Eritrean finds new life and career in a land of opportunities and equality
Wellington, November 27, 2020
Former refugee and new MP Ibrahim Omer captivated Parliament yesterday (Thursday, November 26, 2020) with his maiden speech to the House.
Here is the transcript, from Hansard, of his life’s journey:
Kia Ora and Salaam Alaikum. My name is Ibrahim Omer. I am an Eritrean. I am a son, brother, a friend. I am a Muslim. I am a former refugee. I am a trade unionist and living wage activist. But most importantly, I stand here today in front of you bursting with pride as a Kiwi who loves Aotearoa New Zealand.
Long and arduous journey
My journey to this place has been a long one. The story of my journey is the story of every refugee displaced and forced from their home country and their loved ones. My vision is for my journey to give hope to the many other people with stories like mine.
My journey began 15,000 kilometres away, in a peaceful, small East African country called Eritrea. My forebears were chiefs, warriors, who led their people free to defend their land from invaders, who handed down their values of social justice and defending human rights to me and to my family. My grandfathers were leaders in their village and their clans. Our family slowly moved to the city and my father went to school and learnt many languages. My mother was a loving Mum to me and to my four brothers and my sister.
Tolerant and multicultural
Mine was a happy and typical Eritrean upbringing. I grew up in a tolerant society where people from different cultures and religious backgrounds embraced each other. My extended family were Muslims but our neighbours were Christians, and we shared our lives together. We celebrated Christian holidays with them and they celebrated the Muslim holidays with us.
I attended public schools, including an Islamic Primary School, and then my local junior and high school. It was a loving and tolerant environment, culturally conservative, but there was a strong sense of social justice and standing up for people who didn’t have enough.
As a child I was full of hopes and ambitions and dreams. Among the very long list of things I wanted to be and do, two things stood out for me: to be a football player like Ronaldo from Brazil or a politician. But those dreams were cut short by a brutal dictatorship that killed the dreams of thousands of young Eritrean men and women.
In my home country I saw how politics and politicians ruined people’s lives, and, hence, I gave up my dream to be a politician. My homeland has a long history of invasion and colonisation by, first, the Italians, the Brits, and then the Ethiopians.
The impacts of colonisation are still being experienced as I speak here today. Right now, tens of thousands of innocent Ethiopians are being displaced by this unnecessary and senseless war in Ethiopia. In the last two weeks alone, 40,000 Ethiopians became refugees and fleeing to Sudan for safety. In addition to this, about 100,000 Eritrean refugees who have been living in the areas of conflict are now in danger.
War-prone country
In nearly all my life in Eritrea, there has been a war. For 30 years my country was locked in a war for independence. I remember the terror when the war raged in our city. I was young, but I vividly remember the fighting. There was no power. We had very little food. The city was surrounded by the fighters for months and months.
Then independence was declared in Eritrea. I saw music and people dancing in the streets all the time, day and night, for about a month. We believed that Eritrea could be the shining star for Africa; everywhere else there were coups and civil wars.
But our country was betrayed by the same people who fought for Eritrea, who fought to free Eritrea from colonisers. They took away our dreams. And now, Eritrea is one of the biggest refugee-producing countries per capita in the world.
I was drafted to the national service at a very young age, as a high school student. I was subjected to extreme hardships. The national service in Eritrea is meant to be for 18 months, but in reality, it is indefinite. Once you are in, there is no way out of it.
Human Rights abuses
Eritrea was and still is a place where citizens disappear for no reason. Gross human rights abuses, arbitrary arrests, and imprisonment are normal. I knew I had no choice but to leave before my time came. So I left behind everything I loved: my country, my family, my friends, and my dreams, including the long list of things I wanted to be and do.
The chance of making it to Sudan was probably about 50/50. Lots of people do not make it. At the time, there was a shoot-to-kill policy for deserters. I took the risk. I said to myself, I would rather die trying to escape than to die a slow death in Eritrea. Weeks later, I made it. I made it across the border and handed myself in to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) camp and the Sudanese authorities, and I was granted refugee status to stay in Sudan.
‘Manaakitanga and Aroha’
Five years later, I came to New Zealand as a refugee. I had never heard of this place, to be honest, but an immigration officer told me it was one of the most peaceful countries in the world.
That was good enough for me, because I was sick and tired of looking over my shoulder.
I arrived at Aotearoa on May 15, 2008. From the moment I landed at Auckland Airport, I felt the manaakitanga and aroha that this country is known for. After six weeks in Māngere, I moved to Wellington to start a new life.
Tough life again
My early life in New Zealand wasn’t easy. I got a job as a security guard, but I left it after I was attacked and beaten in the middle of the night. I did farm work, fruit picking, and started cleaning. My low wages meant that I could not save to study, and in order to support my family back home, I picked up more and more hours until I was doing 80 hours a week.
Ten years ago, I was cleaning at Te Herenga Waka, Victoria University of Wellington.
I worked with some of the hardest people I know. Some of them are here today: Rebecca, Awak, and Emma. All I did was clean, clean, clean, day and night. I did not have a life. I did not meet people. I was not active in the community. I did not have the time to think or even dream.
First Public Speech
Then one day in 2013, my union organiser asked me to speak at the forum at Victoria University to challenge the mayoral candidates to make a commitment to pay a living wage. It was the first time that I had ever spoken in public and I was speaking on behalf of about 100 cleaners.
I was scared and I wanted to turn away when I saw that The Hub was packed. But the response to my speech changed something inside me. Before I spoke, I threw away the speech that I had prepared before and I spoke from my heart.
I said to the students, “I see you each night studying and working away at your degrees and Masters and PhDs.” I told them that my dream was not to end up as a cleaner, working 80-plus hours a week. My dream was to study, but I am stuck in the trap that is poverty.
I got active in the union and the living wage movement and in my refugee background community and the Labour Party. I got a pay rise and I decided to go to University.
A few months later, one Sunday night, I was cleaning a lecture theatre. The next day, I had my first lecture, Politics 111, in the same lecture theatre. It was a very emotional moment that I will never forget.
Quick Transformation
My life has been transformed so quickly. In 12 years after moving to New Zealand, and in the five years after being a cleaner, four years after graduating, I became a member of this Parliament.
This is the result of the overwhelming support that I have received.
It is because of the people that I have met along the way.
I am very proud of my refugee background community and the ChangeMakers Resettlement Forum and other advocacy groups across the country. I have always wanted to help my community and that’s why I got involved in ChangeMakers, first as a member and then as the chair of the organisation.
Christchurch Massacre
On March 15, 2019, our country suffered a tragic terrorist attack. It was like a bad dream.
You never think that this could happen in New Zealand. How could this happen to us?
I was worried that it would be the end of the safe and peaceful New Zealand that the immigration officer told me about. Then I saw the leadership of our Prime Minister and the massive support of New Zealanders.
The Mosques were not just a garden with flowers and loving messages, but the whole country came out and wrapped themselves around us, figuratively and literally. I could not control my emotions. That terrorist did not just want to attack the mosque and take away a few lives; he wanted to turn us against each other, but things did not go the way that he wanted.
Thanks to our Prime Minister’s leadership and the five million Kiwis who reacted with aroha and embraced the Muslim community, our bonds grew together.
To me, it is reinforced my identity and love that I have for New Zealand. I will use my platform in Parliament to support and rebuild our community, champion the voice of refugee-background New Zealanders, and to stamp out racism in Aotearoa.
Admiration for New Zealand Politics
One thing that I really admire about New Zealand politics, and which restored my hope to be a politician, was when my friend told me that although politicians may debate in this Chamber, they will then go afterwards and share a coffee and meal together.
I will treat everyone, all my colleagues here in this House, with respect and dignity.
I am proud of my union living wage whānau. I’ve been an E tū member, a delegate, and an organiser. I’ve been a leader in the living wage movement.
I was so proud, a few months ago, when E tū members who were MSD security guards won the living wage. When I recruited them, I talked to them to join the union and told them that we will win the living wage if we all stand up together. After we won, I rang up all of them and told them that this is what it means to be in the union. This is what it means to be active in the living wage movement. This did not come from nothing; it’s our victory.
Voice of workers
And now I am here to be a voice for workers like those security guards and like my co-workers from uni. While my life has dramatically transformed, people like Rebecca, Awak, and Emma are still on the lowest paid wages. They work hard, they work very long hours, and, yet they still struggle to provide three meals for their kids.
In 10 years of working hard, they’re still poor; it should not be like that.
My vision is for all workers to lead decent lives and participate in society with dignity and respect. My voice will be for every New Zealander who is struggling on low wages, whether they were born here or they have recently arrived. I will still stand up for every New Zealander who needs an opportunity, every New Zealander who needs decent pay and conditions, every New Zealander who needs equality and the chance to live in a fair country where everyone can thrive and live with dignity. Throughout my experience as a low-paid worker, I realise that the strong labour movement is essential to protecting the rights of vulnerable people. The strong labour movement is what’s needed to create a just and fair society.
Party of values
I am proud to be part of the Labour Party because it is the Party that shares my values: fairness and the community and equal opportunities. I stand here because of the support the Labour Party whānau have given me, and an opportunity to be a voice for those who often struggle; their voice is here. Thank you to our Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern, and Deputy Prime Minister Grant Robertson for your leadership and also for your personal support to me.
I am here today because of the inspiration and support of many, many people, too many to name. Everyone I have met along the way has made an impact in my life and enriched it—thank you.
This includes the people from my early life in Eritrea, to my family who passed on to me the values of social justice from a very young age, I send my love from afar. To everyone who helped me to get through, early in my days in Sudan, my cellmates, the UNHCR, the people I nervously shared the plane to New Zealand with, and the friends I made in Māngere. Ngā mihi nui ki a koutou.
Expression of Gratitude
To my “New Zealand Mum”, Lindy McIntyre, thank you for everything. To my E tū and living wage whānau, especially Annie Newman, thank you for believing in me. Thank you to the workers who have risked a lot by standing up and trusting me to be your organiser. Paul Tolich, who chased me around Wellington with the Labour Party nomination on the day it was due, I can’t thank you enough, thank you. And thank you to Fleur Fitzsimons, who planted the possibility of me becoming an MP in my mind just about a year ago—thank you.
To Rory, Isabella, Gordon, and Winnie, because of your love and support, I never feel like I am away from my family, thank you. To my friends, who also became my campaign team, Rory, Isabella, Nick Davies, Sam Graben, Steff Gregor, and the many, many others, thank you for making me a better person.
To my caucus, I am proud to be with a group that looks much like New Zealand, and I am excited about the next three years, Kia Ora.
Inspiration from the world
I end with the final acknowledgement to all the millions of people displaced around the world.
Your courage in the face of unimaginable adversity will always inspire me.
The reality is that many millions of people will not have the luck that I have had. Until the world changes, innocent lives will continue to be lost and displaced in the hands of evil and war. That is what we must change—that is what we must change. In my mother tongue, which is called Saho, I just wanted to say to these people:
Sen abliuk ane, which is “I see you.”
Sen arar ye abeuk ane, which is “I feel you.”
Insha Allah rile sneak ane ane, which is “God Willing, I will be on your side and fight alongside you.”
Nō reira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā tātou katoa.
