Hiiraan Online

Saturday, April 14, 2007

KARIN VON VOIGTLANDER staff photographer Members of the Abukar family of Rochester, from left, Hamza, 9, parents Khadija and Isse, and Abdullahi, 11, and Aisha, 5.

"The electricity has been cut off," says Barbara Brody, who leads the association along with Isse Abukar.

Funds are always short at the association, she explains, and needs are always great.

However, Brody, a retired social worker who lives in Brighton, and Abukar, a refugee from Somalia who came to Rochester a little more than 10 years ago, do the best they can with the cards they've been dealt.

Most Somali refugees are unable to speak English when they arrive.

They face weather shock as they go through their first Rochester winter.

They have to cope with culture shock as they get used to the United States.

They have to weave their way through a maze of social services agencies. And, if they have children, they have to deal with the education system.

"One of the problems is getting the systems to work, to talk to each other," Brody says.

Abukar, 46, grew up in Mogadishu, the capital of Somalia.

As a teenager who was skilled in languages, he was sent into the country-side to teach the Somali Bantu, mostly farmers.

Later he married, and he and his wife, Khadija, started a family.

In 1992, fighting was fierce in Mogadishu, and the couple's 6-month-old son, Ayub, was shot and killed.

The Abukars decided to flee Somalia for Kenya, going separately for safety's sake.

In 1993, Isse reunited with Khadija and their infant daughter, Rifqa, in a refugee camp.

Two other children, Mohamed and Abdullahi, were born while they were in the camp.

The family came here in 1996.

"Life was difficult," Abukar says of his early time here. "I was an accountant back in Somalia, but I couldn't get an accountant's job here."

He did find work as a translator at the Catholic Family Center.

Later, he studied at Monroe Community College and worked as a downtown Rochester guide.

He now is a senior teller at the Genesee Co-Op Federal Credit Union on Gregory Street. Khadija works as a translator at the Westside Health Center.

The Abukars, who own their own home in the city, have six children. Rifqa is now 16, Mohamed is 12 and Abdullahi, 11. Hamza, 9, Halima, 8, and Aisha, 5, were born in Rochester.

Isse was an elder in the refugee camp — one of the people who helped settle disputes and solve problems.

He is a kind of elder here, too, in part because he seems to know all of the 100 or so Somali families here. He also knows how to get things done and is enormously generous with his time.

If people need help with the county's Department of Social Services, they call Abukar. If they don't understand Medicaid forms, they call Abukar. If they are having trouble figuring out City School District letters, they call Abukar.

But Abukar was getting worn out with all the calls, all the helping.

"He says, 'I can't go to everyone's house,'" remembers Brody, who met Abukar at the bank.

Consequently, they formed the Somali Bantu Association so people could come to a fixed place at a certain time with their problems.

The association is working, but it could function much better, say both Brody and Abukar.

Volunteers are needed; a computer would help.

Money, too, would be good.

The electricity is still off at the association headquarters; the phone bill needs to be paid.

The landlord has been extremely patient, Abukar says, but the rent is overdue, as well.

Still, Abukar has hope, and he knows he will continue to help his fellow Somali.

"These people are new to the country," he says. "They need a lot."

Source: Democrat & Chronicle, April 14, 2007