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Age 35 / From Sudan
Arrived here in 2007
The ongoing battle between Sudan's government forces and armed rebel groups in the country's Darfur region has resulted in over 300,000 dead and 2.5 million more displaced. The United Nations has called Darfur the world's worst humanitarian crisis today.
Killing and bombing. That was Darfur in 2003. People everywhere were dying; my brother was killed helping others escape. Thousands of families from different villages were fleeing the area. They needed water, food, and animals to carry their children. It took weeks, but we worked together and finally crossed the border into Chad.
I stayed in Chad until 2006. I worked as a guide for Paul Salopek, who was reporting for National Geographic, and we went back to Darfur in August 2006. The situation was no better, and Paul, our driver, Ali, and I were captured by the rebels. They were from my tribe, but they had joined with the government. They kept us for a week, beating and threatening us. They hung Ali and me upside down from trees. Death and bones were everywhere-you could smell it. They turned us over to the Sudanese government. These were the same troops who had killed thousands of my fellow villagers. They showed me a torture chamber and put a gun to my head. The guards threatened to kill me many times. I was prepared to die. Instead, the government sentenced us to 25 years in prison. But the United States and other countries pressured them to release us, and in September, I was granted refugee status.
I went to New Jersey in March 2007. I moved to Baltimore in December and worked with the Darfur Coalition, an advocacy group. I miss Darfur. It's my homeland, and I want to spread the word about the problems there. But life here in the United States is good. It's safe, and I feel like my life is starting over. There's so much here to see and experience. It's a long way from Sudan to the United States.
Immaculée Ilibagiza
Age 39 / From Rwanda
Arrived here in 1998
Rwanda's Tutsi minority and Hutu majority fought for centuries over class and ethnic differences. In 1994, Hutu extremists carried out a gruesome genocide, and as many as 800,000 died.
I was on Easter break from the National University of Rwanda when President Juvénal Habyarimana was murdered. It was 1994, and Hutus were killing the Tutsis—families, kids, soldiers, everybody. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
On the second day, my father told me to go hide at a pastor's house that was close by. Pastor Simeon Nzabahimana hid eight of us in a tiny bathroom in his bedroom. There was no speaking, no talking. We just sat there waiting for the killers, who went from home to home searching. We could hear them outside. Through a window in the bathroom, we could see the killing. They had machetes and spears. At first, when they came into the house, they came right up to the bathroom but never looked in. God saved us. God blinded them. Before they came back the second time, the pastor pushed a wardrobe in front of the door, so then it was hidden.
We were in the bathroom 91 days. We had little to eat, and I lost 50 pounds. Finally, French troops arrived near my village. We snuck out at night and went to their camp. For the first time in months, I could breathe. Then I found out two of my brothers, my parents, and my grandparents had been killed.
I came here on asylum in 1998 and worked with the United Nations. I live in New York with my two children.
I was in the worst situation I could ever imagine—losing everybody and everything. But I have forgiven them now, the killers. Now I feel like a part of the United States. It's home, and I love it here. I want to tell people that the things that we have here in our hands, our possessions, are not what determines who we are. I want to encourage people to be strong and not lose hope.
Sherma Ssaif
Age 37 / From Iran
Arrived here in 1987
The Ayatollah Khomeini led the 1979 Iranian revolution, transforming the state from a monarchy to an Islamic republic. One of his first acts was to root out members of the old United States-backed regime.
My dad was an officer in the Iranian military, part of the security force for the Shah. When the Shah was overthrown, Ayatollah Khomeini's troops stormed the military installations, and if the officers put up a fight, they'd kill them. Lots of people fled Iran, but my dad would not leave his command. When the rebels took over his base in Tehran, they put him in jail. After three months, they let him go. He told me how they tied him up and put a gun to his head and shot blanks. They wanted the names and locations of his friends and fellow officers. My dad told me he never broke down, because if he had told them anything, he wouldn't have been of any value and they'd have killed him.
One day, in 1983, when I was in eighth grade, I found my dad at home with three men. They held out a piece of paper and said, "This is your execution warrant. Say goodbye to your son." He gave me a hug and a kiss, then whispered, "Don't tell them anything." My dad had been part of a group that was planning a coup against Khomeini's government. The men told me that my dad was a traitor and he was going to die. But then I heard the front door slam and saw my father running down the street. The guys started chasing him. They came back a few minutes later, and one of the guys put a gun to my head, screaming, "Where did he go?!" I remembered what my father had told me. So I kept quiet. Dad eventually escaped to Pakistan in 1983 and a year later went to Turkey.
My mother, brother, and I tried for several years to leave the country. Finally, in 1985, we bribed the right guy, and we were issued passports. We didn't tell anyone. We were scared someone would blow the whistle on us. We boarded a plane for Istanbul. I was shaking. I just knew somebody was going to stop us. Even when we were up in the air, I was waiting for the plane to be turned around.
But we made it, and Dad met us in Istanbul. Two years later, we moved to Orange County, California. My goal became to experience America. So for college, I applied all over the Midwest to see what it was like. For dental school, I decided to go to the East Coast. Then I joined the Navy in 1998. Soon after, I earned my dental degree at the University of Pittsburgh and was working at the Pentagon on 9/11. I remember hearing this huge explosion and then seeing the smoke and fire. I helped pull people from the burning building and did what I could for them. Since 2005, I've lived in Virginia Beach, Virginia, and I am in the Navy Reserve.
I think I've done a good job experiencing America so far.
Editors' note: Saif was given the Navy-Marine Corps medal for valor for his heroism on 9/11.
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