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Community Healing with Refugees

Maryam Obeyd

Imagine that you step off the plane, entering a brand new climate and landscape. You tether safety, grief, and fear. Some friends and family members might join in the future, some could not leave, and some you will not see again. So, a piece of your heart lives in the place where you have traveled from and likely will not return.


For the past two months with the Malama Collective, I have been working with women that have recently relocated from Afghanistan solo or with their children on refugee status. Each week seated together in a circle, the women learned and shared skills together. There were tears, laughter, joy, and witnessing of humanity and heartbreak, all held in community.


The groups were co-facilitated with Friba, a woman born and raised in Afghanistan, relocating five years ago. She provided the bulk of translation, shared her lived experiences with the group, and embodies a naturally compassionate, yet fiery presence. The refugees expressed their safety in diving into deeper realms during our gatherings because of Friba. I shared some of my experiences, being first-generation, daughter of a refugee from Kurdistan. I tethered when to listen and when to speak, acknowledging the privileges that I hold. I was moved by the group’s willingness to take risks of vulnerability within a relational sphere.


Women in Afghanistan are denied basic human rights and are banned from education. I remember one moment during a conversation about a fundraiser for dogs that took place locally over the weekend. And one member sharing in reflection, “can you imagine in one place there are fundraisers for dogs, and in another the people don’t have food.” That hit deeply, as the room digested the silence. The point is not to guilt trip or blame, but to listen and reflect. Can you actually hold that truth of power, privilege, and oppression? Take it deeper, and you are reflecting on your own positioning. Where do you know this positioning from? The unlearning through reflections are a gift.


Through collaboration with the women, we covered specific topics that connected to emotional, spiritual, and empowering realms of shared experiences. I think of Rumi, “You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.” I remember having tears in my car. The women are strong, and have experienced deep pain. Yet they continue to live on through choice, through their faith, through courage and values, and for those they love. These groups are certainly not going to solve the refugee crisis, nor is this an omnipotent quest to, yet there is a connection learned with and learned from when walking with humanity to genuinely feel another’s pain. Perhaps that is one remedy for repairing and remembering after trauma and relocation. In each moment, to offer deep listening and compassion, to embrace what one does not know, and to be willing to unlearn with and learn from someone else. Especially with those who have been historically marginalized and silenced.


In solidarity,

Maryam Obeyd



Photo provided by Human Migration Institute





"What else can you do, when your stage is ember
and your audience is rifle?
You had to do this —
to write poetry with the tip of flame
and set fire to your fear and silence."

Sherko Bekas
Poet and Activist

© 2024 Maryam Obeyd (she/her), MA, LMFT #139072

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