the capacity or manpower to help everyone.  So my job is to bring clients into my office, one at a time, and with the help of an interpreter try to sort out their claim.  As I explained in an earlier post, the definition of a refugee in South Africa is really narrow and restrictive and as such very few people actually fit within its confines.  Most of the time I know as soon as I have read someone’s rejection why they do not qualify and will likely be deported.  Yet I do spend about 45 minutes with each client listening to his or her story and trying to find anything that may have previously been missed or ignored.  Most of the time I am aware that I am fighting a losing battle.  Though my client is coming from a country that is nowhere close to safe by any North American standard, for all intents and purposes in South Africa they will not be recognized as a refugee and be given asylum. 

It is often very disappointing and demoralizing for me to have to persistently turn people away who see me as their only hope.  Sherylle (my supervisor) says that we are doing them a favour by not getting their hopes up, because they will likely be sent home.  Even still, it is gradually becoming a more difficult issue for me to deal with.  For example, last week at yoga when we were supposed to be relaxing and meditating I could not shut my mind off.  I kept on thinking that at the end of these six months I will likely go back home to Canada, to my family and friends and to my happily ever after.  At the end of six months most of the people I meet with will likely be back to the same hellish place that they originally fled from.