Blind Brother Needs Help

Hello,

My name is Adam Ali. I am from Buffalo, New York, and originally from Somalia, currently working as a Somali/Arabic language interpreter and diabetes paraprofessional at Jericho Road Community Health Center, that serves a predominantly refugee population in Buffalo, New York. I want to share with you my journey of how I started as a refugee, and came full circle to being able to help other refugees, but still feel incomplete because of the family I left behind.

I left Somalia when I was only 6 years old with my older sister who raised me like her son. I first lived in Abu Dhabi and then in Damascus with her family, which is when we applied to the UN for refugee status. I am part of the lucky 1% of refugees that got resettled in another country. I worked for almost 2 years for  the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) at their office in Damascus  Office to help the needy refugee s. I arrived in Buffalo in 2007, when I was 23 years old.

I worked hard to learn a new language and integrate into a new culture. I slaved at several odd jobs to help provide for my family. I went  to  school part time to help develop my career, but could not complete becouse I have to support myself here, and my mother and father and sibling. There were a thousand roadblocks, but I  did not give up on providing for my family, so despite the worst odds, I continued to fight for a better future. 

Today, I feel lucky that I am here, and blessed to be in the situation that I am in, because I have roof over my head and food on my table.

But this is post is not about me...

The picture above is of my mom and my older brother, who are still left behind in a village, close to the city of Burco in North Somalia. She is a 78 year old frail woman, and he is a 39 year old blind guy. Ironically, she is his primary caregiver! Here is how they live...

After almost 9 years of being in the US, I was able to go visit them in Somalia. As you can understand, I hadn't seen them for almost 27 years... What I saw, broke my heart and deeply wounded my soul. Even the bare necessities of life such as food, water and shelter were lacking. To them, I was that long lost family that had finaly returned to help them out of this misery. Little did they know, how I still live below the poverty line in the US.

The feeling of helplessness overwhelmed me. The few hundred dollars that I have been sending them every few months, only goes so far as to get them clean water and one cooked meal a day. My mom is wasting away and my brother is completely dependant on her. She is not able to care for him or even for herself any longer.

I know what I need to do. And I have a plan...

1) Move them from the village to the town, where resources are more accesible.
2) Get them a place to stay
3) Arrange for someone to care for them .

This will give them some dignity in life. In a place like Somalia, the money needed to do all of the above is not much, of which I have none. I know that I can continue to support their day to day needs as I have been for the past several years, but I don't have the money for the capital expense of relocating them.

My journey as a refugee would then be complete, and my heart would rest peacefully, knowing I did everything I could for my dying mother and disabled brother, who did not have the same opportunity that I did.

I appreciate greatly, anyone moved by this story to donate. Please open your hearts and give as much as you can to support me in providing them the dignity that every human being deserves.