Migration to the Center — We stand with Refugees
The chain around Malaki’s ankle spoke volumes, yet it told only half of the story. The protective gear worn by Gerald was impressive, but not nearly as impressive as his journey. Two young men with two very different accounts of what it is like to be a refugee in today’s fractured world — a world so often riven by fear and discord.
As a young boy, Malaki spent years living in the UNHCR’s Nyarugusu refugee camp in Tanzania. Born with an intellectual disability, Malaki faced seemingly insurmountable odds in gaining access to the types of things that all youth yearn for: acceptance, belonging, opportunity. As part of a desperate move to ensure their son was safe and protected, Malaki’s family was left with few options, beyond restraining him in an effort to limit his vulnerability. This decision was a desperate form of social protection. Malaki lived restrained by a chain in a world relegating so many individuals like him to a lifetime of social isolation, confusion, and increased risk. His chain was a physical symbol of his exclusion from a world that simply did not know how to welcome him. In a way, his story symbolizes how society so often reacts with inaction to the plight of refugees fleeing the hell of war, poverty and conflict.
It is altogether remarkable when one considers that, after less than two years after Special Olympics found Malaki- and subsequently working with the family and camp to physically liberate him- this young man was to lead the procession of some 7,000 Special Olympics athletes during the 2019 Special Olympics World Games Opening Ceremonies in Abu Dhabi. In ways big and small, it was the introduction of the simple game of football to red dust fields of the Nyarugusu refugee camp that served as the key element to Malaki’s rise to prominence in the Special Olympics movement.
Thousands of kilometers north of Tanzania, in the industrial city of Turin, Italy, Gerald — a young man also forced to migrate from his homeland in northern Cameroon — has another story of transformation to tell. Gerald, who is today a member of the Italian Red Cross team, joined his colleagues during the height of the COVID crisis to provide psycho-social support, translation services, and capacity for refugees recently rescued in the Mediterranean. As he translated, organized and assembled as part of the operation, few could appreciate how deep an understanding Gerald had for their plight. Indeed, their plight was, and in many ways still is, something he holds in his heart.
Gerald arrived in Lampedusa like so many migrants and refugees, and found his way to legal residency in Italy. The incessant challenges he faced were, in his words, “almost impossible given how I arrived, and where I came from.” Chief among those challenges was the lack of opportunities to meaningfully integrate into the community. Getting involved with Special Olympics Turin — and playing on a Unified football team alongside athletes with intellectual disabilities — was a turning point for Gerald.
“I will forever be grateful to the athletes of Special Olympics Italia athletes,” Gerald later commented in an address at the UNHCR Headquarter office in Geneva. “They welcomed me. They understood me. They offered their hands of friendship to me when I needed it most- and it continues to serve as a defining moment in my life.”
Considering the horror and hardship faced by refugees every day around the world, it is difficult to imagine that something as seemingly simple as sport could help transform their plight. Sport — at its very best — is inherently and instinctively inclusive, and the Special Olympics movement is showing the profound impact that it can have on the lives of refugees, empowering so many to move from the margins to the center.
As the world gathers to celebrate World Refugee Day, Malaki and Gerald — both bold young leaders in the Special Olympics movement — offer two strong examples of migrant youth who have seen their lives transformed by the power of grass-roots sport. Their respective journeys also highlight the deepening plight facing so many migrant youth worldwide, at a time when the COVID crisis only serves to exacerbate what was already heightened vulnerability and social isolation.
As the world reflects upon the plight facing refugee youth of all abilities, it becomes clear that national governments, policy makers, and communities need to redefine the role that grass-roots sports can play as part of the solution. Moreover, in a post COVID global setting, and in the context of the recent anti-racism protests where the deep vulnerability of marginalized populations has been exposed, their voices must be allowed to migrate to the center of the global dialogue.
That is exactly what Special Olympics has been working to achieve in recent years. Under the Unified with Refugees platform, Special Olympics is implementing inclusive programming in dozens of nations around the world. From Cyprus to Thailand and from Kenya to Belgium, Special Olympics is working with cross-sector partners to ensure that refugees and migrants, namely youth, can benefit from one of the strongest development-through-sport models. Through early childhood development activities, family health seminars, inclusive sports and coaches training, Unified with Refugees is actively empowering youth of all abilities to achieve their best on and off the field of play.
The Special Olympics movement understands the ways in which simple play can break down the walls of exclusion and intolerance and replace them with collaboration, mutual understanding, and dignity. As a movement, it also understands that supporting migration to the center — through initiatives like Unified with Refugees — is what brought Malaki from a restrained existence to the global sports stage. It understands that through empowerment, Gerald migrated from a beneficiary to an agent of service and social change.
Malaki and Gerald are helping tell the whole story. The world stands to gain so much by listening. And today, as a global movement, we are proud to stand with refugees.
