READ OUR OFFICIAL STATEMENT ON THE DETENTION OF REFUGEES AND ONGOING COMMUNITY VIOLENCE
SHARE YOUR EXPERIENCES WITH DISPLACEMENT, RESETTLEMENT, DEPORTATION, AND ICE #ANONYMOUSAMONGUS
Blog → May 4, 2022

A Life of Waiting

Written by Erica Eastley
Df1782ce 6792 4da0 a2e7 50d7810f4e1b
Egyptian bread (aish) is often transported on wooden racks on people's heads, usually when on a bicycle

The news in Egypt isn’t great right now. Inflation of food prices was 31% in the past year and it continues to increase right now. Egyptians’ main grain source is wheat, usually baked as aish, Egyptian flatbread. Aish also means “life” in Arabic, which gives you an idea of that bread’s importance here, but most of Egypt’s wheat is imported from Russia and Ukraine and everyone worries if there will be enough aish here soon. 19 Egyptians just drowned in the Mediterranean Sea. 192 people drowned trying to cross the Mediterranean in January and February of this year. Do we even think about them anymore?

We’re moving from Egypt in a few months after four years here. An Egyptian friend told me that she wished she were a refugee because she thought it would be easier for her to move to the US. A South Sudanese friend told me about trying to find enough food for her three children when her husband was in prison because he wouldn’t fight in the war. When he finally got out of prison, they fled but had to leave their two oldest children behind. Her husband told me about when he was an IDP as a child and fleeing from southern Sudan and seeing other children get caught by animals and his nightmares about that. An American friend told me that refugees here just need to work smarter and set up their own businesses and they’d be fine. Another American friend who is a psychologist volunteering with a refugee organization tells me about the experiences of refugees in Egypt who are HIV+. I see Syrian refugees everywhere in Cairo, trying to eke out a living. I’ve also seen a few friends get resettled, after at least 15 years here. I watch the children who moved here at the same time I did and know that they’re not going anywhere for at least 10 years, unless it’s back to South Sudan. And I wonder why the system is so dysfunctional, and especially why countries like Uganda and Pakistan and Lebanon and Bangladesh are left to host so many people.

We’ll be leaving with lots of memories. And we’ve changed. I’ve volunteered with and known refugees and asylum seekers in lots of countries, and Egypt isn’t Lebanon or Uganda, and it’s certainly not South Sudan or Somalia or Palestine, but it’s not where you want to be a refugee. I’ve rarely been able to spend so much time with people who are stuck in the waiting phase of being a refugee, or who are second- or third- or even fourth-generation refugees. At least when you’re in a resettlement country, you feel like you can help new friends get on their feet and move forward with life.

But how do you move forward when being a refugee is your entire lived reality? We like to say that being a refugee is only temporary, but for a lot of people, it isn’t. It certainly doesn’t define them and it shouldn’t limit them, but at some point, it feels like your refugee status will never change. How do we talk about that? How do we find opportunities for people stuck in protracted refugee situations? How do we make sure it’s really temporary? I don’t know, and I wish there were good answers to these questions.

A4e8dd3f 8e7d 4e48 9352 bbcf0a3f6353
Cairo at Ramadan
Other Posts

Official Statement on the Detention of Refugees and Ongoing Community Violence

With another death in Minnesota and continued violence toward individuals and groups standing up for their communities, we acknowledge the profound fear and uncertainty people are feeling--not just locally, but across the country.

On top of this, there are reports that refugees invited and admitted to our country through the U.S. Refugee Admission Program are now being detained, meaning that our new friends and neighbors feel that fear most acutely.

Refugees have already fled violence and persecution once. They came here legally, seeking safety. In moments like these, we reaffirm our commitment to building communities where refugees and immigrants can live without fear. Where they can go to work, send their children to school, and build lives of dignity and belonging.

We call for due process, accountability, and humanity in all immigration enforcement operations. We call upon our leaders to demand the demilitarization of our neighborhoods and cities. And we call on all of us to continue the work of welcoming and protecting those who have been forcibly displaced from their homes.

January 28, 2026
What would you do if you had to leave everything behind?

By the end of 2024, more than 123.2 million people worldwide had been forcibly displaced from their homes due to war, persecution, or human rights abuses.

An increase of 7.2 million over 2023, that’s more than 19,619 people every day — roughly one person every 4.4 seconds.

They arrive in refugee camps and other countries, like the US, seeking the one thing they’ve lost: safety.

Fleeing political imprisonment, ethnic violence, religious persecution, gang threats, or war crimes, they come with what little they managed to carry:

Legal papers – if they’re lucky.

A single backpack.

Sometimes a child’s hand in theirs.

They also carry the weight of what they left behind: fractured families, homes they’ll never return to, professions they loved, friends and relatives they may never see again.

They carry loss most of us can’t imagine – but also the truth of what they’ve endured.

At TSOS, we believe stories are a form of justice. When someone shares their experience of forced displacement, they reclaim their voice. And when we amplify that voice – through film, photography, writing, and advocacy – the world listens. Hearts soften. Communities open. Policy begins to shift.

That shift matters. Because when neighbors understand instead of fear…

when lawmakers see people, not politics…

when a teacher knows what her student has survived…

Rebuilding life from the ashes becomes possible.

We’re fighting an uphill battle. In today’s political climate, refugee stories are often twisted or ignored. They’re reduced to statistics, portrayed as national threats, or used to score political points.

The truth – the human, nuanced truth – gets lost, and when it does, we lose compassion.

We are here to share their truth anyway.

At TSOS, we don’t answer to headlines or algorithms. We are guided by a simple conviction: every person deserves to be seen, heard, and welcomed.

Our work is powered by the people we meet — refugees and asylum seekers rebuilding after loss, allies offering sanctuary, and communities daring to extend belonging.

Your support helps us share their stories — and ensure they’re heard where they matter most.

“What ultimately persuaded the judge wasn’t a legal argument. It was her story.”

— Kristen Smith Dayley, Executive Director, TSOS

Will you help us keep telling the truth?

No donation is too small — and it only takes a minute of your time.

Why give monthly?

We value every gift, but recurring contributions allow us to plan ahead and invest more deeply in:

  • New refugee storytelling and advocacy projects
  • Resources to train and equip forcibly displaced people to share their own stories
  • Public education that challenges fear with empathy
  • Local efforts that help communities welcome and integrate newcomers

As our thank-you, monthly supporters receive fewer fundraising messages — and more stories of the impact they’re making possible.

You don’t have to be displaced to stand with those who are.

Can you give today — and help carry these stories forward?

Add Impact to Your Inbox
Sign up for our emails to get inspiring stories and updates delivered straight to you.
Subscribe
© 2026 Their Story is Our Story Privacy Policy
Their Story is Our Story is a 501(c)3 Non-Profit Organization under the United States Internal Revenue Code. All donations are tax-deductible. Our tax identification number is 812983626.