News
Employee Spotlight - Muna Farah - 5/28/2009
In 2007, Muna Farah joined Hacienda CDC staff as an after-school program coordinator and parent coordinator for our growing Somali community: 40% of our after-school program participants are Somali refugees. Muna provides critical support to residents as her personal story and experiences are both inspiring and encouraging to Somali youth and families. Here is her story.
Muna was born and raised in Somalia during the advent and escalation of “the war”, as she calls it. Similar to the recent history of many African nations, Somalia was colonized by Italian and British regimes and erupted into chaos after the withdrawal of colonial powers in 1960, experiencing a series of authoritarian leaders and warring clans seeking the power seat. Born into a relatively stable period in 1986, Muna and her family lived peacefully and relatively prosperously in Mogadishu, the capital city, during her early childhood.
In 1991, however, a deteriorating economy, shifting political parties and rise in inter-clan tension plunged the country into civil war. Muna’s household was targeted and raided by rebel groups, her mother was severely beaten and the family was forced to flee to the countryside, leaving behind all their belongings and many loved ones, including her father.
Life in the countryside was peppered with rebel raids, lack of food and persistent fear. Muna was not able to play outside as the villages were never safe; being inside brought no guarantees of safety. One day while Muna’s aunt fed her baby and read the Koran aloud to the family after preparing a meal, she was caught in the crossfire. A bullet tore through the house, leaving Muna’s five cousins motherless. Her own mother fled to Dubai to give birth to her youngest brother, leaving him with relatives to return to the war-torn country to be with the rest of her children. Muna and her mother would not see her brother again until they reunited in the U.S. 12 years later.
During the clan warfare of the 1990’s an estimated 300,000 Somalis died and 1.5 million were forced to flee to refugee camps in neighboring countries – the majority landing in the Dadaab refugee camp in Kenya, 100 miles from the Somali border. Currently Dadaab hosts 230,000 Somali refugees in a 50 square km area, relying heavily on foreign aid to sustain livelihoods. Muna explains that only about 30% of Somalia’s pre-1960 population remains, the rest have fled. Without connections to the U.S., Somali Refugees must win a lottery to be granted immigration rights, of which approximately 43,000 enter the U.S. annually.
In 2000, at the age of 14, Muna, her mother, and 4 siblings were granted immigration to the Unites States through connections with relatives living in Europe. They arrived in Los Angeles where Muna attended public school for the first time as an eighth grader, illiterate in Somali and unable to speak English. L.A. public schools did not offer any ESL classes and she often was expelled or kicked out of class for misbehaving. The family quickly relocated to Portland seeking a Somali community and greater support. Here Muna connected with Portland’s Immigrant and Refugee Community Organization (IRCO), which became instrumental in helping her learn English, catch up to her classmates and begin excelling in school. She attended IRCO’s homework club where bilingual staff worked with her every day to learn English and complete her homework. Today Muna offers the same help to Hacienda’s Somali residents while pursuing a bachelor’s degree in International Relations at PSU. She hopes to become an advocate for her people and refugee populations everywhere, with the ultimate goal of working for the United Nations.
Muna is passionate about providing Somali youth with the support she so desperately needed as an 8th grader. About “80% of Somali kids [participating in Hacienda’s after-school programs] do not have a father, he was either killed in the war or was separated from the family.” Most of Hacienda’s Somali residents have memories of war and witnessed murder of family members and loved ones. Hacienda works with IRCO to provide holistic support to Somali families and youth in ways that are culturally appropriate and sensitive to the needs of refugee populations. Families gain access to a host of workshops and informational meetings to help them adjust to life in the US – like ESL courses, cooking classes, early childhood health classes, community gardening and parenting classes – all culturally appropriate and facilitated by Somali staff.
Supporting refugee and immigrant youth to succeed in school is a cornerstone to all Hacienda does. Muna explains that at home, Somali youth have no resources to help them with homework or English and no understanding of the expectations of formal schooling. “Somebody needs to teach [Somali youth] how to sit properly in class because they never learned that, and they will get kicked out of class if they don’t learn,” Muna says. Muna believes that without the support from Hacienda, these kids would not be able to succeed in school and access opportunity. This Saturday, Muna is taking a group of Somali youth to perform at PSU’s Africa Night where they will take the stage displaying flags from various nations and participate in a night of African food and dance.
Muna was born and raised in Somalia during the advent and escalation of “the war”, as she calls it. Similar to the recent history of many African nations, Somalia was colonized by Italian and British regimes and erupted into chaos after the withdrawal of colonial powers in 1960, experiencing a series of authoritarian leaders and warring clans seeking the power seat. Born into a relatively stable period in 1986, Muna and her family lived peacefully and relatively prosperously in Mogadishu, the capital city, during her early childhood.
In 1991, however, a deteriorating economy, shifting political parties and rise in inter-clan tension plunged the country into civil war. Muna’s household was targeted and raided by rebel groups, her mother was severely beaten and the family was forced to flee to the countryside, leaving behind all their belongings and many loved ones, including her father.
Life in the countryside was peppered with rebel raids, lack of food and persistent fear. Muna was not able to play outside as the villages were never safe; being inside brought no guarantees of safety. One day while Muna’s aunt fed her baby and read the Koran aloud to the family after preparing a meal, she was caught in the crossfire. A bullet tore through the house, leaving Muna’s five cousins motherless. Her own mother fled to Dubai to give birth to her youngest brother, leaving him with relatives to return to the war-torn country to be with the rest of her children. Muna and her mother would not see her brother again until they reunited in the U.S. 12 years later.
During the clan warfare of the 1990’s an estimated 300,000 Somalis died and 1.5 million were forced to flee to refugee camps in neighboring countries – the majority landing in the Dadaab refugee camp in Kenya, 100 miles from the Somali border. Currently Dadaab hosts 230,000 Somali refugees in a 50 square km area, relying heavily on foreign aid to sustain livelihoods. Muna explains that only about 30% of Somalia’s pre-1960 population remains, the rest have fled. Without connections to the U.S., Somali Refugees must win a lottery to be granted immigration rights, of which approximately 43,000 enter the U.S. annually.
In 2000, at the age of 14, Muna, her mother, and 4 siblings were granted immigration to the Unites States through connections with relatives living in Europe. They arrived in Los Angeles where Muna attended public school for the first time as an eighth grader, illiterate in Somali and unable to speak English. L.A. public schools did not offer any ESL classes and she often was expelled or kicked out of class for misbehaving. The family quickly relocated to Portland seeking a Somali community and greater support. Here Muna connected with Portland’s Immigrant and Refugee Community Organization (IRCO), which became instrumental in helping her learn English, catch up to her classmates and begin excelling in school. She attended IRCO’s homework club where bilingual staff worked with her every day to learn English and complete her homework. Today Muna offers the same help to Hacienda’s Somali residents while pursuing a bachelor’s degree in International Relations at PSU. She hopes to become an advocate for her people and refugee populations everywhere, with the ultimate goal of working for the United Nations.
Muna is passionate about providing Somali youth with the support she so desperately needed as an 8th grader. About “80% of Somali kids [participating in Hacienda’s after-school programs] do not have a father, he was either killed in the war or was separated from the family.” Most of Hacienda’s Somali residents have memories of war and witnessed murder of family members and loved ones. Hacienda works with IRCO to provide holistic support to Somali families and youth in ways that are culturally appropriate and sensitive to the needs of refugee populations. Families gain access to a host of workshops and informational meetings to help them adjust to life in the US – like ESL courses, cooking classes, early childhood health classes, community gardening and parenting classes – all culturally appropriate and facilitated by Somali staff.
Supporting refugee and immigrant youth to succeed in school is a cornerstone to all Hacienda does. Muna explains that at home, Somali youth have no resources to help them with homework or English and no understanding of the expectations of formal schooling. “Somebody needs to teach [Somali youth] how to sit properly in class because they never learned that, and they will get kicked out of class if they don’t learn,” Muna says. Muna believes that without the support from Hacienda, these kids would not be able to succeed in school and access opportunity. This Saturday, Muna is taking a group of Somali youth to perform at PSU’s Africa Night where they will take the stage displaying flags from various nations and participate in a night of African food and dance.
