Bridging Worlds: Insights From a Refugee Researcher
Based in Kakuma Refugee Camp, Franco Ohisa shares stories of his migration journey, his life as a refugee researcher and how research can be made less extractive.
By Franco Ohisa as told to the Samuel Hall team
I was only two years old when my family and I were forced to flee our village in South Sudan, leaving behind the life we knew.
Born in the small and picturesque village of Obira in 1992, my early memories are faint, as the circumstances of conflict and danger overshadowed them. Our escape was triggered by a horrifying incident where my stepbrothers, engaged in a violent confrontation, took a life. This resulted in the demand for a “daughter” from our family as retribution. Since my stepmother did not have a daughter, it would have been my elder sister who would have to be given away. Fearing for my sister’s safety, my mother made the brave decision to flee the village and subsequently the country, seeking refuge for herself and her children.
In South Sudan, mobility and displacement have been part of people’s lived experiences for generations. Samuel Hall’s research on Displacement, Return and Reintegration in South Sudan for Research and Evidence Facility shows that displacement patterns are entwined with conflict, complex household-level mobility strategies, as well as people’s misgivings and expectations about prospects for peace and political processes. Read the study here.
We left in the middle of the night under the cover of darkness with the assistance of a compassionate neighbour who provided us with a car. Our destination was Kapoeta, a town on the border of Kenya, where my mother sought solace and then we went to Lokichogio in northwest Kenya, where we sought temporary refuge for seven weeks while awaiting further assistance.
Eventually, we were transferred to the Kakuma Refugee Camp, where we underwent the registration process and were provided with essential resources such as ration cards, medicine, housing, and utensils. We started a new life in a new ‘home’ as refugees — which was soon burned down due to tribal politics in the camp in 1999. After several weeks and police interventions, our homes were restored, and life continued.
The Pursuit To Study
I started preschool in 1996. For my illiterate mother, the joy of seeing her children attend school was immeasurable.
Recognising the transformative power of education, she tirelessly encouraged us to pursue our studies. I embraced this opportunity wholeheartedly, and mathematics quickly became my favourite subject.
However, our education was far from conventional. Our classes were often conducted under trees, led by teachers who themselves were refugees and had experienced the horrors of war. When the rain poured, we were forced to disperse, seeking shelter wherever we could find it.
In 2008, I completed my KCPE (Kenya Certificate of Primary Education) and received a scholarship for higher education. However, the lack of funds to purchase books became a significant obstacle.
My mother, who earned a meagre income of 11000 KES a year. Through selling and brewing liquor, we could barely cover our basic needs, let alone save for educational expenses. I had to wait two years before obtaining another scholarship, which allowed me to enrol at the University of Jomo Kenyatta in 2016 to pursue a diploma in Business Information Technology. As a refugee, I did not face discrimination from my peers or teachers, but I vividly recall one incident that left a lasting impression.
One day, I had gone to the admin office for some paperwork, and the person in charge very crassly said — “Oh, your country is fighting; you are here as a refugee.” I told him, “I have a scholarship here. You’re not the one paying my fees.” The good news is I had my phone and started recording, and I made my coordinators listen to the audio, and then they took up the matter.
The Turning Point: Becoming A Researcher
During my university years, I grappled with choosing a career path. However, one thing I had always cherished was the sight of researchers entering the refugee camp when I was younger.
Often, that was the only chance for us to share our stories, voice our concerns — and our hope to see solutions being implemented. That is also how we had got sheltered classrooms.
So when the opportunity to become a researcher came to me from Samuel Hall, I seized it.
I was interning at JRS, teaching basic computer skills to diploma students when Samuel Hall requested a number of enumerators through them and I was selected to work on a study that focused on the use of digital devices in the Kakuma refugee camp. This marked my first encounter with the Kobo Collection tool, and thanks to my IT skills, I was able to assist Samuel Hall well.
However, my initial experience with research proved to be challenging. Following the debriefing session in the morning, I discovered errors and mistakes in my approach. It was a valuable lesson that taught me the importance of precision and accuracy in research. I realised that to obtain reliable and meaningful information, I needed to adhere to the estimated time for interviews, ask questions in a clear and concise manner, and create an environment where participants felt comfortable and willing to share their experiences.
Patience and friendliness became my guiding principles during data collection. I understood that building rapport and establishing trust with participants were essential for gathering valuable insights aligned with the research objectives. By embracing these qualities, I could create a conducive atmosphere that encouraged participants to provide authentic and relevant information.
Now, as an independent researcher consultant for various organisations, alongside my role as an ICT Consultant with Innovation Lab School, part of the Take Action Global and UNHCR. I have recently also become a fellow with Samuel Hall, collaborating on various projects and engagements. I have been privileged to meet people from diverse cultures, listen to their stories, and understand their struggles.
In many ways, I think being a researcher is akin to being a doctor, as both involve creating a safe space for individuals to share their experiences and providing a listening ear for healing.
As a refugee myself, I find that my background enables me to connect with the people of Kakuma on a deeper level than those who arrive from outside. I am intimately familiar with their cultural nuances, and I understand the most appropriate approaches to engage with them effectively. This realisation has led me to advocate for humanitarian organisations and academics to collaborate with refugee researchers beyond just data collection but also research design, analysis, and dissemination. By involving us, they can address a pressing question: How can research in refugee camps be less extractive?
How can research in refugee camps be less extractive?
We need to build trust and relationships, a two-way process. I want to share an example.
Building Trust and Two-Way Relationships: Refugee researchers, given their precarious status and lack of solid address proofs, bank accounts are usually not trusted with the operating money required to carry out research.
However, I was pleased when half a million Kenyan Shilling were securely transferred to my account — including expenses of training enumerators, reimbursement for respondents, transportation etc., for a project I was overseeing for Samuel Hall on digital employment. This helped me carry out the research and data collection smoothly, and I was also asked to present my analysis of the data collected.Of course, I had to build and maintain that trust over time. I did that through regular de-briefs to my supervisors, duly filling in fieldwork journals and creating contingency plans because things on the field constantly change.
Engaging Communities and Implementing Recommendations: To ensure that research is truly transformative, community engagement and the inclusion of community leaders are vital beyond contractual relationships.
I remember, during a research study,one woman had travelled by foot to our focus group discussion — she was not sure if she would get reimbursement for her transport, but still, she came because she felt her insights would add value to the research. So we need to ensure that local communities understand the importance of the study, and we should transmit that to local communities through dissemination strategies.
Moreover, the implementation of research recommendations is also necessary. Often, when I go to the field, a lot of people ask me: ‘So many people have come here for research, but nothing much has changed for us.’ Implementation should come from the solutions put forth by the community. Don’t just ask us about our problems, also ask us about the solutions. We are on the frontlines and have contemplated solutions far more extensively than external researchers.
Fair Compensation: Refugee researchers should be fairly compensated for their contributions. It is disheartening to encounter instances where Western and non-refugee researchers receive higher pay than us within the same research team. I even raised my voice against this, but since the project was urgent, we had to accept the situation as was.
Investing in capacity building through mentorship programs and encouraging participatory research methods, while empowering refugee researchers, can help eliminate the stigma associated with being a “refugee” in our professional titles. So when I interview host community members, they no longer say, “You are a refugee; how can you be a researcher? Why should we tell you anything?” — This has been my biggest challenge as a refugee researcher.
I want people to continue telling me their stories; I want to amplify voices like mine that have often been silenced — no matter where I go.
In pursuit of further knowledge and understanding, I aspire to return to university to study international relations, bridging the gap between theory and the practical experiences I encounter. Additionally, I have a resettlement case pending in the USA, where I envision a brighter future for my daughter’s education.
My journey as a refugee researcher has been marked by the stories that people have trusted me with. By sharing my experiences and advocating for less extractive research practices, I aim to foster a collaborative and inclusive approach that empowers not only the refugee community but also researchers worldwide.
