About 50 of them huddled
around tables last week in the
Virginia Room at the Greensboro
Downtown Marriott, refugees
who fled persecution and
violence in distant nations like
Togo, the Congo, Rwanda and
Vietnam. Many of them had
established lives in Greensboro
only last year, and like everyone
else they’re scraping through
hard times on the employment
front — only more so.
Representatives from a handful
of staffing agencies, Goodwill
and the Guilford County Joblinks
Career Center give cheery,
motivational speeches, but job
offers are scarce. When three
African drummers began to
pound out a thundering rhythm,
the refugees bolted from their
seats and swarmed around the
tables of the presenters.
Before the program began,
Olsten branch manager DeAnna
Turner had been telling Y’Siu
Hlong and Y’Buom
Nie, both
of the Montagnard/Dega Association:
“We hire refugees;
everyone should.”
Olsten does not have a lot
of light industrial work right
now, she said. Most of the jobs
available are clerical.
“We don’t have any current
openings, but we might later
on,” Turner said. She told
the men that Olsten’s clients
require workers with English
speaking ability, especially
a pharmaceutical company
that makes Tylenol gel caps,
because “when you’re working
with medicine you can’t have
miscommunication.” Her basic
message was that the refugees
should be ready for the time
when the economy turns around
— take every opportunity to
improve their English, refine
their resumes and sharpen their
interviewing skills.
Hotounou Victor Messan, a
53-year-old refugee from the
tiny West African nation of Togo,
has fared relatively well since
he arrived in Greensboro last
August. Accounts of chronic
joblessness and the threat of
eviction are common among
nonprofit providers who serve
refugees.
So for Messan to
find work at American Staffing
Resources and later land a
restaurant dishwashing job for
32 hours a week has to count
as a success. Still, he has to be
mindful to set aside enough
money each month for rent, and
is looking for opportunities to
improve his lot.
When the drummers began to
play, Messan headed straight for
the Labor Ready table and talked
to representative Kawonna
Singletary. Then he went to
the Marketplace Staffing table,
filled out an application and
submitted it.
Refugees don’t typically show
up looking for work at Labor
Ready, Singletary said. The
minimum wage rate for nonskilled
jobs and the fact that
most assignments last only a
day may be a deterrent for some,
she acknowledged. Singletary
said federal stimulus money has
created jobs and as the weather
continues to warm construction
work will likely pick up. The
agency is fielding about 30
workers a day on jobs ranging
from flagging on road jobs to
welding, cleaning motels and
unloading trucks.
Messan wore a heavy flannel
shirt, glasses and a Ford cap,
giving him a working-class
intellectual look that contrasted
with some of the other African
refugees who dressed more
formally in pinstriped jackets
and pressed shirts. Speaking
through an interpreter in
the hotel lobby outside the
conference room, Messan
admitted to frustration with the
minimal support provided by
the US State Department and
the bleak economic prospects,
but made it clear his greatest
challenges stem from the
difficult situation he fled in
Africa.
“I wish the best for the United
States because they saved my
life,” he said.
“I wish the best
for the president. I pray that the
economy gets back to how it
was.”
A nurse active in the opposition
party that wanted to overthrow
the government in Togo, Messan
said he was beaten all over his
body and returned from the
hospital in bandages and plaster
casts to his home. His neighbors
saw a mob coming for him and
spirited him out of his house,
after which the American and
French ambassadors helped
him escape to a refugee camp
in neighboring Benin. That was
in 1999. It would take him nine
years and three attempts to
receive permission to resettle in
the United States.
“There is no democracy,”
Messan said, explaining his
opposition to the Togolese
government. “The people in
authority and in the government
embezzle, and the wealth
doesn’t trickle down to the
people.”
The translator, a woman named
Edith Gibson from Cameroon,
elaborated, describing a
situation common in West
Africa.
“They’re using the country’s
resources to make themselves
filthy rich, while the majority
of the people remain poor,” she
said. “The roads are not repaired,
and the education system is
falling apart. The people have to pay to send their
children to school.” Living in the refugee camp in Benin broke up
Messan’s family, which is the source of his greatest sorrow. Reuniting
them is his primary goal now. “My kids left the refugee camp and went
to the capital city to fend for themselves,”
Messan
said. “My daughter had to do what she had to do to survive, and she got
pregnant. I don’t know where she is…. They can’t go back to Togo. It’s
a dead end.” Messan has six children, and his lady friend has four. He
has seven grandchildren.
“I don’t want anything to do with
Africa,” Messan said. “I want my family to be here. I cannot let go of
Africa right now. My children are not safe.”
