Bartamaha (Nairobi):-Aden Mabruk remembers what it was like to sit, silent and mystified, in a South Carolina middle school classroom half a world away from the dusty African refugee camp that had been his home for most of his life.
It was February 2005. The youngster, a member of the persecuted Somali Bantu people, could claim no written language and wasn’t exactly sure of his age – perhaps 12, although a U.S. Customs official decided he looked more like 14 when he arrived with his mother and three younger siblings.
“In our culture, we don’t know exactly our birthday,” he explained.

As rapid-fire English swirled around him at Richland 2′s Dent Middle School, the newly minted eighth-grader decided to simply sit in silence, listening to his teachers and hoping to avoid any conflict with students.
“It was really tough,” he said.
Now, five years later, a smiling Mabruk can claim a high school diploma – as well as a deeper understanding of the English language and a future that he hopes will include college.
He is the first of Columbia’s Somali Bantu students to graduate from high school, fulfilling the dreams of his late father.
“I have no photograph of my father, but I see him in my mind,” Mabruk said. “He would be really happy.”
A journey of miles, years
It has been a long and perilous journey for the Mabruk family, one of about 25 Somali Bantu refugee families who came to South Carolina as part of one of the largest U.S. government refugee resettlement programs in history.
More than 12,000 Somali Bantus were flown to the U.S. after many years of languishing in Kenyan refugee camps.
The Somali Bantusuffered persecu tion and enslavement in Somalia and other parts of the continent for two centuries.
In the 1990s, as Somalia plunged into civil war, the Bantu, mainly living as farmers in southern Somalia, were again targets of warring factions. Their farms, animals and crops were stolen, women raped and men killed.
There was an initial storm of controversy over the Bantus’ settlement in South Carolina when the city of Cayce rejected the federal government’s plan to resettle the 120 Bantu there. Cayce leaders contended that locating all the Bantu families in their small city across the Congaree River from Columbia would be a financial drain and a drag on its public schools.
Eventually, the Bantu, who are Muslim, were placed throughout Columbia, sponsored through Lutheran Family Services and congregations that helped guide the families through the cultural transformation.
As time went on, most of the Somali Bantu families left the Midlands to join other relatives across the United States. Of the original 25 families, only seven remain, said Habeeb Abdullaah, a member of the Islamic Center of Columbia. Those families worship at the mosque, and many of the children, including Mabruk, were tutored in English there.
The families are scattered to places “as far-flung as Washington state to South Dakota,” Abdullaah said.
Despite the language and cultural barriers, the transition to the United States was an exciting one for Mabruk.
St. Peter’s Catholic Church agreed to sponsor the family, and church members were immediately impressed by Mabruk’s drive to succeed.
“He got off of the plane and almost immediately said, ‘I want to learn English,’” said Emily Hero, director of parish life for St. Peter’s Catholic Church.
“He is so driven to learn.”
His siblings, including a younger sister and two younger brothers, are similarly motivated, she said.
“This family was a little different from the other families,” because the father had died in the refugee camp, she said. “I think there was a big commitment on the part of St. Peter’s because she [Mubrak's mom] did not have the spouse.” Aden and his siblings also were helped by a USC tutoring program in his apartment community founded by education professor Doyle Stevick to aid the Somali Bantu children.
Mabruk’s mother works full time and continues her effort to master English.
But her son acknowledges that the Somali Bantu parents still struggle with English even five years after their arrival, while the children have rapidly assimilated.
The Bantu have no written language, so some cannot yet even spell their names.
“I don’t know why right now, a lot of parents really wish they could go back to their country,” he said. “I wish our parents’ dreams could come true, but it’s life.”
‘A part of this family’
As he toiled away at his studies and his English, Mabruk remained largely isolated with a few Somali Bantu friends until he came to Richland Northeast and began to run cross-country.
“I really didn’t have any friends, but cross-country was the main door. I got to know so many people,” he said.
In 2007, he joined the school’s Youth Action Council, which promotes civic engagement and involvement in service projects. “That built up my leadership. That really changed me,” he said.
Kim Sanders, a Richland Northeast guidance counselor and adviser to YAC, remembers the shy, bespectacled boy who came to the tutoring and testing center every day to work on his studies. At first, he could barely speak the language, but when he was asked to invite the faculty to a council event, he practiced and practiced his line until he got it right.
“It was neat to see,” she recalled.
“Here is this boy you barely understand and he is going before the entire faculty to invite them to a service learning luncheon.”
Eventually, Mubrak gained so much confidence and language facility that he made a presentation at a national service learning conference in Nashville, Tenn., last year, she said. But along the way, he also felt open enough to share the struggles of the Somali Bantu community in Columbia.
He became a citizen of RNE, she said. “Long before he could get his U.S. citizenship, he became a part of this family,” Sanders said. “It is a total transformation of this very quiet boy. I know that he will succeed because he has that reliance and perseverance. He is just a phenomenal young man.”
For now, he is focusing his dreams on mastering written English so he can go on to college. He skipped the final week of high school to enroll in an intensive summer English immersion study at USC that began Monday, although he took time off to walk with the 303 other RNE graduates.
For the summer, he will take up residence at the home of his English as a second language teacher, Vickie Westbrook, who is making sure he has transportation to USC for the daily 8 a.m.-5 p.m. classes.
“I am always thinking that I am going to make a difference,” Mubrak said. One day, he said, he may return to Africa. “I always wanted to make a difference, especially with the Somali Bantu children.”

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Source:- thesunnews.com

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