We don't share very much, just a little from our hearts

A lonely adventure

To escape war, persecution, oppression, and other dangers, hundreds of children embark on perilous journeys by sea, air and land to reach the Malaysian coast.

Most of them are between 13 and 17 years old, but some are as young as five.

Some of them have relatives or friends to family waiting for them here, but according to data from the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), about 800 of them actually come alone.

They were left to fend for themselves in a foreign country whose name most of them had never heard of, before the moment they were sent here in the hope of safety.

Vulnerable to oppression and exploitation, they are a population of asylum seekers whose existence is unknown to most Malaysians.

These young children do not have many avenues for formal schooling, so they become child laborers and face the risk of being detained by immigration authorities because under Malaysian law, asylum seekers are no different from undocumented immigrants.

Those who are lucky, meet with organizations that help provide them with shelter, education and foster families that will care for them until they are 18 years old. Or they have the opportunity to be resettled in another country by the UNHCR. However, due to funding constraints faced by NGOs, not all of these children will succeed in getting such an opportunity. This is their story, as told to Aidila Razak.

"We don't share very much, just a little from our hearts." - Zarif & Zurina

When Zarif tells her about the young refugee who is homeless, depressed and thinking of suicide, Zurina’s heart is touched. As a mother to a teenager, she could not imagine if her own child was stranded in a foreign country, sleeping in the park area, no one.

"I told Zarif, 'bring him here'," he said.

Late that night, Zarif received a phone call about the teenager - Ali* - who had left Afghanistan alone a few months earlier. He almost lived a homeless life on the streets.

And he almost wanted to commit suicide, because he could no longer survive such a difficult life. Thinking about that possibility, Zurina couldn't.

At the age of 19, Ali was only a few years older than Zurina and Zarif’s son, but when Ali arrived at their home, his body size was twice as small as their son’s.

"She looks like 14 years old. And he smiled. My heart continues to open, "said Zurina.

"I told him, you can call me mama." He also decided on Ali as his son.

Ali is among many other young refugees who take dangerous journeys to foreign places, to escape danger in their place of origin. It seems that many have finally reached Malaysia.

According to the UNHCR, there are about 800 refugees under the age of 18 who do not have a guardian in Malaysia. Some are completely alone, some have families waiting for them here, and some are separated from their parents on the way here.

This is a small fraction of the 177,920 refugees registered with the UNHCR in Kuala Lumpur in July. However, when it comes to unaccompanied child refugees, "no one is considered too many", Michelle Fong, of the UNHCR's child protection and gender-based violence unit, told Malaysiakini.

This does not include many more who are not registered with the UNHCR, or other young refugees like Ali, who are no longer minors, but still need support like a 17 -year -old.

Some refugees are sent by parents who hope distant relatives and neighbors abroad can help their children and keep them safe. Others, like Ali, get here because Malaysia is among the countries that grant visas to citizens from his country.

Many of them have never heard of Malaysia before.

Assassination plan

Ali’s story begins in a village in Afghanistan. As is usual with other children, he is quite rebellious and does not like to be controlled. In his childhood he climbed trees and wrestled with goats. That was a wonderful time for him.

As part of a large clan, Ali’s life was comfortable. Sometimes he tells Zurina and Zarif, there are bombs "but not always, maybe only once a week". One day, he said, Zurina and Zarif had to visit his village.

But for Ali himself, he could not go home.

As Ali grew older, there was something about him that his own family could not accept - something so sensitive that even the Afghan refugee community in Malaysia rejected him, leaving him alone, until the night Zarif met him.

Ali's adoptive family did not allow the matter to be published on the grounds that it could endanger his life.

One day, when he was supposed to be asleep, he heard his uncle tell his wife that they should poison his food, little by little, so that Ali would die slowly. He told his mother about it and the mother decided, Ali should get out of there.

They had to lie three times for that. They gave an excuse to go to the mosque to pray to cure Ali's "disease" which for other family members, is a reprehensible/disgusting thing. But, the first time, they actually went to a pawn shop to lease her mother’s jewelry. The second time, to get a passport, visa and plane ticket. The third time they went to the airport - that was the last time Ali saw his mother's face.

Looking back on his trip, Ali said he watched Youtube to find out what to do before going to the airport. How to check in, board a plane, where to go during transit - he transits in India - and where to pick up luggage after landing.

In Kuala Lumpur, he went through immigration casually because his mother had obtained him a student visa at a cost of RM12,000. Agents were already waiting for him at the arrival gate.

“The agent took him to a park area in Shah Alam and left him there. Ali told us he got there at about 6am. He just sat there, did not know what to do, "said Zarif.

"She's just sitting there waiting for someone."

The sun went down. The Maghrib Azan resounded and darkness enveloped. She waited in fear.

At 8 p.m., someone came.

The agent had told Ali that he was only paid to pick up Ali at the airport. That's all. He however told his friends about what happened. One of them came looking for Ali.

It was he - a postgraduate student - who dumped Ali. They became good friends and roommates in his studio apartment. Ali later got a job as a restaurant assistant and also paid for house expenses. His friend took Ali to the UNHCR, helped him for an interview session so that he could be registered as a refugee, taught him about the related intricacies.

However, when Covid-19 struck, his friend had finished his studies and would return to Afghanistan. Ali may lose his job at the restaurant. He was alone - depressed, suicidal, and then from that, Ali met Zarif and Zurina.

The peak of fear

Today, a few months after that night, they cannot imagine living without Ali in their family.

"He opened our hearts," said Zarif. "The way he sees things - he tells me that Malaysia is so beautiful and green that he wants to embrace Malaysia - it gives us a different perspective."

Although Zurina and Zarif consider Ali an adopted child, they know it is not legally bound. There is no longer a way to adopt Ali because he is no longer a child.

Despite allowing the UNHCR to operate in the country, Malaysia did not sign the 1951 Refugee Convention and did not have an asylum system related to the status and rights of refugees. Ali is considered an illegal immigrant.

This means he can be arrested by the immigration authorities at any time and face an uncertain future. Zurina and Zarif could also be convicted of keeping illegal immigrants. This is why they refused to use their real names when interviewed by Malaysiakini. The same goes for Ali's name.

The couple said they were more scared now because of rising xenophobia sentiments after the government took tougher measures against illegal immigrants following the Covid-19 pandemic.

"With this situation, it is not safe to leave the house," said Zarif, who forbade Ali to go out to find work and help the household financially.

Stuck at home, one day Ali decided to cook Afghan food, with his sister’s guidance. That was the first time he made mantu, a kind of beef dumpling. For his adoptive family, that was the best dumpling they had ever eaten.

She is more diligent in cooking at home. Zurina and Zarif were inspired to start a home catering business so that she could earn some pocket money.

Ali's customers are mostly relatives and friends of Zurina and Zarif. Ali cooks and Zarif makes the delivery. Then they don't have enough hands.

"Ali said, he hopes his sister will also be there to help him, because in his house before, Ali did not have to cook or wash clothes," said Zurina.

Eventually, Ali's wish came true.

After the state border was reopened, the family returned to Zarif village in Penang to introduce their new son to his mother.

In the middle of the trip, Zarif's phone rang - from Aliza Haryati Khalid. Aliza was a friend who at the time headed the Malaysian Social Research Institute (MSRI), an organization that helped refugees in Kuala Lumpur.

He said: “I'm sorry, I have to ask for your help because I'm stuck. Can I drop him off at your house? ”

This time too, the couple answered yes.

When they arrived from Penang, Aliza and Alia* were already waiting for them in their apartment. As they sat in the living room, Alia, a 16 -year -old Afghan girl, with long hair and plump cheeks, sat hugging her knees in one corner, unable to look at anyone.

"She is very small, and very scared," said Zurina. "You think, what has happened to this girl."

Before arriving at Zurina and Zarif’s house, Alia had crossed three different countries, and moved from many shelters.

In his hometown, about 4 a.m., his mother woke him up, asked him to be quiet and packed some clothes into a bag. Without explanation, Alia’s mother supplies her with juice, biscuits, and some money and gives Alia a cell phone.

They sneak out of the house, and meet with an agent before dawn.

"You follow this agent, keep this phone as proof," his mother said. That was the last time he talked to his mother.

Inside the phone, were stored pictures of Alia bruised by her own abusive father. For her mother, there was no choice but to send Alia as far as possible. With his mother’s phone handed to him, there was no way for them to communicate. He didn't even know if his mother was still alive or not.

In Kuala Lumpur, the agent sent him to an Afghan refugee area, and a community leader took him to MSRI. The NGO helped raise funds to help the community give him shelter. But soon, the funds dwindled, an epidemic struck, and his adoptive family could no longer afford to feed him.

Desperate to find a shelter for the girl, Aliza contacted an old friend, Zarif.

"I told him, no, because we already have Ali, and our house is very small, but he said only a week, so we said OK."

A month, two months, and even three months have passed, and to this day, Zarif and Zurina have yet to call Aliza to ask how much longer Alia will be staying at their house. Alia is now their daughter, sister to their sons. It doesn't feel right for them to say goodbye.

Unrevealed pain

In many ways, for Zarif, this is a letter of destiny.

Ali misses his sister, and through the door of their house, comes a girl who not only speaks her language, but also her dialect.

They found a place to tell stories, someone for them to share their feelings, which is difficult to translate into English or Malay. But they are now learning to master this language quickly.

Sometimes, at night or in the morning after the dawn prayers with Zurina, Alia would cry without words, unable to find words to express the pain she experienced. He just pointed a finger at his chest, and said "sick".

At other times, she’s a teenage girl who loves to laugh, when taking a walk with her adoptive mother at Sephora, or when running around excitedly meeting a hammock in a public park, waving her long hair.

At home, in moments of grief, there were also moments of quarreling and laughing, when he and Ali quarreled in the kitchen. Alia is now an integral part of their catering business.

Her childish attitude led her adoptive parents to believe that she was only 16 - as she claimed - not 21 as stated in her passport. Had they, perhaps his agent put on an older age to facilitate his journey.

They didn't question it - it only upset Alia's emotions, when she seemed untrustworthy for such an important thing.

Soon, a UNHCR assessment interview will be held, and this age factor is likely to change many things in Alia’s life course.

If he is really 16 - still underage - he will be considered more vulnerable than an adult individual, and may qualify to receive other services.

She could be placed under a program that sends unaccompanied underage refugees to foster homes, can be sent to school and ensures their welfare is taken care of.

As a minor girl without an escort, she will be considered more vulnerable, and this will further increase her chances of being relocated to a third country.

But Zurina and Zarif hope that Alia's story will be in line with the details of her passport when interviewed by the UNHCR later. They feared the inconsistency of the story might be detrimental to his asylum application as well as the chances of getting resettlement.

In the end, Malaysia is just a temporary place to live.

As long as Ali and Alia are with them, Zarif and Zurina hope they can support their children’s aspirations.

The best possibility that can be hoped for, is that when they are relocated to a third country in a few more years, where they have a chance to get their rights, they can set foot in the pursuit of their ambitions.

"They are ambitious. They want to go to school, start a business, be a big boss. They don't just think to survive, they also have ambitions, ”said Zurina.

Together with Alia, their small catering business is thriving, and the two teenagers work hard to fulfill orders as their food continues to receive encouraging feedback.

Orders increased, to the point that Zarif could no longer afford to be a courier and they had to use the food delivery service.

"They're very hard working, and they're growing," Zurina said. But, the two teens also shared how they hope that they don’t have to leave their country, their mother, and their sisters.

Together, the family traveled to Afghanistan via Youtube, and the two teenagers told stories about where they grew up. One day, they hope that their new family can meet their birth mothers.

"This trip humbles us. We are not rich people, we also have needs that need to be met. But we are still able to provide something they need - a safe place ”.

"In fact, we don't give very much, just a little of our hearts, a little space in our house, and a little love. That's all".