For many of us, our identity is linked to a passport, identity card, birthplace or culture. We have a home. But what would you do if you could not define your sense of self in relation to any of these things nor live your life serenely in a land you can call home? That is the dilemma you will face when you are forced to leave your country.

You become a refugee.

According to the 1951 Convention, a refugee is a person who is outside the country of his nationality and unable to return for fear of being persecuted because of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion. Laws in Malaysia, particularly the Immigration Act 1959/1963, do not recognize a refugee nor does it make a distinction between a refugee and an economic migrant. Thus, the situation of refugees has been complex as a result of a lack of official status.

Refugees in Malaysia are considered as illegal immigrants and are, therefore, subject to arrest, detention and even deportation. They have no access to legal employment. Their children have no right to formal education. They mostly accept jobs that the local populations do not wish to take, i.e. jobs that are dirty, dangerous and difficult.

Moreover, some employers exploit their dire situation by paying them extremely low wages or, in extreme cases, food and shelter without pay. Already weighed down by feelings of guilt, despair and loneliness, the difficulties refugees face every day make sharing a two room flat with 20 others seem a luxury.

Stories to weep over

Abdullah Yahya, aged 42, is a Rohingya-Burmese refugee now living in Selayang, Selangor. He was forced to leave his home village some ten years ago due to serious public disorder and complex human rights issues. He left behind his family, hoping to find a better future elsewhere.

"I fled in the middle of the night. It was raining, so it was easy for me to hide behind trees in the jungle. My friend who tried to escape with me was shot as we both ran," Abdullah recounted.

"I walked for six days to get out of the district where my village was. I found water in puddles and rivers and ate whatever edible leaves I could find. I was very weak from hunger when I reached a Muslim village in the next district. I hid there for two weeks before I gained strength to continue."

From then, he walked for over one month to finally reach the Myanmar-Thailand border. He found an agent who was willing to take him as far as Bangkok, on condition that he would have to provide free labour to the agent as payment. Abdullah agreed.

In order to go Bangkok, he was crammed into a small jeep with nine other people. He was in the front seat, and a woman curled under his feet. On top of her was another man. In the seat behind, six people lay on top of each other in the car. "It was so hot. We were all suffocating, but we could not stop because we were scared of the authorities. We asked the driver for a drink of water, but he refused."

He narrated that there was a police roadblock, and everybody had to run into the jungle. The woman who sat beneath him was pregnant and had lost her shoes, so he gave her his. "I ran into the jungle with no shoes. I did not know where I was going. I was just scared", said Abdullah

Afterwards, Abdullah was forced into slave labour by the agent to pay off what he owed for transportation. But luckily a fellow Rohingya man he met helped him escape. The Rohingya man helped him buy a train ticket to the Thai-Malaysia border town of Sungai Golok. The train ride took him 16 hours. When he reached Sungai Golok, he waited in the jungle for days.

When he first arrived in Malaysia, he was able to find work in construction sites and do gardening. But now, his ill health prevents him from working. He has no family in Malaysia, and relies on the kindness of friends to feed him and give him shelter.

Nightmare of being alive

Mohd Yahya, at the tender age of five, was spared the scenes of horrifying violence. During the civil unrest in the Province of Aceh, Indonesia, Mohd Yahya's parents were killed by armed men. He also witnessed the brutal killing of his uncle. It was soon after that incident that his grandmother Aminah Ahmad brought him to Malaysia.

Aminah is constantly worried for Yahya, as she feels he has not been able to recover from the shock of watching his own uncle brutally shot to death before his eyes.

Yahya has never spoken about what happened in Aceh, but Aminah said that while he is playing by himself, Yahya will suddenly stop, and curl up sobbing in a corner. He is now terrified of any person in uniform and young men with long hair. Aminah has frequently found him hiding in the house when Malaysian police patrol the area.

For Yahya, it takes time for him to warm up to other children in the neighbourhood. He gets easily scared nowadays, even during play, but given the experiences he has undergone, this is hardly surprising.

The neighbourhood children play pretend games of war ambushing and shooting each other with 'guns' made of discarded wood or sticks. Yahya likes to join the games, but is frightened and cries when the other children 'shoots' upon him.
Yet, he quickly joins in the game again, telling his grandmother "I want to shoot, shoot. 'He' killed my father, let me shoot 'him'."

A hope for the future

Recalling the situation of civil conflict in Aceh before her family fled to Malaysia in 1992, Hasanah binti Muhdaid said the villagers were in constant terror of the armed conflict and never felt safe.

"Even if you wanted to sleep at night you couldn't. Every village had a military camp in it. We had about 100 soldiers in our village, and they surrounded the village.

In Malaysia, she complements their meager income by sewing or selling 'keropok'. None of her children go to school, which is one of her major concerns.

"If our children don't go to school, we will never get out of this situation," she said.

Hasanah is also very concerned for the welfare of the refugee women in her community, describing their situation as "no work and no place to go" after leaving their families behind in Aceh.

Most of the community members take in the women temporarily but, due to dire constraints, no one can afford to support someone else for very long.

"Work is difficult because we have no work permits. The men can go out to find jobs. The men that manage to find jobs can take care of their families. But what happens to the women who have no husbands?" she said.

Hasanah herself initiates activities to help these women. She learned how to sew while in Aceh, and she now has classes to teach the single mothers and single women how to mend and make clothes so that they may find ways to make money.

Hasanah, though struggling to make ends meet, provides small loans to these women while they get on their feet. She also mobilizes community support for the women who are ill and need medical care.

"We do not want charity, we don't want to beg for help," she said. "We can come together as a community to help each other. I don't want to go to UNHCR all the time to ask for help, because we should be able to be independent.

"So this is why I try to help the women here stand on their own feet. We heard last year that the government will allow refugees to work legally. To me, that will be a godsend. We can then support ourselves, and we no longer have to feel so small, so dependent on others.

"This is about 'maruah' (dignity). Just because we are refugees, we should not have to feel shame. Let us work legally, and we will take care of our family and we can contribute back to the country."

Is there a way out?

All in all, it is difficult for refugees to find work in Malaysia due to their unofficial status in the eyes of Malaysian law. For those who do work illegally, this exposes them to exploitation by employers. Many refugees have an added disadvantage of not speaking very fluent English or Bahasa Melayu, which inhibits their ability to find work.

Refugee women, in particular, feel more vulnerable as they tend to be more exposed to exploitation and harassment than men.

However, things are changing for the better, since Mang Tha, meaning "Sweet Dreams" was established in September 2005 as an income-generating and skills- learning project for the refugee women from Myanmar who are now seeking refuge in Malaysia.

It started with a group of ten women, and now has become a weekly meeting point for over 30 women, made up of Chins, an ethnic group from Chin State in Myanmar, who have fled persecution, severe discrimination and human rights abuses.

Ghislaine Grasser, a French volunteer with Mang Tha, said that the initiative began as a way to help these refugee women earn a bit of income. Ghislaine and another French volunteer, Aurorele Lebuchard, help coordinate Mang Tha.

The women of Mang Tha create scarves, bags, and jewellery, all infused with traditional design elements indigenous to their Chin heritage. The volunteers teach the women cross-stitching techniques, bring them the required materials such as beads, thread and fabric, and also identify avenues to market the products.

80% of the earnings go back to the women, while the rest recovers the cost of thread, cloth and beads. The volunteers often buy these items with their own money, as there is no start up capital for Mang Tha. But they feel this small sacrifice is worth it when they see the good this initiative is doing for the women.

Accomplishment

To Chin refugee Nie Nie, working with Mang Tha gives her a sense of accomplishment and a way to help time pass as she waits for a long term solution to her plight.

"I enjoy getting together with the other women. And I like keeping busy. I usually don't have anything else to do except stay inside my flat," she said.

Bubu who has been in Malaysia for three years, being unable to find a job was no reason to remain idle. Bubu has been part of this income-generating idea even before Mang Tha appeared in the picture.

"This is my favourite," she said, fingering the intricate embroidery of a man and woman walking through the woods. It reminded her of her husband who had always accompanied her to the hills where her fields of paddy and sugar cane grew. In the quiet of the morning, they would enjoy each other's company. Sadly, her husband died in a fire and Bubu left Myanmar shortly after that.
Today, she is part of the group of women who are taking refuge in Malaysia, and looking for hope of a better life. The work at Mang Tha provides them hope for a better life for the here and now, to be able to buy food and clothes enough for their daily need.

According to Yante Ismail, the External Relations Officer of United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in Malaysia, over the past two year, UNHCR has encouraged a constructive working relationship with Malaysian authorities to address the manifold issues refugees and asylum-seekers face in the country. In this association, the authorities have, for instance, provided de facto recognition of UNHCR documents issued in the form of identity cards. UNHCR hopes to work with the Government towards the issuance of temporary stay permits or work permits for the refugee communities.

Hopefully, these initiatives will help make dreams come true for these refugees.