A volunteer holds a rose next to a refugee girl

DEARBORN HEIGHTS — Khalil Kabati, a 9-year-old Syrian refugee, said he fled violence and despair in pursuit of a brighter future, in response to his mother’s question about why they fled their country.

The boy’s confident answer mirrors the grim reality and poignant awareness that millions of Syrians are forced to accept in the face of turmoil that has rendered most of their land uninhabitable.

Most of these refugees have found shelter in surrounding countries, like Lebanon and Jordan, but their reception in those countries is another story. Thousands have sought and were granted resettlement in the United States, with Michigan being the top state for taking them in. More than 400 of them now reside in Ann Arbor, Battle Creek, Bloomfield Hills, Dearborn, Troy and neighboring cities.

In Dearborn Heights, more than 300 Syrian refugees gathered to eat iftar at the Islamic House of Wisdom last Saturday. Husbands and wives, widows and young adults broke their fast with their children and friends from back home. Some of them have been here for a mere 10 days, some for about eight months.

They say they are ready to begin their new lives, to find work and integrate within their communities. But mostly, they are glad to be safe in their homes.

However, just as they struggled as refugees in the Middle East, they face similar challenges in Michigan.

The Kabati family

Kalil’s father, Mahmoud Kabati, told The Arab American News they have been living in the United States for 20 days, after finding refuge in Jordan for three and a half years. With help from the International Organization for Migration (IOM), a group that assists immigrants in need, Kabati seeks to realize his dream of providing an opportunity for his children to receive an education. He said he embarked on this “risky journey” to see his kids achieve great success.

“There is no future in Syria anymore,” Kabati said as his arm embraced Khalil.

In Syria, Kabati worked as a vegetable vendor. In Jordan, he worked in construction.

Kabati’s wife, Nareesa, said they are exhausted from being forced to live like nomads, traveling from one country to another.

“We’ve been homeless for five years,” she said as she attempted to hold her energetic 5-year-old daughter still. “It’s time to finally settle down.”

The Kabati family now enjoys a new, seemingly peaceful life, but anticipated the challenges that lay ahead as soon as they arrived at the airport.

Kabati said while other refugees were greeted at the airport by representatives of refugee aid groups and taken to their homes, they were greeted by a friend, who offered to provide any further assistance the family needed. Kabati added because they had no family in Michigan, the IOM inadvertently held his friend, also a recent Syrian immigrant, fully responsible for their aid.

The family friend gave them shelter for two days, until he secured them an apartment.

As of Saturday, Kabati and his family have not received paperwork and needed assistance to initiate their resettlement, like Social Security numbers, insurance and food stamps.

Kabati said he and his family are eager to start learning English, so they are able to get around and communicate with others. A tough language barrier prevents them from integrating into American society.

So far, no aid group has offered to place them in ESL courses, unlike the cases with other refugees.

A common problem all Syrian refugees interviewed are coming to realize is the impracticality and difficulty of not having cars. They say public transportation in Michigan is non-existent and that because they have neither cars nor driver’s licenses, they are largely unable to seek work, go to grocery stores or take their children to school.

Osama, a recent Syrian refugee and father who wished not to reveal his last name, said he asks the government and immigration organizations to show a greater interest in the needs of refugees, as promised. He acknowledged that the refugee aid group overseeing his family’s stay has helped them fill out some paperwork and once took them to the supermarket, but said it’s not enough.

“They are completely ignorant of our situation,” Osama said.

Wael, a refugee who wished to withhold his last name, had been in Michigan for 10 days and said the organization helping him is not providing enough care and rarely answers his phone calls.

Wael said without a car, he is forced to stay home and cannot get around town to search for a job.

He added that he lives in an unsafe neighborhood in Detroit and wishes to move to another apartment. He has been told that there is not enough housing, so he is on his own.

Sleiman, a refugee who has been here for about a month and a half, said lack of transportation is stifling a successful transition.

“Without a car, it’s as if you are paralyzed,” Sleiman said. “You can’t work and go anywhere. We want to be self-sufficient.”

He said he walks a half hour to the grocery store and back to his home. He added that an Egyptian family has been supporting his family since their arrival.

“We Syrian people are strong and don’t require help from anybody,” he said. “Time is just weighing us down.”

Sleiman said his priorities since deciding to leave Syria are his children’s education and keeping them from witnessing the atrocities he did.

Sameer Alrashdan, a 55-year-old Syrian refugee who immigrated to Michigan eight months ago, after staying in Jordan for three years, said he feels as if he is 8-months-old. The father of seven said he feels like he has been reborn.

His dream of living in the “country of law, justice and opportunity” is paying off. His  large family had a positive experience in receiving aid, access to buses to drive them around and quickly obtaining the proper documents to begin their new lives. His Yemeni friend had to buy him a car.

“Here, I feel I am a human being,” Alrashdan said. “That title is hard to achieve in dictatorial countries. Here, in this democratic society, we are all immigrants with the same rights.”

Alrashdan fled to Jordan with some cash, but it was soon depleted. Because of their refugee status, he and his family were denied jobs. He could not pay rent or feed his family. If they were caught working, they would be deported back to Syria.

He said he lived in constant anxiety. When his son went out with his friends, he would have to reprimand him. He was scared his son would be sent back to Syria at any movement.

“That’s like a death sentence,” he said.

Dr. Ayesha Fatima is the board vice president at the Syrian American Rescue Network, an organization that helps refugees reach self-sufficiency in Michigan. Established last year, following the Syrian crisis, it facilitates securing healthcare, transportation and other essentials for Syrian refugees.

Fatima said the families are facing many struggles that hinder them from engaging in their communities. She said there is not enough housing in cities like Dearborn, where the families want to be because of language barriers in other communities. The biggest struggle is transportation.

Within three months, the resettlement agencies’ jobs are done, she said. The immigrants are expected to find work, as well as have their own cars, with insurance.

“No one can be completely self-sufficient in three months; absolutely impossible,” Fatima said.

She also said her organization helps bridge the gaps in health care, offers 

ESL courses and holds mental health and music therapy workshops for those who need it.

She said the amount of suffering they have experienced, mixed with the expectation to start a new life, puts additional pressure and anxiety on the refugee families. She added that a lot of children also have PTSD.

“But I think they’re very, very resilient people,” she said. “The way they have been mingling and trying to fit into the community is just amazing. I think with time, they’ll do great.”