I didn’t choose to flee my country—I was forced to.
Imagine going to bed each night with the fear that your village might be burned before morning. That fear was my reality growing up in the Democratic Republic of Congo, where I was born and raised until I was eighteen. By 2007, violence and persecution had become the norm. Armed groups, political instability, and deep-rooted ethnic tensions fueled widespread atrocities. Torture, displacement, and fear were no longer isolated. They reached every part of society, leaving communities like mine with no safe place to turn.
My parents had no choice but to escape with their eight children. They gathered us and we walked for several hours through the bushes until we reached a town with paved roads. From there, we caught a bus and traveled several hours to cross the border into Burundi and became refugees.
When we arrived in Burundi, we hoped it would not be long before we could return home. But returning was never an option. The war and persecution that forced us out of Congo never stopped to this day. Instead, we spent the next decade in a refugee camp, depending entirely on international assistance for basic needs. Foreign aid programs didn’t just help us survive, they offered a sense of stability and hope in a place where both were in critically short supply.
Refugee camps are not places of stability; they are spaces of survival, made bearable only through sustained international support.
Life there was marred by fear, waiting with constant uncertainty; We lost all hope. Though the camp offered protection from active conflict, life there was far from safe or comfortable. We lived without electricity, built our shelter from mud and grass, and survived on limited monthly food rations distributed by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. Clean water was scarce and often unsafe, and access to medical care was minimal — allowing even minor illnesses to become serious threats. Refugee camps are not places of stability; they are spaces of survival, made bearable only through sustained international support.
But even in those conditions, my parents taught us to live with dignity and care for others. We were raised with the values of Ubuntu— “I am because we are.” This is an African belief that our humanity is shared. That spirit of resilience helped us survive, along with the support of foreign aid and a resettlement system that gave people like us a pathway to safety. After a decade of enduring instability in a foreign country and yet another round of vetting, my family finally received that chance. We found refuge in Louisville, Kentucky, a place we now proudly call home.
On this World Refugee Day, we are not just raising awareness, we are calling for action. Since the Trump administration took office in January, the U.S. refugee program has been dismantled. Admissions were paused, foreign aid was drastically cut, and thousands of families were separated. I have family in refugee camps who have waited for almost two decades for a chance at safety and hope. After extensive vetting and being cleared to travel, they were told at the last minute that their plans were cancelled, which meant that they did not matter. That’s why it’s critical to urge Trump’s administration:
- Reopen and fully fund the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program (USRAP)
- Reinstate and safeguard funding for refugee resettlement infrastructure and humanitarian pathways
- Protect and increase foreign aid and humanitarian assistance that provide life-saving support and create global stability
In my current role overseeing refugee workforce development across Kentucky, I meet refugees every day who are actively contributing to our communities. What they contribute far exceeds the short-term support they receive through initial resettlement programs.
They are not a burden—they are a benefit to this country. They pack our food, build our homes, and take care of our loved ones even though many have credentials to do more. Refugees stay in jobs longer than native-born, raise families, pay taxes, and help local businesses grow. But beyond all they contribute, even though it mostly goes unnoticed, refugees deserve protection because they are human beings with dignity, dreams, and the right to live in safety.
Narratives that they are criminals couldn’t be further from the truth. Refugees go through one of the most rigorous vetting processes in the world, including extensive background checks, biometric screenings, and multi-agency interviews. If those myths were true, we would never have made it through the system. Refugees are not looking for sympathy. We seek opportunities and a chance to live in peace with our families. Family separation doesn’t just affect those overseas, it devastates families here. We cannot claim to value families while closing the very programs that allow them to be whole again.
So, I ask you: Join me. Stand with FCNL. Call on Trump’s administration to restore and strengthen the refugee resettlement program and the foreign aid that makes it possible. Do it for the families still waiting. Do it for those already here separated from their beloved ones. Do it for the families that need caretakers. Do it because everyone deserves to live with dignity.
