Doing right by refugees

by Petra Gimbad
MY faith in humanity was restored recently after a visit to a police station.

A colleague and I had recently interviewed a refugee seeking reunion with her husband. She was longing to see her husband again and wanted to raise the baby they were expecting together.

During the week leading up to the interview, I slept fitfully: fearing that the stress of narrating her story of what happened during the war back home would lead her to miscarry. Words cannot express how grateful I am that did not happen.

Thanks to this woman, I met D, a Myanmar refugee in his early 20s. D had taken on the responsibility of being legal coordinator for his community. According to him, no one else was doing this work.

In addition, he ran a bakery. “Refugees want to go to America, but they don’t think of what comes after. What are they going to do, work in a shop? If they can run a business, they can be better off. This is what I am trying to teach,” he said.

Moved, I gave him my number and told him to call if I could be of assistance.

Twelve hours after we parted ways, I got the call. It was 12.30am. D apologised for the late call and said that a few members of his community were arrested. Two of them were teenage boys. One of the teenagers was due to be at the UNHCR at 4am as he was leaving for America with his family to be resettled.

“In three and a half hours?”

“Yes.”

I started cursing in my head, before asking at which police station they were held. He asked whether I was coming, and I said, “Yes.”

A period of silence followed by “You mean, you are coming? You are coming to the station?” His voice sounded incredulous and relieved.

When I heard his relief, I wanted to cry.

Refugees encounter difficulty in convincing Malaysians to appear on their behalf at police stations. This is an irrational fear: it is the refugee who risks whipping and imprisonment, not the Malaysian with a valid IC.

I could not let this young man head to a police station in the middle of the night alone.

In the taxi, I called and texted lawyer friends for advice. One said, “You have no hope. Unless you get a sympathetic investigating officer, do not expect to get anyone out.”

Text advice kept coming: “Are you sure you are accomplishing anything by going down?”

Sheepishly, I responded again and again: “I am already in the taxi.” All I knew was that I could not let this young man go to a police station alone.

D arrived before I did, but could not obtain permission to see his friends. I spoke to the police officers at the gate, explaining the situation: “Sir, I know you are busy but this boy has been accepted into America and he needs to be at the UNHCR by 4am.”


I was ready to beg for an officer to accompany the boy, if necessary, to the UNHCR until someone could verify what was going on. We had no proof as the UN held his travel documents. The officers asked for his name, and I provided the names of the boy and his friends.

Then, I called my lawyer friend desperately for more ideas. While we were on the phone, 10 minutes later, I heard a shout. A group of four young men emerged from the gates. D and I looked at each other. We did it.

He later asked me whether I am experienced in getting refugees out. I told him that this was my first time, and he started to laugh.

I will always be grateful to the police officers who were on duty that night for releasing the boy and his friends.


When we arrived at the UNHCR, all was quiet. Refugees boarding the plane that day were gathered outside the gates and the UN staff had yet to arrive.

There was a hush outside the gates. Each and every refugee had hope on their faces. I had never seen light in a refugee’s face before. It was the most holy and sacred experience I have had in a long time. Among them was a woman dressed in a flowing garment. I wondered why. Then, I realised, it was to accentuate her pregnant belly. A hand grasped the hand of her little boy while the other felt for her unborn child. Radiating from her face was that light.

D and I hugged the boy goodbye, and made our way home before dawn.


The writer thanks all police officers, lawyers and individuals involved, and the UNHCR for helping in refugee resettlement. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com