Seeking Employment for Refugees in Djibouti
An Unexpected Form of Protest
It was in 1984 and many of the over 40,000 Ethiopian refugees in Djibouti had been repatriated to Ethiopia following the usual tripartite agreement between Ethiopia, Djibouti and the United Nations Refugee Agency (UNHCR). However, a residual caseload still remained and were hosted in the Ali Sabieh and Dikhil camps, with the remainder living in the urban areas, especially the slum suburb of Balbala.
I was a mission to Djibouti to seek opportunities for the self-reliance for the remaining refugees.
Local integration of large numbers of refugees is difficult in a country of scarce resources, such as Djibouti. My travel to the interior to visit Dikhil and Ali-Sabieh camps revealed the limited possibilities for self-reliance activities. As I traveled to these camps the view from the window of my land cruiser illustrated the challenge of coming up with recommendations for self-reliance activities.
We drove through kilometers of just sand and rocks interspersed with acacias trees. Once in a while, we would pass by a camel devouring whatever vegetation was in sight. There were also some goats, whose actions surprised us. For example, we saw a goat climbing an acacias tree. Another was chewing away at a cardboard box.
What could one recommend in such a situation?
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I thought of handicrafts for which a number of refugees had talents, but without arrangements for export, how big would the market be to sustain the producers. I thought of agriculture, but the soil did not look rich enough for any large scale agriculture and water was a scarce commodity. There needed to be some development projects that would provide employment for the refugees and the locals, but this was not immediately in sight as it was the time UNHCR was starting to discuss with development agencies to promote the concept of “refugee aid and development”.
Well, I thought, I would have to explore the possibilities for market gardening and handicraft production, but I would need of the limits of these activities.
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Getting back to Djibouti Ville, I had to seek opportunities for urban refugees. I had been told that many of them, before they became refugees, had been involved in the informal sector, in trading and artisanal activities, so I decided to interview them individually to see how UNHCR could assist them to resume such activities in Djibouti.
The office in Djibouti Ville informed these refugees that they were to present themselves at the office the next day for these interviews. It was a small office, and because I insisted on having a quiet place where I could interview the refugees in private, they proposed an out-house attached to the main office building.
On the appointed day, the refugees turned up in large numbers and I started the interviews. They informed me of their backgrounds and told me what help they needed to establish themselves in Djibouti. They were mostly traders, who were asking for capital to set up their businesses.
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I thought that I was making good progress, until one refugee came in. He introduced himself as Ahmed.
“Yes Ahmed,” I said, “How can we help you to establish yourself in Djibouti?
Silence, as he looked up to the ceiling. I looked at his face and he had tears in his eyes.
“Don’t worry”, I ventured to say. “I am here to help you.”
After another bout of silence, I was becoming impatient as there was a long queue of persons waiting to be interviewed.
Then he broke his silence. “I do not want to settle here in Djibouti”, he blurted out. “I need to be resettled in France or USA.”
While I sympathized with him, although I knew that some of the refugees in Djibouti had indeed been resettled, I was also aware that there were limited opportunities for resettlement and that he did not quite meet the criteria for eligibility, so I tried to explain to him that, while waiting for such an opportunity, he might wish to take advantage of what I wanted to offer.
Again silence.
Then he took off his jacket. “Well”, I thought, “he must be hot”. This was not surprising, as he seemed overdressed in the sweltering heat.
But he continued. He started stripping. One by one he removed his clothes, as I watched in perplexity. When he got to his underpants, I thought it would stop there, so when he proceeded to remove them, I got really scared and I yelled. My yelling got the whole office rushing to the scene. The sight was ugly. He was protesting stark naked as he repeated “I do not want to stay in Djibouti”. Two men got his clothes and there was a fight as they tried to get them back on him.
After that, he was ushered away screaming and yelling.
I was later told that in his culture this, was the ultimate form of protest, but how was I to know?
