Houdan
Houdan is now 20 years old and lives in a flat in Stockholm, Sweden, with her sister. She is studying for a degree in biomedical technology, and is training to become a laboratory scientist, but despite her academic success, Houdan feels strongly that children should stay with their parents and not be sent abroad:
Overall, it really is not a good thing - absolutely not. The children are not secure, they do not do well, it is tragic. I have seen young ones here - they are not handling it well, they can't make it. They can't take advantage of the opportunities they are sent for because of their circumstances.
She arrived herself as an unaccompanied child of 13, with responsibility for three other children, including a four-year-old. This is her story:
I left [the Somali capital] Mogadishu and fled across the border with my uncle, aunt, my sister and a number of other children. My mother was dead, and my father had been killed in Mogadishu. We went to [the Ethiopian capital] Addis Ababa and stayed with relatives...
Four of us travelled to Sweden eventually. I was just told that I was going. It was difficult for me, because I had friends in Addis Ababa and I didn't know the uncle I was going to live with. I was nervous, but didn't resist. Arriving in Sweden was actually very smooth, because my uncle came and collected us and took us straight to his home. Then I went through the asylum process.
For a year I learnt Swedish with other asylum seekers. It was very difficult in the beginning, but I found learning Swedish straightforward - I knew I needed it. I tried not to think about things, about what had happened - it was my way of putting it behind me. I concentrated on my studies. It helped to have my sister with me.
At first it was very difficult living with my uncle; he was alone before we came. I know he tried to make it easier for us, but it took about six months for us to settle down and get used to him. We were all girls. I was a teenager, and a lot was happening to me at that age. His friend had a wife, who would come and try and talk to me once in a while. Otherwise, we were isolated, living in a small place [about 300 km outside Stockholm], so we didn't have much contact at all with the [Somali] community.
For me, school was the only time I could meet people of my own age. Sometimes I ached to be back home. I had no telephone contact. I really felt isolated and alone. After one year I had to leave the local secondary school. I tried to adjust. There was a bit of a gap in my education. I had trouble in English and studied with a special group. It is not easy to make friends. I was not used to being with people outside my family, and [later] I was without my sister. It is not easy even now - that could be my fault, or it could be a problem on both sides [in Sweden].
I had one year, [then] my uncle came to Stockholm so I had to go to a different school. It is really difficult - just when you feel things are going well you have to move and start again. I was totally new, in 7th grade at the high school. My schoolwork was good because I concentrated hard on my studies to stop myself thinking about what has been.
But it was difficult to study at home because of my younger sisters. It could be very annoying. I had a responsible position at home - I was a second mother to them. I was very involved with them, and also did the cooking and had domestic responsibilities. I understand it was very difficult for my uncle. We kept some distance from him once in Stockholm. We had to start over again. Now there was no other female figure, he didn't know any women here. At school they said you could talk to the nurse or the teachers, but I didn't feel comfortable.
After three years, I moved to a school close by. Then I was 16. I made two very good friends. Of course you can talk about women's things and teenage things with your friends, otherwise I didn't get any help. Then I went to university to do a first degree. I moved out of my uncle's house. He was not happy about it. He said it was not a normal thing for a Somali girl to do, that it went against all the rules. But I don't like being compared to anyone; I live by my own rules. We had a fight, and he eventually accepted. But another relative was very harsh and said he would have nothing to do with me and that I was no longer part of the family.
It's tough on your own, economically. I work weekends caring for elderly people. That gives me some money and I get a loan for university. My family doesn't give me anything, but I don't expect them to, they have a poor financial situation. The advantage of living here is that it has helped me with my studies. You make your own rules here, you are responsible for yourself. When you are with your family, you can blame whomever you like. Here, you only have yourself to blame. I think that is good for me.
I consider moving back to Somalia. I don't think I want to have children here in Sweden. It's good for my kids to be where I should have been. I feel however long I have been here, I will never belong here. You see that - feel that - every day. Things happen that remind you all the time that you do not belong, you are perceived as different. There are a lot of assumptions made about you that are not correct.
I know it would be difficult for me to live in Somalia, but I would adjust. I really want my kids to live in my country. I feel that so strongly. Parents have to be sure of what they are doing. With what I know now, I wouldn't send my kids [abroad]. I think being separated from parents makes it very difficult - most of the young Somalis we see coming here come without their parents.
But, yes, I did get an opportunity. The education has been a great asset to me, because I want to do something for my people. When I can do something for my people, that will be my benefit.