Neto's Tucson by Ernesto Portillo Jr. : Somali Bantu refugee becomes US citizen, leads Tucson group

Never in the thousands of days he spent wondering if he would ever be free from the horror of refugee camps did Abdi think he would be in a U.S. courthouse, dressed in a dark suit and blue tie, taking his oath of citizenship.

But there he was, standing before U.S. Magistrate Jennifer C. Guerin, along with 59 other immigrants from 21 countries, pledging their allegiance to their adopted country.

Abdi, 27, may be Tucson's first Somali Bantu to become a naturalized citizen.

He was born in Somalia, where his family led a relatively fair life as farmers. His parents grew and sold fruit. He and his siblings split their time between his parents' home villages.

When he was a child, Somalia, on Africa's eastern horn, was in the throes of a civil war. Factions were vying for power, but in their path were the Bantu, a non-Somali ethnic minority whose roots are in modern-day Tanzania and Mozambique.

In Somalia, however, the Bantu were unwanted outsiders.

Abdi can remember seeing Somali militias sweeping into villages, taking by force food, money and valuables from his family and other Bantu families. He knew the militias also were killing Bantu men and raping women.

To avoid the violence, his father sent him, his mother and two siblings into Kenya. Abdi was about 8 years old.

But in the Kenya refugee camps, the Bantu were also unwanted.

In the camps, Abdi's mother struggled to find food and clothes. The Bantu were attacked if they left the camps. But they were also attacked in the camps, mainly during the night, Abdi said.

Abdi spent nearly 14 years in two refugee camps where there was never enough food or even firewood for cooking, he said.

"People had to accept life in the refugee camp," Abdi said. "We did not have any hope of getting out of the refugee camp."

Fortune eventually came to Abdi and his family. The U.S. government accepted their petition to come as refugees.

By 2000, the United States agreed to allow thousands of Bantu to immigrate. The government had declared the Bantu a persecuted minority.

On Aug. 7, 2003, Abdi arrived in Tucson. He was struck by a very Tucson thing that day: "I did not realize Tucson was so hot," he said.

What he did realize, however, was that adjusting to America would be difficult. While refugees in Tucson are given some assistance to resettle, they are left to their own moxie and wits to make the transition.

Abdi had a running start. He knew some English, which he had learned in the refugee-camp school run by volunteer teachers from England. In the camp, Abdi also worked as a translator and did other jobs for international aid groups.

Within days of his arrival, Abdi began working with Tucson's growing Somali Bantu community, which currently numbers about 800. He knew their needs and challenges, and he understood his English skills would be valuable.

Today, Abdi is executive director of the Somali Bantu Association of Tucson, Arizona Inc., funded by the federal government. Abdi, and the association's employees and volunteers, help Bantu refugees find apartments, jobs, schools for the children, English classes for adults and other services.

Abdi said the Bantu are working hard to make a good new life but some are struggling more than others. The difficulty will also be made worse as the failing economy wipes away entry-level jobs that the refugees depend on, he added.

"I am getting many calls asking what they can do," he said.

Still, Abdi is confident that Tucson's Bantu will succeed, because "they are using their hands."

"We have a saying, 'A finger does not clean the face. It takes both hands. A finger is only good to wipe away tears,' " he said.

Abdi's naturalization is more than becoming a citizen. He hopes to inspire other Bantu to follow.

This is what he tells his fellow Bantu: Citizenship will open up opportunities and offer hope. It will also provide the right to vote and offer other civil and political rights.

Abdi said he is following the footsteps of millions of Americans who came before him. America is the land of foreigners and immigrants, he said.

"Citizenship gives us a voice," said Abdi.

Neto's Tucson

Ernesto

Portillo jr.