Review
Comment
4 min read

Listen to their stories: five good reads by refugee writers

The very least we owe refugees is the courtesy of listening to their stories. As World Refugee Day approaches, Krish Kandiah calls us to go beyond the headlines and recommends five good reads.

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

Two young brothers sit next to other, the younger looks to the elder.
Hamed Amiri, author of The Boy with Two Hearts, with his brother.

I heard them calling out to me as I walked down the street.  

“Hey Paki, why don’t you go black to your own country?!”  

I carried on walking. I was 14 years old, and I had heard it all before. In fact, I couldn’t remember a day when I didn’t face a similar verbal barrage at some point. It didn’t get any easier. It always hurt.  

When you are told something over and over again, you can start to believe it is true. But I wasn’t from Pakistan. None of my family members were from Pakistan. I had been born in the Sussex County Hospital in Brighton. I had a British passport – as did my parents.  

That group of people on the other side of the road were making judgments about me that were entirely wrong. I had to remind myself – like I did every day: they were the ones who were out of place, not me. They were the ridiculous ones, not me.  

I flashback to that moment sometimes as immigration persists as a top news story. Most days in the media I hear someone say today’s equivalent of “Hey Paki, why don’t you go back to your own country?!  The derision is there, the bigotry, the racism, the aim to exclude and to humiliate, the false assumptions and preconceptions.   

It’s time to hear the other side of the story. Who are the refugees that are coming here? Why are they coming? What has happened to them to make them stay in a country that is not always as welcoming as it should be? How does it feel to be an asylum-seeker or refugee in the UK right now? For refugees who have faced not just verbal abuse but physical assault, threats of torture and death the very least we owe them is the courtesy of listening to their stories. 

As we approach World Refugee Day on 20th June I would like to recommend you to spend some time listening not just to the polarising rhetoric but those about whom they are talking. The best way is to spend time in person with those who have been forced to flee their homes. The second-best way is to read books written by or about refugees. The following are some of the most powerful I have read recently:   

The Lightless Sky by Gulwali Passarly 

A book cover shows a the head and body of a person silhouetted against a dusty sky.

This beautifully written book will not only give you fresh insight into life in Afghanistan but will help you understand why there are unaccompanied asylum-seeking young Afghan boys in the UK. Gulwali explains his dangerous childhood in Afghanistan and why his family paid to have him taken out of the country. This book draws you into the world of a young boy proud of his heritage but fleeing a war zone that ripped his family apart. Gulwali’s journey takes him from the mountains of Afghanistan with his grandfather to a rollercoaster of a life in the UK and how he became a carrier of the Olympic torch and an outspoken advocate for refugee rights. 

The Boy with Two Hearts by Hamed Amiri 

A book cover collage shows two brothers above an outline of one of their heads against a desert background

I saw this gripping tale of Hamed and his family performed at the National Theatre in London. It begins with Hamed’s mother Fariba taking the brave decision to give a public speech against the injustices of the Taliban in Afghanistan. The Taliban issued an execution order against her which would likely have led to her death. The family sell their possessions and head out of Afghanistan to get anywhere they can to safety. There are added complications to their already challenging circumstances as Hussein, Hamed’s older brother needs urgent life-saving heart surgery. It’s a nail-biting story of love and loss told with grace as the family travel across seven countries to find sanctuary finally in Wales.

My Fourth Time, We Drowned by Sally Hayden 

A boat used for smuggling migrants is paraded in a protest. Death notices of dead migrants are attached to the side
A boat used for smuggling migrants is paraded in a Berlin protest. Dead migrants are commemorated by death notices attached to its side.

Sally Hayden did not plan to write a book about the world’s most dangerous migration route but when she received direct social media messages from refugees imprisoned in a Libyan detention centre her life was turned upside down. This gritty story has won numerous awards for outstanding journalism and opens up readers eyes to the desperate situation faced by asylum seekers in the Middle East and Europe. Sally writes with great precision and detail and offers a candid and challenging picture of life for those forced to flee from countries such as Sudan, Eritrea, Syria and Afghanistan.  

You Don’t Know What War Is by Yeva Skalietska   

A book cover shows an illustration of a sunflower against a blue background.

Yeva Skalietska, aged 12, was sleeping soundly in her bed at her grandmother’s house when suddenly she was jolted awake by a noise that sounded like a car being crushed into scrap metal. She soon came to realise that a rocket attack was taking place in her home city of Kharkiv, Ukraine. Her gripping tale of those first few weeks of the Russian invasion told from a child’s perspective somehow brings home the reality of war in a most chilling and urgent way. It made me consider how my children would have dealt with all she had to go through. 

No Place Like Home refugee book festival

If you would like to hear refugee authors such as the ones above telling their stories in person, the ‘No Place Like Home’ Literary Festival is taking place on World Refugee Day, 20th June, St Martin-in-the-Fields Church, Trafalgar Square. A full list of speakers, and tickets,  subject to availability, can be found in this link.

Article
Comment
Mental Health
4 min read

We need to weep over the wreckage of mental illness

While its now OK to talk about mental illnesses, we need to weep over the harm caused and how we’ve tried to treat them, writes Rachael Newham.

Rachael is an author and theology of mental health specialist. 

 

 

A grey and white wall graffited with a tag a image of a person crumpled and crying.

Today, February 1st, is Time to Talk Day. It's part of a long-running campaign encouraging people to have open and honest conversations about mental health. It's aim is to break down the barriers of stigma and misunderstanding. It has been a staggering success - what was a fringe issue talked by those only affected by mental illness a decade ago is now part of common parlance. Mental health training is widely available, and the charity’s work has been seen to have a significant positive impact on the mental health conversation 

However, as our familiarity with the language of mental health has grown so too has the way we use it. People might talk about having PTSD after a bad date, or their friend being ‘so OCD’ about the way they organise. Unwittingly, as psychotherapist and author Julia Samuels points out, “[we have] awareness without real understanding.” 

However, awareness without understanding means we actually don’t reach those most impacted by mental illness. We know about mental health in the way we know about our physical health - but we are no more aware about the serious, sometimes lifelong mental illnesses which rob people of hope, joy and vitality - sometimes leaving them with lifelong disability.  

If you ask most people about mental illness they may tell you about depression and anxiety; the two most common mental illnesses which have become the acceptable face of mental illness. It’s reflected in the way funding is channeled to interventions that get people with mental illnesses back to work, or to NHS ‘Talking Therapies’ which offers short term psychological therapies (both of which are important initiatives) but have cut the number of inpatient beds from over 50,000 in 2001 to under 25,000 in 2022[3] which means those at the more severe end of the spectrum of mental health to mental illness are left to travel 300 miles for the care they need. 

We have to survey the wreckage that severe and enduring mental illness causes, before we can begin to rebuild a society that is kinder - without prejudice or stigma. 

Whilst it’s right that we have raised awareness about the most common conditions, we can’t ignore the illnesses which are termed ‘severe and enduring mental illnesses’ which include those such as bipolar disorder, major depression, schizophrenia and complex post-traumatic stress disorder.  

For people living with these conditions, the general mental health advice that we give; for example getting enough sleep and time outdoors may not be enough to keep the symptoms at bay. Just as general physical health advice like getting your five a day will not cure or prevent all severe physical illnesses. Medication, hospitalisation, and at times even restrictions of freedom like being detained under the mental health act might be necessary to save lives.  

These are stories that we need to hear. The debilitating side effects of life saving medications that can raise blood pressure, cause speech impediments. The injustices to confront (such as the fact that black people are five times more likely to be detained under the mental health act than their white counterparts) and the adjustments to life that those with disabilities are required to make to their lives.  

We have to survey the wreckage that severe and enduring mental illness causes, before we can begin to rebuild a society that is kinder - without prejudice or stigma. We have to listen to the perhaps devastating, perhaps uncomfortable stories of those who live with severe and enduring mental illness. The mental health npatient units miles from home, the lack of freedom, the searing - unending grief.  

Weep for the lives lost, the crumbling systems, the harm caused both by mental illness and the way we’ve tried to treat them. 

By hearing these stories, we are accepting them as a part of reality. For those of us in churches it might be that the healing didn’t come in the way we expected, it might be also be all of us accepting that the systems designed to care for those with mental illness have in fact, caused more harm. It’s seeing the injustices and understanding that we, our systems and professionals need to change our attitudes.  

Understanding and acceptance of the injustice are the way forward- that’s the only way change can come.  

It might look like standing in the rubble, it might feel too huge and all but hopeless.  

And yet in scripture and in life that is so often the only way we can begin to rebuild. 

In the book of Nehemiah, one of the Old Testament prophets who had lived in exile far away from home for his whole life, we see that upon hearing about the state of the walls of Jerusalem, before he did any of the things we expect heroes and innovators to do- he wept. In fact, it’s estimated that for four months he wept over the state of the place that had once been the envy of the ancient world.  

Perhaps we too need hear the stories and then weep. 

Weep for the lives lost, the crumbling systems, the harm caused both by mental illness and the way we’ve tried to treat them and then slowly, we can begin the work of rebuilding.  

It isn’t a work that can be done alone by a single agency much less a single person - it requires society to hear stories of the more than just ‘palatable’ mental illnesses with neat and tidy endings to the messy and sometimes traumatic stories that are there if we just care to listen to them. It might be reflected in the petitions we sign, the way we vote, the stories we choose to read. 

So ,this Time to Talk Day - I’m saying let’s continue the amazing work of talking about mental health - we need to keep talking about anxiety and depression. But let us also make conversations wider, so that they encompass the whole continuum of mental health and illness. 

 We’ve seen the difference Time to Talk can make - now it’s time to talk about severe and enduring mental illnesses, too.