Azad Izzeddin feels nervous every time he passes a demonstration in Dublin. Even though he knows he is living in a western country far from the human-rights abuses in his own home, his subconscious is filled with trepidation at the mere sound of a group of people walking the streets of the Irish capital calling for change.
“People are completely free here. Everybody is protected and they have rights. When demonstrations happen here I can’t join them because that fear is part of my life. I can’t get rid of that in just three years.”
He was working as an English teacher in Saudi Arabia when the conflict began in Syria in 2011. Having studied English literature at university and completed his mandatory service period in the Syrian army, the young teacher wanted to develop his language skills abroad.
“When my father was in high school he studied French, but he was very bad at it and wanted his children to be good at a second language. There are four of us in my family who are graduates of English literature.”
Sadly, his parents did not live to see their son speak his fluent English. His mother died of breast cancer when he was a child, and he grew up with two sisters, five brothers and his father, who died nine years ago from hepatitis and diabetes.
Izzeddin left Saudi Arabia in 2013 and returned home to the city of Qamishlo, close to the border with Turkey and Iraq. Under the Syrian government’s regime, Kurds had been continuously denied basic human rights. However, since the outbreak of the conflict, Kurdish people had taken advantage of the power vacuum by initiating a form of autonomous rule in the north and northeast of the country.
“We developed our own strategy towards the Syrian revolution. We had always been victims under the Syrian regime’s policies, but now we had become stronger and could control a little bit.”
Izzeddin became increasingly aware of the dangers he and his family faced as the fighting intensified and Islamic State gained control of Syrian towns and cities. “You’re in a constant state of fear and don’t know when it’s going to erupt and when Syrian warplanes will start bombing. Western people from Europe cannot imagine what it’s like. No matter how much I tell you, you cannot imagine because you haven’t seen it.
"I knew that a lot of people were travelling to Europe, so I already had that in mind. But we had not had freedom for 100 years and then all of a sudden you could go on the streets and carry the Kurdish flag and say 'I'm Kurdish'."
Risks of protesting
He knew the risks of protesting against the regime but still chose to take part in demonstrations. One day he received a call from relatives saying his cousin had been arrested for participating in a rally. Izzeddin immediately fled his home and spent the following six weeks in hiding, looking for a smuggler to get him out of Syria. He later discovered his cousin had been beheaded.
He crossed the border into Turkey and travelled to Istanbul. In December 2013 he boarded a flight to Spain, en route to Ireland, using a forged Swedish passport organised by a smuggler. He was instructed to walk straight through Dublin Airport on arrival, but Irish immigration authorities spotted the forged passport and threatened to deport him back to Spain.
“Immediately I said ‘I am seeking asylum’. They didn’t want to listen at first but then they took my finger prints and brought me to a direct provision centre in Dublin 11. I was in Europe and they have human rights here, so at least I knew I wasn’t going to be tortured to death. Whatever happened, it was going to be okay.”
He had to wait a month for gardaí to analyse his Syrian identity card before he was formally accepted as an asylum seeker. He was transferred to a direct provision centre in Limerick and four months later was given refugee status.
As a vegetarian, Izzeddin struggled to eat the food served in the centre and lost 11kg while surviving on a diet of yoghurt and tea.
"I was literally starving when I moved out and started to cook for myself."
He moved to Dublin and successfully applied for a master’s in applied linguistics at Trinity College, but he was forced to turn down his place when he discovered he would have to pay more than €16,000 in fees as a non-EU citizen. He needed to spend at least three years in his new Irish home before being eligible for EU fees.
"My life was put on hold for three years. I should have finished a master's degree and started a PhD by now. Trinity is one of the best universities in the world, but they should lead by example with this."
Trinity at last
He ended up doing a course in advanced business at Rathmines College before applying to Trinity again. This time he was offered the course at the lower price, and in September 2016 he began classes.
The 34-year-old’s fluent English has made it much easier to integrate into Irish society, particularly when he trains at a boxing gym near the city centre.
“I’d never boxed before in Syria because we didn’t have a boxing gym, at least not in my city. At first when you finish you feel wrecked, but it gives you a very clear head. It gives you self-confidence and brings all the tension outside your body. It gives you a chance to socialise and get out of home. I’ve made a very kind circle of friends through it.”
He tries to use boxing as a coping mechanism to come to terms with the conflict in his home country, but he finds it impossible to ignore the constant stream of reports coming from Syria.
“The war in Syria is taking over my mind. You’re on Facebook and YouTube, and every day you watch it. It’s part of our life now. We have to live with it.”
We would like to hear from people who have moved to Ireland in the past five years. To get involved, email newtotheparish@irishtimes.com. @newtotheparish
