The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Jan 30, 2022 | Read | 0 comments

THE AZALEA INITIATIVE WOMEN’S LEADERSHIP PROGRAMME went through its first chapter’s series of modules over the 15th and 16th of January at Akar Umbi House. Twelve refugee women aged 17 to 34, some of whom had only met each other the week before for an introductory session, had now come by car and train from their communities. They had come to learn not just from Akar Umbi, but from each other. They had come to learn about leadership.
In Malaysia, refugees such as these women have lives harder than most. They have fled persecution and suffering to come to a country that is not their home, a country that gives them the merest of welcomes. Very few rights of theirs are recognised: they cannot legally go to school, or work, or get housing; they are called economic migrants or worse, detained and deported. They have lost the stability of community, of language and culture, and are kept in an interminable limbo of wondering when they can find a new place to set down their roots.

But to stamp them from this mould is to do a disservice, for people are more than the circumstances in which they are placed.

Left: Chen (in red), the impact driver for Akar Umbi Society and Azalea Initiative programme coordinator, leads the ladies into a group discusion.
ON A JOURNEY

Chapter one started like this: Who am I?

“Our lives are like a journey,” said Chen Li, Impact Driver of Akar Umbi and the programme coordinator of the Azalea Initiative. Everyone changes as they journey, but some travel farther than most. From Afghanistan, Pakistan, Somalia, and Myanmar to Malaysia, the effects of the refugees’ forced migration have to be processed and understood. Perhaps I have a degree, but now I work a menial job. I have lost people whom I loved. I had great plans for my life and for my children’s lives – now I am a refugee. 

Yet people are hardy and resilient. Everyone has a way of enduring hardship, even if that way may have been invisible to us before. Each of us has a core of strength. When we acknowledge our loss, we begin to heal. When we learn to recognise our strength, we can move from insecurity to self-confidence. For some of these women, the struggles they’ve faced have empowered them to be bold and courageous. They are driven and motivated, and willing to share what they’ve learnt with their friends.

SAFE SPACES

It is not easy to speak of trauma, which is why it’s essential to create a safe space. It means creating an environment and culture free from judgement and interruption, and filled with love, patience, understanding, empathy. A safe space means taking the time to be present with one another.

Cecil, who helped run sessions on self-care, agrees on the importance of creating a space where people can be vulnerable. As coordinator in SUKA Society for Anti-Trafficking in Persons initiatives, Cecil recognised the pain and grief these women were holding. Even as the women laughed and talked, she could see the tension of their shoulders beneath their hijabs, how their eyes searched inwards when the conversation strayed too close to their hearts. The women took breathers to relax and reflect when they needed it.

Yet with time and space, these women found their courage to speak openly of what they had lost. They wrote letters to say what they’ve kept hidden in their hearts, secreting themselves in the alcoves of the Akar Umbi House. They recaptured those stolen opportunities to say goodbye to the people who mattered in their lives, sharing for the first time in their lives. Some had not realised that others had faced what they had gone through. Often, people hide their struggles because of cultural norms. What a relief to realise that one is not alone in grief!

One woman marvelled: “We come together for happy moments, but not for the sad ones.” Why do we not?

 

Above: Cecil (in green), is the coordinator of the Anti-Trafficking in Persons work with SUKA Society. She is one of the facilitators in the Azalea Intiative.
COMMON GROUND

Food drifted in, Afghan cuisine catered from the community for lunch and cakes for tea. Over the meals, the women got to know each other and the facilitators more. There is a closeness that comes from being vulnerable with one another. Kevin, Storyteller for Akar Umbi and programme assistant in the Azalea Initiative,  assisted with logistics and documentation, and sessions on communications and media, saw that bond of friendship blooming. Though the women spoke several languages and came from many cultures, their experiences had transcended their differences. Where the English was too difficult, some stepped up to help translate for their new friends.

 

Another session touched on the people in their lives. Who are our supports? Who are our teammates, our coaches? Whether they are still with us or whether they are not, the people who walked with us have had a great impact on us as individuals. We learn our values from our parents, life lessons from friends and teachers. When we seek to be leaders, knowing who our supports are is essential. And when we know where our support systems are, we want to help others build their own support systems. These women have begun to see each other as supports, too. 

As the hours drew long, Vic Qi, a volunteer facilitator, helped to centre and recharge the women with body movement exercises, guiding them in stretches and relaxation. On meeting with refugees for the first time and being inspired by their stories, she spoke a truth—when we help others, we too are helped by them.

DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGH

The stories that we tell others are almost as important as the stories we tell ourselves. Are we lonely, or are we independent? Am I broken, or am I resilient? The women worked through the defining moments in their life reflecting on the facets and perspectives they saw, alone or in groups, finding spaces to talk with one another. They sought out the beauty in their sorrow. As Cecil put it, you are what you are. Don’t let others write your story.

Leadership—true leadership—comes from within. When we recognise ourselves as worthy, as strong, as resilient, as capable: that is who we become. 

The Azalea is a seasonal flowering plant not native to Malaysia. In the warmth and wet of spring that comes after a cold winter, they begin to bloom. They drink deep from the earth and flower in great splashes of red and pink, almost as if shouting to say: I am here! Am I not wondrous?

The Azalea Initiative Women’s Leadership Programme intends to conclude in July 2022 with developed impact projects from the twelve women.

Article by Elliot Tan.
Elliot is a Diploma of Social Work student at MCKL who is interning with Akar Umbi Development Society

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Jan 30, 2022 | Read | 0 comments

THE AZALEA INITIATIVE WOMEN’S LEADERSHIP PROGRAMME went through its first chapter’s series of modules over the 15th and 16th of January at Akar Umbi House. Twelve refugee women aged 17 to 34, some of whom had only met each other the week before for an introductory session, had now come by car and train from their communities. They had come to learn not just from Akar Umbi, but from each other. They had come to learn about leadership.

Top: Chen (in red), the impact driver for Akar Umbi Society and Azalea Initiative programme coordinator, leads the ladies into a group discusion.

In Malaysia, refugees such as these women have lives harder than most. They have fled persecution and suffering to come to a country that is not their home, a country that gives them the merest of welcomes. Very few rights of theirs are recognised: they cannot legally go to school, or work, or get housing; they are called economic migrants or worse, detained and deported. They have lost the stability of community, of language and culture, and are kept in an interminable limbo of wondering when they can find a new place to set down their roots.

But to stamp them from this mould is to do a disservice, for people are more than the circumstances in which they are placed.

ON A JOURNEY

Chapter one started like this: Who am I?

“Our lives are like a journey,” said Chen Li, Impact Driver of Akar Umbi and the programme coordinator of the Azalea Initiative. Everyone changes as they journey, but some travel farther than most. From Afghanistan, Pakistan, Somalia, and Myanmar to Malaysia, the effects of the refugees’ forced migration have to be processed and understood. Perhaps I have a degree, but now I work a menial job. I have lost people whom I loved. I had great plans for my life and for my children’s lives – now I am a refugee. 

Yet people are hardy and resilient. Everyone has a way of enduring hardship, even if that way may have been invisible to us before. Each of us has a core of strength. When we acknowledge our loss, we begin to heal. When we learn to recognise our strength, we can move from insecurity to self-confidence. For some of these women, the struggles they’ve faced have empowered them to be bold and courageous. They are driven and motivated, and willing to share what they’ve learnt with their friends.

Above: Cecil (in green), is the coordinator of the Anti-Trafficking in Persons work with SUKA Society. She is one of the facilitators in the Azalea Intiative.

SAFE SPACES

It is not easy to speak of trauma, which is why it’s essential to create a safe space. It means creating an environment and culture free from judgement and interruption, and filled with love, patience, understanding, empathy. A safe space means taking the time to be present with one another.

Cecil, who helped run sessions on self-care, agrees on the importance of creating a space where people can be vulnerable. As coordinator in SUKA Society for Anti-Trafficking in Persons initiatives, Cecil recognised the pain and grief these women were holding. Even as the women laughed and talked, she could see the tension of their shoulders beneath their hijabs, how their eyes searched inwards when the conversation strayed too close to their hearts. The women took breathers to relax and reflect when they needed it.

Yet with time and space, these women found their courage to speak openly of what they had lost. They wrote letters to say what they’ve kept hidden in their hearts, secreting themselves in the alcoves of the Akar Umbi House. They recaptured those stolen opportunities to say goodbye to the people who mattered in their lives, sharing for the first time in their lives. Some had not realised that others had faced what they had gone through. Often, people hide their struggles because of cultural norms. What a relief to realise that one is not alone in grief!

One woman marvelled: “We come together for happy moments, but not for the sad ones.” Why do we not?

COMMON GROUND

Food drifted in, Afghan cuisine catered from the community for lunch and cakes for tea. Over the meals, the women got to know each other and the facilitators more. There is a closeness that comes from being vulnerable with one another. Kevin, Storyteller for Akar Umbi and programme assistant in the Azalea Initiative,  assisted with logistics and documentation, and sessions on communications and media, saw that bond of friendship blooming. Though the women spoke several languages and came from many cultures, their experiences had transcended their differences. Where the English was too difficult, some stepped up to help translate for their new friends.

Another session touched on the people in their lives. Who are our supports? Who are our teammates, our coaches? Whether they are still with us or whether they are not, the people who walked with us have had a great impact on us as individuals. We learn our values from our parents, life lessons from friends and teachers. When we seek to be leaders, knowing who our supports are is essential. And when we know where our support systems are, we want to help others build their own support systems. These women have begun to see each other as supports, too. 

As the hours drew long, Vic Qi, a volunteer facilitator, helped to centre and recharge the women with body movement exercises, guiding them in stretches and relaxation. On meeting with refugees for the first time and being inspired by their stories, she spoke a truth—when we help others, we too are helped by them.

DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGH

The stories that we tell others are almost as important as the stories we tell ourselves. Are we lonely, or are we independent? Am I broken, or am I resilient? The women worked through the defining moments in their life reflecting on the facets and perspectives they saw, alone or in groups, finding spaces to talk with one another. They sought out the beauty in their sorrow. As Cecil put it, you are what you are. Don’t let others write your story.

Leadership—true leadership—comes from within. When we recognise ourselves as worthy, as strong, as resilient, as capable: that is who we become. 

The Azalea is a seasonal flowering plant not native to Malaysia. In the warmth and wet of spring that comes after a cold winter, they begin to bloom. They drink deep from the earth and flower in great splashes of red and pink, almost as if shouting to say: I am here! Am I not wondrous?

The Azalea Initiative Women’s Leadership Programme intends to conclude in July 2022 with developed impact projects from the twelve women.

Article by Elliot Tan.
Elliot is a Diploma of Social Work student at MCKL who is interning with Akar Umbi Development Society.