A week afÂter the UnitÂed States govÂernÂment reÂsetÂtled them in ConÂnecÂtiÂcut this sumÂmer, Nur Ali and his wife, Mahado MoÂhaÂmed, had deÂcidÂed: They were movÂing to Minnesota.
Tales of the state's large SoÂmaÂli comÂmuniÂty had inÂtrigued them back in the KenÂyan refÂuÂgee camp where they had marÂried and had five chilÂdren. Now, a SoÂmaÂli man they met in Hartford told them all reÂcent arÂriÂvals head to Minnesota, home of "Little MogaÂdisÂhu."
After a major dip in 2008, the yearÂly numÂbers of new SoÂmaÂli refuÂgees in Minnesota have reÂbounded steadÂiÂly. The numÂber of SoÂmalis reÂsetÂtled in the state has more than tripÂled in four years. As resettlements nationally have picked up, more SoÂmalis are also arriving here after brief stints in other states — often trading early support from resettlement agencies for the company of more fellow Somalis.
"You tend to go someÂwhere you can conÂnect," said MoÂhaÂmud Noor, the head of the ConÂfedÂerÂaÂtion of SoÂmaÂli Community in Minnesota. "BeÂfore peoÂple even arÂrive from AfÂriÂca, they know they are comÂing to Minnesota."
But without the Twin Cities family ties of earlier arrivals, these newcomers often can't lean as heavily on longer-term Somali residents. Mary's Place, a Minneapolis homeÂless shelÂter, has beÂcome ground zero for famiÂlies like Ali and MoÂhaÂmed's. Somali participation in the state's public food assistance program doubled in the past five years. Meanwhile, the Minneapolis School District, its SoÂmaÂli stuÂdent enÂrollÂment up 70 percent since 2011, launched eight classÂrooms with inÂstrucÂtion in both EngÂlish and SoÂmaÂli to help newÂcomers catch up.
In some ways, Ali and MoÂhaÂmed have had a steepÂer learnÂing curve than SoÂmalis who setÂtled in Minnesota in the 1990s and early 2000s. The couÂple spent their enÂtire aÂdult lives in tents at KenÂya's sprawlÂing, overÂcrowdÂed Hagadera refÂuÂgee camp. They didn't have famÂiÂly or close friends who reÂsetÂtled in America beÂfore them, and their noÂtion of life in the UnitÂed States was forged out of camp legÂend.
"We alÂways used to think when you come to America, you have a lot of monÂey and life is reÂalÂly easy," Ali said through a transÂlaÂtor. "We have been surÂprised."
Ali and Mohamed are part of a new wave of Somali refugees. Until 2008, the state resettled only refugees reuniting with family here.
But that year, DNA tests showed only about 20 percent of apÂpliÂcants in a refÂuÂgee famÂiÂly reÂuÂniÂfiÂcaÂtion program, most of them from AfÂriÂca, were acÂtuÂalÂly reÂlated to their stateside sponsors. The program was susÂpendÂed, even as SoÂmalis arÂgued a broadÂer defiÂniÂtion of famÂiÂly was as much a factor as fraud. The numÂber of new SoÂmaÂli arÂriÂvals plumÂmetÂed, from a high of more than 3,200 in 2006 to 180 in 2009.
MeanÂwhile, more strinÂgent backÂground checks for refuÂgees in 2010 snarled the apÂpliÂcaÂtion procÂess. LarÂry BartÂlett, the U.S. RefÂuÂgee AdÂmisÂsions program diÂrecÂtor, says the streamÂlinÂing of seÂcuriÂty checks since and the reÂsumpÂtion of the famÂiÂly reÂuÂniÂfiÂcaÂtion program in 2012 led to the reÂcent inÂcrease in SoÂmaÂli arÂriÂvals — a trend he exÂpects to conÂtinÂue in the next few years.
In the fisÂcal year that endÂed in SepÂtemÂber, Minnesota welÂcomed alÂmost 1,050 SoÂmaÂli refuÂgees arÂrivÂing diÂrectÂly from AfÂriÂca, most of them withÂout famÂiÂly ties to the state. NaÂtionÂalÂly, 9,000 SoÂmalis were reÂsetÂtled, up from about 2,500 in 2008.
No 'out-migration'
The exÂact numÂbers of SoÂmalis moving to Minnesota from othÂer states are hard to track. But there's little doubt their ranks have swelled, too. The federal Office of RefÂuÂgee Resettlement comÂpiles partial numbers showing about 2,620 total refÂuÂgee arÂriÂvals from othÂer states in 2013, up from 1,835 two years earliÂer — making Minnesota the state with the highÂest in-miÂgraÂtion by far.
"This has alÂways been an isÂsue for Minnesota," said Kim Dettmer of Lutheran SoÂcial Service, one of the agÂenÂcies that helps reÂsetÂtle refuÂgees who come diÂrectÂly to Minnesota. "We have in-miÂgraÂtion. We don't reÂalÂly have out-migration."
AfÂter arÂrivÂing from Kampala, UÂganÂda, Ayan Ahmed and her nine chilÂdren, ages 4 to 18, spent six months in PhoeÂnix. There, Catholic Charities had lined up a furÂnished four-bedÂroom home for the famÂiÂly and a neuÂrolÂoÂgist for Ahmed's eldÂest son, who is blind.
But then, some fiÂnanÂcial supÂport Ahmed reÂceived as a refÂuÂgee was about to dry up, and she worÂried about covÂerÂing her $1,200 rent. Most SoÂmaÂli famiÂlies she met in PhoeÂnix were longtime resiÂdents, the strugÂgles of adÂjustÂing to a new counÂtry long behind them. They urged her to go to Minnesota and raised monÂey for the plane tickÂets.
Ahmed, who is staying at Mary's Place, says local Somalis have picked up groceries and takeout food for her, and lent a compassionate ear: "Some days, I feel I stayed in Mogadishu."
Challenges for newcomers
Ali, a five-month pregÂnant MoÂhaÂmed and their kids arÂrived in Minneapolis four months ago withÂout a deÂtailed plan. They had used up most of their refÂuÂgee cash payÂments for the plane tickÂets.
At the airÂport, they met a SoÂmaÂli cabdriver who ofÂfered to drive them to Village Market, a SoÂmaÂli mall in south Minneapolis. The famÂiÂly went to the mosque inÂside the mall, prayed and asked for help. A SoÂmaÂli famÂiÂly agreed to put them up for the night and took them to Mary's Place the next day. There, the couple, their five older children and newÂborn daughÂter sleep on three bunk beds in their tidy aÂpartÂment.
In some ways, things are lookÂing up: Ali is takÂing EngÂlish classÂes and reÂcentÂly found a full-time job as a butchÂer in a haÂlal marÂket. They have health inÂsurÂance and food stamps. But they have found they can rely only so much on local SoÂmalis, who are busy with their own lives. And saving up enÂough monÂey to move into their own place is an eluÂsive goal that weighs heavÂiÂly on Ali.
With limÂitÂed ties to the local SoÂmaÂli comÂmuniÂty, reÂcent SoÂmaÂli arÂriÂvals face a new set of chalÂlenÂges. Community leadÂers say it used to be unÂthinkÂaÂble that a SoÂmaÂli famÂiÂly should land in a homeÂless shelÂter: NewÂcomers could inÂvoke the most tenuÂous famÂiÂly conÂnecÂtion to move into famously hospitable SoÂmaÂli homes inÂdefÂiÂniteÂly.
But these days longÂer-term resiÂdents reÂcovÂerÂing from the reÂcesÂsion might balk at putÂting up comÂplete strangÂers. MeanÂwhile, afÂfordÂaÂble housÂing for large famiÂlies is scarce, esÂpeÂcialÂly in Hennepin County.
Ironically, community activists such as Abdirizak Bihi say, these newcomers might need more support than earlier arrivals. Many have spent most of their lives in makeshift camps such as Qabri Bayah in Ethiopia, with basic amenities and limited access to formal education.
When these refugees move too soon after arriving in a different state, they get cut off from resettlement agencies there responsible for finding homes and jobs for them. Noor, whose group tries to assist newcomers with navigating the transition, says the fedÂerÂal govÂernÂment needs to do more to disÂcourÂage this early migration. At the U.S. State Department, BartÂlett says staff members strive to honor refuÂgees' host city prefÂerÂence. Some refuÂgees even sign a docuÂment afÂfirmÂing they are going to the city where they want to stay.
"The probÂlem with movÂing quickÂly is that the beneÂfits don't alÂways folÂlow you," BartÂlett said. "We reÂalÂly try to imÂpress that upon them."
Adjusting to the influx
Mary Jo CopeÂland, the foundÂer of Mary's Place, says as many as 60 of the shelÂter's roughÂly 90 units are ocÂcuÂpied by SoÂmaÂli famiÂlies, genÂerÂalÂly reÂcent arÂriÂvals from AfÂriÂca by way of anÂothÂer state. CopeÂland, who hired two SoÂmaÂli-speakÂing adÂvoÂcates to help the famiÂlies with job- and aÂpartÂment-huntÂing and more, says these resiÂdents have imÂpressed her: They take EngÂlish classÂes, keep their apartÂments imÂmacÂuÂlate and save up evÂerÂyÂthing they earn workÂing at day cares, groÂcerÂies and cab comÂpanies.
"You name the state, they are from all over," she said. "As soon as they move out, othÂers move in."
The numÂber of SoÂmaÂli adults and children who participated in the state's famÂiÂly cash asÂsistÂance program jumped 34 percent from 2008 to 2013, to 5,950. At the same time, food asÂsistÂance participation increased 98 percent, to 17,300 adults and children, which does not include U.S.-born Somalis. Census numbers place the Minnesota Somali community at more than 33,000, a count Somali leaders say underestimates its size by tens of thousands.
The Minneapolis School District responded to a maÂjor upÂtick in new SoÂmaÂli stuÂdents by launching the NABAD program, an acÂroÂnym that's also a greetÂing in SoÂmaÂli. The disÂtrict is alÂmost 10 percent SoÂmaÂli this fall. The new classÂrooms — two last year, eight this fall afÂter promÂisÂing early reÂsults — feaÂture an English language learnÂer teachÂer and a SoÂmaÂli-speakÂing aide. Students spend a school year there beÂfore joinÂing the mainÂstream.
At Andersen United Community School, teachÂer Stephany Jallo and her third- through fifth-graders reÂcentÂly went over a picÂture book called "Nabeel's New Pants," about a group of kids who reÂceive clothes as gifts to wear for the IsÂlamÂic holÂiÂday Eid. At each of Jallo's quesÂtions, hands shot up. OthÂer stuÂdents looked to HamÂdi Ahmed, a visitÂing co-teachÂer, who transÂlatÂed into SoÂmaÂli.
Jallo says four of her 20 stuÂdents came with no forÂmal edÂuÂcaÂtion, but most are makÂing rapid progÂress: "I have no doubt I have fuÂture docÂtors, lawÂyers, teachÂers and sciÂenÂtists in my class."
Ali and MoÂhaÂmed's kids also have acÂaÂdemÂic catchÂing up to do. These days, the parÂents worÂry about afÂfordÂing winÂter coats, an aÂpartÂment and furÂniÂture. But when they see their kids crackÂing open their homeÂwork minÂutes afÂter getÂting home — the glass facade of TarÂget Field gleamÂing beÂyond the kitchÂen winÂdow — Ali and MoÂhaÂmed's faces fill with hope.
Mila Koumpilova • 612-673-4781