Bittersweet.
That is how Abdullah Sarwari describes the moment he departed Indonesia for Canada.
“I was leaving all these memories, all these good people, and all these experiences behind, at a place that has given me so much… and at the same time taken away so much from me,” he says.
Spending years of his life in limbo as a refugee is something Abdullah is painfully familiar with.
“[But] instead of cursing the darkness, my older sister and I decided to light a candle, and become active members of our community,” he says.
When Our Better World (OBW) first told Refugee Learning Center’s (RLC's) story in June 2019, Abdullah was helming the initiative he co-founded in 2015 as its principal. Run by refugees, for refugees, RLC is an educational space providing free classes to refugee children and adults.
The centre became a lifeline not just for the community, but for Abdullah and his fellow volunteers. Stranded while awaiting resettlement, many fall into hopelessness and are vulnerable to mental health issues.
RLC’s classes are an empowering antidote to this helplessness, allowing students and volunteers to use their abilities in a meaningful way. They also prepare refugees for a fresh start in their resettlement countries.
For Abdullah, that dream has come true. Last November, he and his family resettled in Vancouver, Canada.
From braving the first chill of winter, to having his own bank account, the months since have been life-transforming. After a three-week stay at a welcome centre, Abdullah and his family have moved into their new home.
“Within two weeks, we have access to more facilities, resources and rights than we had in Indonesia,” Abdullah says.
In Indonesia, the baton has passed to new principal Sikandar Ali, who served as RLC’s IT manager since its beginnings.
“I hope that we will do our best for the future,” Sikandar says.
RLC now has over 300 students, ranging in age from six to 60 years old. Leading the charge for awareness and advocacy for a transitory community often forgotten, the centre has become a success story.
A school for refugees, by refugees
An unwelcome guest.
For much of his life, this was how Najib Akbari has felt, growing up in Iran as a refugee.
A child of Afghans who fled Afghanistan for Iran to escape political unrest and the Soviet Union invasion in 1979, Najib grew up a “second-class citizen” with no rights, and discrimination from Iranians, who did not want them in the country, was common.
“I lived there for about 35 years but I had no ID card, no rights as a citizen. We were only allowed to work jobs that were very hard and Iranians wouldn’t do them,” he says. “They thought that if we were living in Iran and working, we were stealing away their rights.”
Enduring the discrimination became second nature for Najib — but he baulked when his children were subjected to the same treatment.
“When I sent my son to school for the first time, one day he came home and was very sad and was crying. When I asked him what happened, he said that the principal kicked him and told him ‘Afghan, why don’t you go back to your country?’”
That was when Najib decided he and his family had to leave Iran.
Life in limbo
Najib and his family initially returned to Afghanistan, but with the country mired in conflict, they decided to leave, this time for Indonesia.
There are about 14,000 refugees and asylum seekers in Indonesia, and about half are of Afghan origin, according to UNHCR. Most hope to be resettled in a third country.
“When we first came here, we were in a bad situation. Because we were in a country about which we had no information. Its language was different, its culture and even its weather was different, and it was always rainy. We had moved away from friends and family,” says Najib.
“Especially for my wife who used to cry during the day. I was also in a tough position but I acted strong because there was no other choice.”
Refugees cannot work in Indonesia and there are limited options for refugee children to attend local schools. Stuck in a passive, uncertain situation, many lose hope.
Creating their own solutions
Determined to avoid such a fate, a group of refugees in Puncak took action. In 2015, they scraped together their resources to set up a school — the Refugee Learning Center.
“Our only goal and mission is to provide education, basic education, and prepare the refugee children for their future,” says Abdullah Sarwari, who was only 18 when he helped start RLC.
“We’re also trying to provide a normal life as much as possible for them. They come and they socialise, they have fun, they make friends, and they try to forget all the worry, and stress, and tension in their life.”
In the beginning, refugees pooled money to rent the space needed for the school, despite having little of their own. Then Same Skies, a non-governmental organisation, stepped in to support the refugees with training and financial support for six months.
Today, RLC runs on donations collected through online fundraising campaigns. From 35 students in the beginning, its volunteers — refugees dedicated to helping their community — now provide education to around 280 refugee children and adults.
Volunteers also come from outside the refugee community to teach at RLC, both in person or online from anywhere in the world. Some have also held workshops on painting, writing and photography for the refugees, while others organised medical and dental check-ups.
Take Action
Donate cash to RLC, so that they can continue to provide education and support to refugees.
Have chairs or computers in working order? Donate them so refugee kids can study
Keeping hopes alive
The reality of resettlement is grim: in Indonesia, only 556 of around 14,000 refugees were resettled in a third country in 2018, according to the UNHCR.
Keeping feelings of apathy and hopelessness at bay is a never-ending task for RLC’s teachers, even as they battle worries of their own.
In 2018, RLC started working with external volunteers to prepare some of the refugees to sit for GED (General Educational Development) tests, an internationally-recognised assessment framework. Those who pass the test will be certified to have high school-level academic skills, which can help them earn admission into university-level programmes globally.
Under the programme, which is a collaboration with an external partner, the refugees receive online mentoring from volunteers all over the world, who are familiar with the GED framework.
Since then, the refugees who passed the tests have started to help others in RLC prepare for the tests, paying forward the skills they have acquired to their community.
RLC has also started offering Bahasa Indonesia classes to the refugee community. “Between the refugee and local community, I feel like there’s a language barrier which stops the refugee from having an honest and open interaction with Indonesians,” says Abdullah.
“If you try your best to learn the language of a particular place or country, it really helps make things easier.”
Najib is among those who signed up for classes, although he admits progress has been slow. But language barrier aside, life has improved in some ways for him and his family.
“When we were in Iran, we had always seen those discriminatory eyes. What surprised me was that we always thought all the countries treat the Afghans the same way [Iranians did] but Indonesians are better,” he says.
He adds that he did not move to Indonesia for financial gain. “I only came here to go somewhere where I am treated like a human being and to be no different to other human beings,” he says.
As the finance manager at RLC, Najib has also found purpose in being part of the cause to support refugees as they adapt to life in limbo.
“Many people ask me why I put time here and work, and I tell them that it gives me joy and peace. If I can do it for my own children, I can do it for other children too,” he says.
The centre, he says, is an opportunity for refugees to show that they “are not a burden”. “If they have the opportunity they can accomplish big and great things like this,” says Najib.
What skills can we share with refugees to help them build resilience and take control of their lives? Tell us by leaving a comment!
After OBW told the story of RLC as part of its Refugee Series, offers to help streamed in with 276 volunteers signing up to teach or contribute their skills. It was the most the centre ever saw.
“We used to receive almost no volunteer sign-ups. But by the end of the [OBW] campaign we had more than 100 sign-ups,” Abdullah says.
“That was very surprising, and it made us feel amazing.”
The centre was also able to achieve their fundraising goal of US$6,600 and meet their crowdfunding target to fund one year of rent and expenses. Such donations help ensure the sustainability of RLC, which began operations with scarce resources the team scraped together — the centre did not even have a bell.
The duty of informing teachers that each class was over fell on Abdullah. A trivial responsibility to most, but a simple act that gave him newfound purpose.
Today, he’s proud to tell anyone that his maiden task at RLC was to be the school bell.
“Yes,” Abdullah laughs. “Not ring the bell, but be the bell.”
RINGING IN NEW CHAPTERS
Sikandar clearly remembers Abdullah’s ‘school bell’ days.
“We have an electric bell now,” he happily updates.
Like Abdullah, Sikandar is from the Afghan tribe of Hazara. Sharing a familiar story of persecution, he fled ethnic and religious conflict in Karachi, Pakistan, arriving in Indonesia six years ago. Separated from his family, in a foreign country without basic rights, he spent his first year alone and directionless.
“I faced many problems. I stayed at home all day without going outside,” he recalls.
A friend introduced Sikandar to Abdullah, who told him about the RLC and how he could contribute his knowledge and skills. Having completed IT and computer courses in Pakistan, Sikandar leapt at the chance to volunteer.
“I was doing nothing except eat and sleep. I wanted to do something active in the community,” he says.
Preparations for the new school year are underway, and Sikandar and his team are busy drawing up lesson plans and timetables.
Besides core classes like English and Bahasa Indonesia, and continuing the GED (General Education Development) Programme, the centre also started basic computer classes for children and youth. “Some don’t even know how to turn the laptop on,” Sikandar says.
Students are taught basic IT and word processing skills. Working off donated laptops, up to three students share one device. The course is showing good progress, with plans to expand into areas like programming and Internet safety — once there is volunteer support.
Carpentry workshops are also on the wishlist when funding permits. Students will gain skills while staying productive, making furniture for the classrooms.
The team is reviewing the volunteers who signed up after watching OBW’s story. They will reach out to those with skill sets RLC needs.
Faced with an uncertain future himself, Sikandar holds out hope of resettling in a country permanently. For now, his work at RLC keeps him going.
“I’m doing my best for the community, the children’s future. It makes me happy that I can do something for humanity,” he says.
“Maybe I cannot continue my studies, but [the children] will be [able] to continue their studies when they arrive in their second or third country. This is the one thing that motivates me.”
A BOLD WISH
For Abdullah, the tide has turned on a life marked with adversity — from UNHCR offering him a job as an interpreter, to TEDx inviting him to speak in Ubud, to his resettlement in Canada.
“It proved to me that if you want something, there’s nothing that’s impossible,” he says.
Despite being resettled thousands of miles away, Abdullah continues to play an advisory role at RLC. When asked about his hopes for the centre's future, Abdullah’s answer is bold and unexpected.
“It is my hope that there are no more refugees, and no more need of RLC or other refugee-led schools,” he says.
Meanwhile, he hopes RLC continues to provide free education to those who need it, for as long as possible.
“At the end of the day, our lives can be similar to yours,” Abdullah says.
“All we need is the chance, the opportunity, to prove who we are, and what we can do.”
A school for refugees, by refugees
An unwelcome guest.
For much of his life, this was how Najib Akbari has felt, growing up in Iran as a refugee.
A child of Afghans who fled Afghanistan for Iran to escape political unrest and the Soviet Union invasion in 1979, Najib grew up a “second-class citizen” with no rights, and discrimination from Iranians, who did not want them in the country, was common.
“I lived there for about 35 years but I had no ID card, no rights as a citizen. We were only allowed to work jobs that were very hard and Iranians wouldn’t do them,” he says. “They thought that if we were living in Iran and working, we were stealing away their rights.”
Enduring the discrimination became second nature for Najib — but he baulked when his children were subjected to the same treatment.
“When I sent my son to school for the first time, one day he came home and was very sad and was crying. When I asked him what happened, he said that the principal kicked him and told him ‘Afghan, why don’t you go back to your country?’”
That was when Najib decided he and his family had to leave Iran.
Life in limbo
Najib and his family initially returned to Afghanistan, but with the country mired in conflict, they decided to leave, this time for Indonesia.
There are about 14,000 refugees and asylum seekers in Indonesia, and about half are of Afghan origin, according to UNHCR. Most hope to be resettled in a third country.
“When we first came here, we were in a bad situation. Because we were in a country about which we had no information. Its language was different, its culture and even its weather was different, and it was always rainy. We had moved away from friends and family,” says Najib.
“Especially for my wife who used to cry during the day. I was also in a tough position but I acted strong because there was no other choice.”
Refugees cannot work in Indonesia and there are limited options for refugee children to attend local schools. Stuck in a passive, uncertain situation, many lose hope.
Creating their own solutions
Determined to avoid such a fate, a group of refugees in Puncak took action. In 2015, they scraped together their resources to set up a school — the Refugee Learning Center.
“Our only goal and mission is to provide education, basic education, and prepare the refugee children for their future,” says Abdullah Sarwari, who was only 18 when he helped start RLC.
“We’re also trying to provide a normal life as much as possible for them. They come and they socialise, they have fun, they make friends, and they try to forget all the worry, and stress, and tension in their life.”
In the beginning, refugees pooled money to rent the space needed for the school, despite having little of their own. Then Same Skies, a non-governmental organisation, stepped in to support the refugees with training and financial support for six months.
Today, RLC runs on donations collected through online fundraising campaigns. From 35 students in the beginning, its volunteers — refugees dedicated to helping their community — now provide education to around 280 refugee children and adults.
Volunteers also come from outside the refugee community to teach at RLC, both in person or online from anywhere in the world. Some have also held workshops on painting, writing and photography for the refugees, while others organised medical and dental check-ups.
Take Action
Donate cash to RLC, so that they can continue to provide education and support to refugees.
Have chairs or computers in working order? Donate them so refugee kids can study
Keeping hopes alive
The reality of resettlement is grim: in Indonesia, only 556 of around 14,000 refugees were resettled in a third country in 2018, according to the UNHCR.
Keeping feelings of apathy and hopelessness at bay is a never-ending task for RLC’s teachers, even as they battle worries of their own.
In 2018, RLC started working with external volunteers to prepare some of the refugees to sit for GED (General Educational Development) tests, an internationally-recognised assessment framework. Those who pass the test will be certified to have high school-level academic skills, which can help them earn admission into university-level programmes globally.
Under the programme, which is a collaboration with an external partner, the refugees receive online mentoring from volunteers all over the world, who are familiar with the GED framework.
Since then, the refugees who passed the tests have started to help others in RLC prepare for the tests, paying forward the skills they have acquired to their community.
RLC has also started offering Bahasa Indonesia classes to the refugee community. “Between the refugee and local community, I feel like there’s a language barrier which stops the refugee from having an honest and open interaction with Indonesians,” says Abdullah.
“If you try your best to learn the language of a particular place or country, it really helps make things easier.”
Najib is among those who signed up for classes, although he admits progress has been slow. But language barrier aside, life has improved in some ways for him and his family.
“When we were in Iran, we had always seen those discriminatory eyes. What surprised me was that we always thought all the countries treat the Afghans the same way [Iranians did] but Indonesians are better,” he says.
He adds that he did not move to Indonesia for financial gain. “I only came here to go somewhere where I am treated like a human being and to be no different to other human beings,” he says.
As the finance manager at RLC, Najib has also found purpose in being part of the cause to support refugees as they adapt to life in limbo.
“Many people ask me why I put time here and work, and I tell them that it gives me joy and peace. If I can do it for my own children, I can do it for other children too,” he says.
The centre, he says, is an opportunity for refugees to show that they “are not a burden”. “If they have the opportunity they can accomplish big and great things like this,” says Najib.
What skills can we share with refugees to help them build resilience and take control of their lives? Tell us by leaving a comment!
