Vibrant Africans overcome the threat of racism

DIFFERENT VOICES/AFRICANS: Dublin's growing African community has brought derelict streets back to life, writes Paul Cullen , …

DIFFERENT VOICES/AFRICANS: Dublin's growing African community has brought derelict streets back to life, writes Paul Cullen, Development Correspondent

The African community in Ireland has come a long way in a very short time. In size, it has gone from a few hundred to about 30,000 in the space of a decade.

Meanwhile, derelict inner city streets have gained new life with the arrival of Nigerian businesses. Back lanes are the homes of flourishing evangelical churches. New publications have sprung up to serve the community.

Yet the community lives with constant uncertainty. The Government makes no secret of its desire to deport many Africans whose applications for asylum have been rejected. Even those with refugee status are struggling to find work and affordable housing in Celtic Tiger Ireland. Unlike eastern Europeans, black-skinned immigrants have nowhere to hide in the face of racist behaviour.

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At the same time, the community must wrestle with other demons. The negative image of Nigerians is due, at least in part, to the involvement of some members of that community in crime, particularly credit-card fraud and child-trafficking. There is little integration with Irish communities and undoubted tensions in some working-class areas.

Most of all, though, the vibrancy and bustle of African life here stands out in contrast to many areas of life. While the Catholic Church goes into decline with Irish people, African immigrants are flocking to small house churches, most of them affiliates of churches in Nigeria.

"If there is no church, our people will become a problem with the nation and fall back into bad habits. Our mission is to create the fear of God in their hearts so they do not misbehave," says Pastor Toyin Adewumi of the Christ Apostolic Church, based in Rutland Place off Dublin's Parnell Square. The church claims attendances of more than 20,000 to services in Nigeria, but in Dublin it attracts congregations of about 100 each week to a converted garage.

Most are from Nigeria, but Ghanaians, Togolese and even a few Irish come too. Pastor Adewumi, who transferred from Athens two years ago, conducts meetings in the back of his car outside while the building is renovated. The rent is €2,500 a month.

More than 70 African churches are estimated to have opened in Dublin and other cities in recent years. Pastor Adewumi estimates that about 30 to 40 per cent of Africans attend church, and while he encourages his flock to "fish the unchurched", poaching from rival operations is forbidden.

The same energy is visible in business, where Nigerian entrepreneurs have established foodstores, hairdressers and restaurants to service the needs of their community. Areas such as Parnell Street have drawn considerable publicity for their diversity, but the fact is that the African outlets tend to occupy a parallel universe rather than being integrated. Unlike the typical Asian corner shop in England, the wider community doesn't generally use them.

In publishing, at least five newspapers and magazines have sprung up for the African community.

Metro Éireann is the best-known and has both African and Irish readers. All are packed with advertisements for churches, foodstores, "immigration consultants" and even photo-spreads of community celebrities; it seems only a matter of time before a Nigerian-Irish version of Hello! appears.

One constant for all Africans in Ireland is the threat and reality of racism. Black immigrants simply stand out more than other groups, and many Irish people aren't too fussy about their insults.

Black equals asylum-seekers, equals Nigerian, equals sponger - goes the most virulent form of racist thinking. For a while after September 11th, anyone resembling a Muslim - including women wearing African gowns - was fair game.

"What we generally get in Ireland is a very naïve and ignorant form of racism, rather than the organised or ideological forms you see in other countries," says Philip Watt, director of the National Consultative Committee on Racism and Interculturalism (NCCRI).

A typical problem arises when a gang of youths picks on an immigrant family in its neighbourhood, breaking their windows and harassing the children. When this happened recently on a housing estate in Tallaght, neighbours came to the aid of the beleaguered Congolese family, but Watt says combined action is needed from gardaí, residents groups and local authorities.

The NCCRI logged 81 racist incidents between May 2001 and last March, but Watt believes the real number is far greater. Relations between the black community and the gardaí have sometimes been difficult.

A number of Africans have accused the gardaí of heavy-handed treatment and racist abuse, though none of these claims has been sustained by a court. The gardaí and courts have shown their determination to deal with racist behaviour by Irish people in a number of recent cases, and the force's inter-cultural service is seen as progressive and hard-working.

However, the current round-up of illegal immigrants in Operation Hyphen is hardly likely to improve relations.

Sahr Yambasu, a Methodist minister and chairman of the Africa Solidarity Centre, believes the asylum process contains "inbuilt suspicions" against Africans. "It's true we contribute to it because some people make up stories and engage in unlawful activities, but the majority should not be judged by the behaviour of a few people who don't abide by the rules."

Meanwhile, many of those who have received refugee status or permission to remain are making slow progress. There are jobs aplenty, but good jobs are harder to come by.

"The vast majority are doing casual work, trying to make ends meet," says Yambasu. "The feeling is that to get a job you have to be two or three times better than the Irish person going for the same post."

Not all Africans are recent arrivals or asylum-seekers. "I'm not an asylum-seeker or refugee, but I often feel I'm being categorised as one. We are never spoken about," says Salome Mbugana, a Kenyan who first came to Ireland as a student in 1994 and is married to an Irish man.

"Before, you were either a doctor or engineer. Now they think everyone is a refugee," says Emmanuel Ntibimenya, a Rwandan who has lived here for 18 years. "The whole Irish approach to refugees is that they're scroungers, here to milk the system. They don't recognise that many people have been here for years."

As a taxi-driver working at night on Dublin's streets, Ntibimenya has encountered the worst aspects of Irish racism. "I get a lot of curiosity, and then they come out with 'I don't mind blacks here, but I hate Pakis' remarks, and I just wonder what they tell the next driver." For many African immigrants, however, the past few years has brought steady progress.

Four years ago, I interviewed Joseph and Carinie Ntidendereza, who had fled with their children from the civil war in Burundi.

At the time, their asylum application had been rejected and the authorities wanted to deport them. They were housed in health board accommodation in Blackrock, where local people they met through their children befriended them and took up their case.

A year or two later, the authorities had shifted the Ntidenderezas to hostel-type accommodation in a grim block on Dublin's quays. The room they inherited was filthy, and its fixtures were broken, but the couple quickly repainted and repaired their new surroundings.

Meanwhile, they remained in a legal limbo. Eventually, the birth of their fourth child in Ireland resolved their legal worries.

Today, Joseph and Carinie are typical slaves of the Celtic Tiger. He commutes daily from their house in Lucan to Dublin Airport, where he works with Aer Rianta. In his spare time, he coaches the local soccer team. She does part-time work at night in Superquinn. They have four children aged three to 13 years and a monthly rental bill of €1,200.

They have a small stake in Ireland and good reason for hope in the future.It's modest progress, but progress nonetheless.

"We're happy, but most of all we're safe. Other things can come after that," says Carinie.