Hundreds of Iranian Kurds in a desert refugee camp dream of selection for resettlement in Ireland, reports Mary Fitzgerald in Jordan
For Ibrahim Brezende and his family it's a rare day away from the stifling confines of the tent they call home. It begins with a drive through the basalt-flecked eastern Jordanian desert to the string of low-slung cinder-block buildings that make up the town of Ruwayshid, home to the offices of the UN Refugee Agency, UNHCR. It ends with a feeling that perhaps this year Ibrahim's seven children will know something other than life in a refugee camp.
The Brezendes are among hundreds of Iranian Kurds who have trooped through these airy UNHCR offices for interviews with officials from the Irish Department of Justice. Among those waiting their turn under the shade of a tree outside are families, couples and a handful of single people. Each person is hoping for the same thing - to be selected as one of the 200 refugees approved for resettlement in Ireland.
Ibrahim's eyes shine when he talks about what that would mean for him. "To live in Ireland, to see my children finally know what it is to live as a human being, that is something beyond a dream," he says.
The story of these refugees is one of instability and hardship. Some of these Iranian Kurds sought refuge in Iraq after Iran's Islamic revolution in 1979, others during the subsequent Iran-Iraq war.
For more than two decades, their home in Iraq was the al-Tash refugee camp, 150km west of Baghdad and close to the town of Ramadi in Al-Anbar province. Following the invasion of Iraq in 2003, many of the 12,000 Iranian Kurds living at the camp fled in fear of being caught up in fighting between insurgents and coalition forces.
Ibrahim Brezende and his family reached the Jordanian border and could go no further. Refused official status in Jordan, along with other refugees, they spent two years languishing in what became known as the No Man's Land camp, caught between the two countries in an inhospitable 1km-wide strip of land that belonged to neither.
There they waited, along with others who had fled Iraq including Palestinians, Somalis and Sudanese, until the makeshift border camp was closed last May and all refugees transferred to Ruwayshid camp, 60km inside the Jordanian border.
Driving from Ruwayshid town, the first sign of the camp is a line of tents on the scorched desert ridge, ringed by a wire fence. It's a desolate place, bitterly cold in winter and pummelled by hot, dry winds and blinding sandstorms in summer.
"These people have been living in such harsh conditions for three years. It leads to many health problems, particularly respiratory conditions," explains Karmen Sakhr, officer in charge of the UNHCR Ruwayshid field office. "The camp has been in existence for too long. We don't want people to live forever in confined camp conditions. It's a very difficult life."
Hence the urgency in getting the refugees resettled. For the Iranian Kurds, resettlement is their last resort. They are adamant about never returning to Iraq and, similarly, going back to Iran is not an option.
THE UNHCR HAS been relying on the goodwill of countries around the world to help those stranded in Ruwayshid. The agency has submitted hundreds of cases for permanent resettlement to such countries as Ireland, Sweden, the US, Australia, Canada and New Zealand.
Ireland is one of only six EU member states and 17 countries worldwide who take refugees from abroad under arrangements agreed with the UN agency. Since Ireland's first intake in 2000, refugees from 16 countries, including Liberia, Afghanistan, Somalia and Rwanda, have been resettled here.
Last June it was agreed that Ireland's annual refugee resettlement quota would increase from 40 to 200 people. Under the 2005 quota, 116 people were accepted by Ireland. Of those, a number of Iranian Kurds from the No Man's Land camp were resettled in Carrick-on-Shannon and Dublin.
"Without resettlement, they have no future, no hope. It really is their last resort," says John Haskins of the Reception and Integration Agency, which operates under the aegis of the Department of Justice. Along with members of the Garda and colleagues from the asylum policy division of the Department of Justice, Haskins interviews each family, couple or individual to assess their suitability for resettlement in Ireland. Their stories of displacement and despair are deeply moving, he says, as is their determination to have a better life.
"Their resilience in the face of what they have survived, their spirit, and their insistence that their children shall not live the same life is very impressive. They have a huge amount to offer in terms of their contribution to Irish society."
Ibrahim Brezende's eldest son, Azhwan, admits he knows little about Ireland, apart from snippets of information that have trickled back from those Iranian Kurds resettled in the country last year. "In Ireland there is democracy, law, freedom, work and good schools. We can live normal lives there. Life in the camp is like a jail. Like all my brothers and sisters, I was born in a camp and grew up in a camp. It is no life," he says.
Azhwan (20) speaks four languages - Kurdish, Farsi, Arabic and English - all honed in makeshift camp schools. "I want to be a dentist," he says, "and Zhian, my sister, wants to be a lawyer." Behind him, his 13-year-old brother Zagros pipes up: "I want to be a doctor."
Azhwan shakes his head. "What hope do we have of achieving these dreams if we stay here?" he asks.
FOR FAMILIES WITH special needs, such as that of Uthman and Fatima Taysha, life at the camp has been particularly difficult. Two of their six young children are blind. Eight-year-old Aisha carefully feels her way into the room towards her father. He listens proudly as she recites the alphabet in English.
"I've spent 27 years as a refugee going from Al Tash to here. I don't want that life for my children," Uthman says. "I'm a trained mechanic. I want to work hard to make a contribution in Ireland and also to look after my family, make sure they have a good education and a good life. It feels like this is my last chance."
After nine days of interviews, the Department of Justice team returns to the Republic to comb through the applications and carry out needs assessments before any final decision is made, a process that could take up to six months. The exact locations for resettlement have yet to be finalised but Haskins says he is encouraged by the success of previous programmes.
"We don't settle families in Dublin because we would prefer to see the refugees gradually building up their own small community," he says. "The local communities in places like Carrick-on-Shannon have been very supportive and co-operative in welcoming these people."
"Some of those we interviewed have a vague impression of what Ireland is like because their relatives have been resettled there," Haskins adds. "On the whole, however, it's not so much where they are going but the fact they are getting out of here. It's another chance at life."