Life as a teenage asylum seeker without family can be lonely, but a bigger fear is getting a deportation letter. Carl O'Brien reports
In the middle of the night, Armel Ntwari would lie awake in his hostel bed, haunted by uncertainty, as question after question swirled around his head. How would he communicate with people here? How would he get by? What about the new school? What reaction would he get from Irish kids? Would he get to sit exams here? How were the remainder of his family back home? Would he be deported? Where would he be this time next year?
Armel had just turned 17. He had travelled from Burundi, one of the poorest countries in the world, to seek asylum in Ireland. He arrived without family or friends. All he had were his clothes, identity papers, and barely enough broken English to make himself understood.
"I did an awful lot of thinking," says Armel who, two years later, is studying for his Leaving Cert. "Most of the time I'd think what my life in this country was going to be like . . . If I would get my status. I tried not to think of home, and to look forward. I just wanted to get along with people, adapt to the culture."
The hundreds of unaccompanied minors who arrive here on their own without family or friends face a similar sense of loneliness and uncertainty. For many, the decision to seek asylum here is not their own - it's decided by parents, extended family members, or business or political associates of their parents.
While about half of those who arrive here are reunited with family members, the remainder - 174 last year, 225 in 2003 - end up on their own and in the care of health authorities.
Unlike Irish children in care, most unaccompanied minors live in a largely adult world, dealing with an adversarial asylum system geared towards grown-ups, and living in private hostels rather than residential children's homes. While they're allocated to the care of a social worker and project worker, such State professionals are in short supply and confined to office hours. This leaves children and teenagers in the care of private hostel staff.
The loose arrangements are particularly serious because of the vulnerabilities of these teenagers, according to Dr Pauline Conroy, the co-author of a report commissioned by the Health Service Executive into the care needs of unaccompanied minors. The report, finalised last month, found that persistent underfunding of the service and staff recruitment ceilings deprived health authorities of the means of putting in place ongoing care plans for unaccompanied minors.
"These teens need to have someone to come home to a night, like any child - a qualified person who knows them well and is there in a professional capacity," says Dr Conroy. "Yet these children are living in hostels without childcare workers. That's wrong. There has to be equal treatment."
The lack of supervision has also given rise to concern about the alarming number of children who have disappeared from care. At least 250 children have gone missing in the last four years, which has prompted a number of changes in the way children are cared for.
The HSE, to its credit, has been open about the shortcomings in care. It says it has made a number of changes aimed at improving care standards. The practice of putting teenagers in self-catering accommodation has stopped, and under-16s are placed in separate hostels to older teens. The HSE is also liaising with GPs to improve awareness and access to health services among minors, and it has also submitted a proposal to the Department of Health to develop services for all unaccompanied minors to national standards for residential services for Irish children in care.
WHILE THERE ARE concerns over the standards of care, unaccompanied minors have demonstrated an ability to integrate and settle into Irish life. "They are remarkable," says Mary King, who helped establish the Dún Laoghaire Refugee Project, whose volunteers provide support and advice to minors. "They've adapted and integrated, which is indicative of their excellent coping skills, ability to become part of a new society and willingness to contribute to this country."
Many are attending local secondary schools and, despite language and cultural barriers, many have gone on to successfully complete the Leaving Cert.
In the absence of family members, many minors have developed close friendships and provide support for one another. "We're like a family," says Armel. "We get on well together. The reason is that maybe we have experienced the same thing in our countries. Many of us would also share the same cultural or moral values."
While they support themselves, young people in care say they often feel isolated, with little access to activities or life outside the hostel.
"Europe is a very consumer-driven society, everything costs money," says Armel. "If an Irish person asks you out to go to a cinema, to share a pint or go to a birthday, there is money involved. We get €19 a week, so it's really difficult to make friends or to go out."
However, the over-riding fear among young people seeking asylum is of receiving a deportation letter. "For many of them the weekend is the only time they can relax a bit," says Mary King. "It's the only time of the week there's no post, so there's no fear of an envelope arriving."
THE UNIQUE POSITION of unaccompanied minors has given rise to a campaign to allow those who have spent several years here leave to remain.
The Dún Laoghaire group, along with a cross-party collection of TDs, is backing the Plus (Please Let Us Stay) campaign, which is aimed at "aged-out" minors - those who have turned 18. The number of aged-out minors currently in direct provision in Ireland is approximately 150. There are others living independently, or outside the system.
"This is not a large number of people. The Government is actively seeking additional workers to come to Ireland to make up the shortfall in available labour. These aged-out minors have been educated here, speak English, and are eager to work and make a lasting contribution to Irish society," says King.
Armel is one of them. In the two years since he arrived his English has developed extremely well, and he's studying hard for his Leaving Cert. Despite the uncertainty, he's full of aspirations for the future.
"I would really like to go to college and a computer science course, and get a job and a place of my own. I've made a lot of friends around Europe and maybe I could travel. I'd like to do that."