Journalist reveals why he left his native Ethiopia to seek asylum in Mayo
MICHAEL MINASSIE TELLS OF HIS JOURNEY FROM GREAT OPPRESSION
I LOVE gazing at the stars. It is a fascination with me since my childhood. So, when I first arrived in Ireland, I was struck by one thing and the entry in my diary of May 28, 2022, two weeks after my arrival read: "Where are the stars?"
An August 1, 2022, entry in my journal reads: "It didn't take me long to find out where the real stars of Ireland are - not up on the sky but on the ground.
"Ireland's warmer, shining stars – which, from my scanty reading of stars, are called the “O stars” - are its people."
They are in their multitude throughout the width and breadth of the land. I have been and continue to be invited to their homes, I have made many friends from all walks of life.
The first Irish person I had the honour of knowing was my world history instructor, David Chapple, who has been teaching the subject at Addis Ababa University for over five decades now.
He always arrived to class on the dot. If your watch was not on the hour when he arrived in the class, you could literally reset your watch on his arrival.
So, when I heard the Irish joke about themselves saying they are not serious about time-keeping, it didn’t chime with what I knew.
Mr. Chapple made learning history interesting. He presented it so artfully that we felt we were witnessing historical events unfolding in front of our eyes.
He taught us the history of Ireland - British rule, the Repeal Movement, “An Gorta Mor”, the War of Independence and the Civil War, the Troubles.
He inspired me to dream of becoming a teacher. But apart from six months teaching television production at a local journalism school in Addis Ababa, I didn’t become a teacher.
Fast forward, several decades later and working as a journalist covering the war on Tigray, a series of events set me on a journey that eventually landed me in Mr. Chapple's land.
I come from Tigray, northern Ethiopia, whose history of resistance against colonialism, its misfortunes caused by the vagaries of nature and man, has striking similarities with Ireland except that Ethiopia has never been colonised.
The earlier attempts by colonizers like Ottoman Turkey, Egypt and Italy were repulsed by Tigrayans when Ethiopia was a loose association ruled by provincial kings and chieftains.
Towards the end of the 19th century, other Ethiopians joined with Tigray to foil another attempt by Italy, the late comer into the scramble for Africa with what Mr. Chapple called “insatiable appetite but weak teeth”.
My fondness for gazing at the stars gave me a habit of calm reflection, drawing my focus inwards.
This particularly had a cathartic effect during the early months of the Tigrai War (November and December, 2020) when I, together with dozens of other journalists were running from cavern to cavern trying to dodge bombs that were raining down on villages and towns in the mountainous region of Tigray.
By night, when we didn't have to fear the bomber jets that scoured the skies during the day bombing buildings into ashes and slaughtering civilians, I looked up to the star-studded firmament and snatched a few hours of respite.
But, not long after the war started, the Ethiopian government went on a shopping spree in the United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia, China, Turkey and Iran, for the latest weapons of destruction.
The drones that Ethiopia and its ally Eritrea deployed started to come by night, making the sky not a canvas of nature for me to enjoy and contemplate but one to dread.
We couldn’t put up our satellite gadgets as their reflections and signals became easily traceable by drones, exposing us to attacks.
Three journalists, one of them a friend who went to journalism school with me, were killed in a drone attack on their vehicle.
As unarmed civilians caught in the line of fire and unable to do our jobs, some of us decided to go back to the towns that were at that time controlled by the Federal troops, invading Eritrean forces and militias from a neighbouring region.
Unfortunately I was among 13 journalists from the same station who fell into the hands of Ethiopian soldiers.
We were detained for three days in remote military posts where we were exposed to intense interrogation, psychological torture and threats of execution for being suspected of having links with the resistance movement.
After our release and return to the regional capital, Mekelle, I went underground for fear of arrest and possibly being killed by the security forces.
A colleague and friend of mine who also returned from the mountains was killed by the Ethiopian security on January 20, 2021.
That shocked me to the core. I knew the security forces would find me sooner or later.
So, I decided to travel to the capital Addis Abeba even though Tigrayans were a target of mass arrests there based on their ethnicity. That was the only option if I were to find an exit out of the country.
I continued to live in hiding there for a few months, changing location from time to time until I got a study visa for a short course with Helsinki Espana University Network. It was a huge risk to come out of hiding and I was lucky to get out.
After I attended the course, I headed to Germany to visit my sister as long as my Shengen visa lasted. I was hoping the international pressure in which Ireland played a strong role would help end the war and that I would return home to resume normal life.
This was not to be.
The war got even worse and the mass arrests and killings of Tigrayans continued unabated.
Over a period of two years, the war resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people, as a direct result of conflict and the unprecedented total siege - blocking food supplies and essential services - of a whole region of around 7 to 8 million people, nearly the size of Ireland's population before the famine.
I had to seek asylum in Germany before my visa expired. Unfortunately, my application was not even considered by the German authorities based on the Dublin Convention, signed by 12 European countries on June 15, 1990.
After remaining there in limbo for 11 months (Spain did not respond to a communication from Germany), I came to Dublin to see if I would fare better here.
Thankfully, the authorities in Ireland saw I had a solid case and accorded me international protection.
I now reside happily in Mayo away from my tormentors who targeted me for my identity and for reporting the gross human rights violations in my home country. I live at the Castlebar Accommodation Centre with other asylum seekers and refugees.
When we first came to Mayo, the Castlebar and Ballyhaunis Direct Provision Centrss organised a day out on Carrowniskey beach. Some of the asylum seekers had crossed seas at the risk of losing their lives to escape persecution and war in their respective homes.
At Carrowniskey Strand, they braved Atlantic tides to surf and enjoy the rare sun. Last September, the centre organized a trip to Ireland's holy mountain, Croagh Patrick. It was a tough but rewarding experience for me.
Many friends have been on my side over the last two plus years. An Irish friend who I have the honour to know from back home, now residing in Sligo, connected me to people and supported me as a caring sister would her brother.
I have enjoyed delicious meals at her home, music and poetry in pubs by the Garavogue River, exhibitions, shows at the Model and Hawk's Well Theatre.
Closer to my turf in Castlebar, we visited the National Museum of Ireland Country Life in Turlough.
The amazing display there brought back memories from home as most of Tigray's rural areas are still leading a similar lifestyle to what the Irish experienced decades ago.
An Irish-Ethiopian family in Kerry took me on a memorable trip to some of the best sites of the county: Dingle, the Oceanworld Aquarium there, Killarney, Tralee, Conor Pass and the nearby waterfall.
I continue to visit new places, my plan being to visit all counties of the republic by the end of the year. When I miss my ethnic food, all I need to do is hop on the train to Dublin where a generous family there receives me with open arms.
The government gave me social support for a year and a half. Six months after my arrival, I was granted a work permit, allowing me to be self-reliant and to support my family who are still in Ethiopia awaiting reunification.
A couple of months ago, I was pleasantly surprised when I was told I have the right to vote in the local elections. It appears this did not sit well with some forces in the Irish political landscape, though.
This reality dawned on me one day on Market Square of Castlebar when I was confronted by people with their phone camera trained on me.
“Refugees should not be allowed to vote in Ireland,” they said.
When I asked why they thought so, their maladroit argument was: “Will we be allowed to vote if we go to your country?”
I couldn’t understand why they thought democratic Ireland should have the same yardstick on rights as repressive governments that massacre their own people with impunity.
That incident aside, I grabbed the opportunity given to me not only to exercise my right but also to vote for one of the parties in the Irish government that had been supportive of the Tigrayan cause in the past.
When the plight of the people of Tigray was presented to the UN Security Council eleven times, Ireland was at the forefront. When Ethiopia's arms-suppliers, China and Russia, repeatedly blocked the passing of a resolution on Tigray and when the other big powers, preoccupied by Ukraine, lost interest, Ireland tried to get Tigray, one of the world's gravest humanitarian crises, on to the council's agenda.
I called it “my vote for Tigray” to express my gratitude to all Irish people who, through their representatives at the Foreign Affairs Office, at the Irish Embassy in Addis Ababa, the European Parliament and the UN Security Council, stood on the side of my people.
My volunteering activities in Mayo at Community Radio Castlebar (CRCfm), The Linenhall, NCBI and Southwest Mayo Development Company, are a small way of giving back to the host community that has embraced me.
So, now when I look up at the sky of Ireland and see the few rare stars, I feel the presence of the multitude of shining stars walking by my side.
Those celestial beings also seem to be saying to the fringe elements of hate: “We are watching you.”