When I read or hear stories about the current immigration crisis on the U.S. southern border, the word “cacophony” frequently comes to mind: an “unpleasant mixture of loud sounds,” as one dictionary defines it.
The same dictionary then provides a list of synonyms: bedlam, clash, commotion, salvo, thunder, and uproar.
Kenyan-born Dr. Godriver Odhiambo, a professor, at Le Moyne was among immigrants sworn in as American at the grounds of the New York Fair.
To honor New Americans day, nearly 100 immigrants were sworn in on Friday during a naturalization ceremony at Daniella’s, formerly the Empire Room. This is the fifth year the State Fair has held the ceremony and each one carries a lasting impact.
Calling Aklilu Burayu a parking ramp attendant doesn’t come close to describing the roles he’s played in the Twin Cities economy.
In the 13 years since coming to Minnesota from Ethiopia, he’s been a painter and sander at a Blaine wood factory, an assembly line worker in Arden Hills and worked a succession of office jobs through a staffing agency. These days when he’s not at the ramp, he picks up shifts at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport as a chef.
Most African asylum-seekers who made the perilous journey through Central America to the southern US border and flooded shelters in Maine’s largest city have new homes.
Thursday marked the closing of an emergency shelter set up in a basketball arena in Portland after several hundred African immigrants arrived from Texas. All told, the city has found homes for more than 200 people since the first families arrived in June.
When Fahmo Abdi and her family immigrated to the United States from Kenya, they lost contact with all of their loved ones. While living in a refugee camp, Abdi’s mother decided to move her family to the United States in search of a better life. “She knew she had to work hard to provide for us and [for] her family back home,” Abdi recalls.
Recent political attacks have shined a spotlight on Minnesota’s immigrant communities. Minnesota has the country’s largest Somali-American population – 69,000 people. That’s about 40% of everyone reporting Somali ancestry in the United States and more than four times the Somali-American population of the next largest state, Ohio.
Amadou Sow, 49, a Mauritanian national, stands in the doorway of his apartment in Lockland, where his family has lived for 13 years. Immigration and Customs Enforcement arrested him Aug. 22 but inexplicably released him July 12 after almost 11 months in detention. (Photo: Albert Cesare / The Enquirer)
President Donald Trump’s stance on immigration could hardly be less welcoming. During the 2016 presidential campaign, he pledged to build a wall across the entire southern border, deport all undocumented immigrants, and restrict legal immigration—including instituting a “complete and total shutdown” of Muslims entering the United States. He has yet to deliver on the most draconian of these promises, but there’s no denying that his administration has made border security and immigration enforcement top priority
In 2003 a go-getting Kenyan nurse called Janet Kisaka Rangi found out that an application process she had begun with some agents in Nairobi had borne fruit. She had an opportunity to move to the United States.
She quit her nursing job at Aga Khan University hospital after working for a year. She packed her belongings, left her husband behind and flew off to America, all this while expecting her first child.
Facing persecution, violence, lack of health care and myriad other barriers to safety, millions of refugees leave home each year seeking a better life in a different country. As of 2017, more than 2 million Somalis have been displaced, in one of the world’s worst refugee crises, according to the United Nations refugee agency.
Earlier this year I was at my local gas station at 6 a.m. stocking up on caffeine for the daily commute. I joked with the young Ethiopian attendant about how haggard he looked and how happy he must be to get some rest after a graveyard shift.