A plea for Yerim
Mar 8th, 2011 by Sueli Brodin
By Pam Falger
Before our son, Jeremy, left for a semester in Finland in early January, he installed Skype on my computer. I had avoided Skype for a long time, thinking it was yet another “high-tech wonder” I could easily live without. Was I ever wrong! In the past 3 weeks, I have been Skyping both Jeremy, in Helsinki, and Andrew, in Leuven, on a regular basis and I love it! Seeing my boys is one of the things that keeps me going these days.
And now I have added Abdoul to my Skype list too. Abdoul Dieng is a friend from the Ivory Coast whom I met when I was in graduate school in the States in 1979. He had come to the University of Illinois for a year to work on his Masters degree with a group of French architecture students. We all became close friends and had some wild times together, moments I will always treasure.
Though my contact with Abdoul was limited in the years following grad school, the wonder of email changed all that. We often wrote about how nice it would be if our families could meet, and in the summer of 2008, it finally happened. Abdoul, his wife Elisa, and their children, Soraya and Yerim, came to visit us in Schin op Geul. In the 3 or 4 days we spent together, Elisa became a sister to me, and Soraya and Yerim the niece and nephew I’d never had. It was, indeed, a joyful reunion! Little did either of us know what hardships would lie ahead.
I Skyped Abdoul a few weeks ago. Perhaps it was my imagination, or perhaps it was the computer reflecting a less than perfect image, but when I saw Abdoul, it seemed as if he had aged considerably in the 3 years since we last met. On the other hand, that’s not surprising, considering all of the crises he’s going through at the moment.
When the civil war broke out in the Ivory Coast a few years ago, Abdoul was forced to close down his atelier in Abijdan and seek work elsewhere. His search took him to a number of different countries before he found work in a bank in Tunisia. Though far from home and his family, Abdoul was happy to have a job at all. That all changed when he returned from Christmas vacation to find himself in the midst of yet another civil war. Though the much-hated president has fled the country, there are still militias roving the streets of Tunis, terrorizing the population and forcing Abdoul and his colleagues to remain inside their homes or offices most of the time.
A year or two ago, after their daughter, Soraya, completed high school, Abdoul and Elisa sent her to France, where they had family, to be sure that she would be safe and able to start her university studies uninterrupted. She was in Toulouse for a while, but moved to Lyon in the course of the last year. When I heard that, my first thought was to contact Barbara Marienbach, another friend from graduate school in Illinois who has lived in Lyon for several years. Barbara immediately agreed to meet Soraya and to act as a kind of “surrogate mom” to Soraya, much to Abdoul’s, Elisa’s, and my relief.
Yet, Elisa and son Yerim (18) remain in Abidjan, which is an even bigger powder keg than Tunis at the moment. The present dictator has made it clear that he will not hesitate to take whatever (violent) measures are necessary to save his a**. Abdoul has told Elisa to prepare to flee the country, but she refuses to. Despite having been diagnosed with a brain tumor herself last year, she is the sole caretaker of her aging parents. One of her sisters recently underwent surgery and is also being cared for by Elisa. Despite Abdoul’s pleas, Elisa refuses to leave her ailing parents and sister behind. Nor is she willing to send her only son off to Europe somewhere by himself. Apparently, Yerim has been raised in a very protective environment, not unlike my Andrew, and she is afraid to let him go. While I can totally relate to what she is feeling, Abdoul is, understandably, beside himself with worry. His words to me last night were: “Okay, half of Elisa’s life and my life are over, but I need to save my kids.” When I heard that, it was all I could do not to burst out in tears.
It goes without saying that my heart goes out to Abdoul and his family. Yet, I feel quite helpless, for my current state of health prevents me from doing much more than listening to him tell his story. A story that Abdoul — dear friend that he is — would rather not burden me with. But that’s what friends are for, right?
So now I turn to you, my friends, with a plea. I hope it won’t be necessary. I hope that the political situation in the Ivory Coast will miraculously change so that Elisa and Yerim can stay in Abidjan without fearing for their lives, so that Soraya and Abdoul can return home, to their beloved family, and live happily and safely for years to come. That’s what I hope for and — who knows? — that may eventually happen. For the moment, however, the odds are against it. The reality is that, regardless of his mother’s wishes, Yerim may need to flee his country and find refuge elsewhere. Somewhere safe. Somewhere with a family that, preferably, speaks French but, more importantly, that can empathize with his situation and make him feel welcome. Is there anybody out there who can do this for him?
To be honest, I haven’t thought this out very well. I’m merely reacting emotionally. I don’t know how long Yerim would need refuge for. Perhaps a few months? He would most likely first go to Paris, where Abdoul has a brother. But his brother lives alone and works. Besides, Abdoul is not very impressed with the part of Paris where his brother lives, so staying with him for more than a few weeks is not an option.
Everyone in Abdoul’s family has dual nationality and two passports, one from Ivory Coast and one from France. So the “legality” of Yerim staying in Europe is not at all an issue. Yerim speaks little, if any, English, so this would be a good opportunity for him to learn the language. I don’t know how good a student he is, but I do know that Yerim is a very warm, gentle young man, rather shy, but eager to please.
Well, that’s it, I guess. A somewhat vague plea on behalf of a family in desperate need of help. There are, no doubt, thousands of other families, in the Ivory Coast and elsewhere, who are also in need of such help. I just happen to know this one family. If we start by helping them, maybe others will follow our example.
Please, if this is something you are interested in pursuing, contact me. I will then put you into contact with Abdoul.
On behalf of the entire Dieng family, my deepest thanks.
Pam Falger























