Home is where the hurt is for tormented asylum seekers in Hong Kong
Refugees who escaped torture, kidnapping and death in their home countries tell stories of pain, struggle and hope
Andrew often wakes up with the first rays of daylight without knowing where he is. “Every day, when I fall asleep I am in my country. When I wake up, I am in Hong Kong,” he said.
Past, present and future seem strangely entangled.
“Before I get up, sometimes after having nightmares, I have to think: Where am I? Where am I? Oh, second floor Hong Kong.”
His eyes are a dark and troubled sea of pain. But when harrowing memories of the past vanish for a few seconds and he starts talking about the beauty of his home country – where he can no longer live – they turn bright, big and lively. As if his scars could be healed if he was given the chance to touch the soil of his homeland once again and remain in peace.
Andrew – not his real name – and his family fled their home in Africa fearing political persecution. They arrived in Hong Kong in 2004 with nothing but the clothes on their scared bodies. Any delay in leaving his country – he knew – would result in their death.
Andrew, his wife and three children are some of the very few who saw their protection claims substantiated in Hong Kong.
It took 12 years, several court rulings that obliged the government to improve the city’s screening mechanisms, more than 100 screening interviews and an unbearable emotional burden until they can finally hope to be resettled in a third country and eventually rebuild their broken lives.