Phoenix resident fears for family under Trump’s new travel ban

At just seven years old, Alenga Alokola became stateless after his home country, the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), found itself saddled by conflict.

In 1996, war broke out in the country, and life in the DRC became unbearable for Alokola’s family. As the fighting worsened, the economy deteriorated, and his family struggled to afford basic necessities such as food and water. Transportation also became increasingly limited, making it harder for them to access what they needed to survive.

Staying in the country was “hopeless,” Alokola said. 

The trauma of constant fighting and the scarcity of resources led to the internal displacement of millions of Congolese residents. More than 1 million fled to neighboring countries.

Alokola and his family were among those millions, leaving their homeland and traveling to the Nyarugusu refugee camp in Tanzania. What his family had hoped would be a brief stay ended up becoming a 20-year stint at the overcrowded refugee camp, where it was difficult for him to attend school or even travel outside the camp.

Nyarugusu is one of the world’s largest refugee camps, home to over 140,000 refugees from the DRC and Burundi, and although it was safer than life in the DRC, resources like food and water were still hard to come by. 

Alokola’s lifeline was the American refugee program, a longstanding commitment to provide refuge to individuals fleeing conflict worldwide. Since the program began in 1980, Arizona has welcomed 9,537 refugees from the DRC, including Alokola. 

Now, under President Trump’s new executive order banning foreign nationals from 12 countries from traveling to the US and placing partial bans on those from seven other countries, people like Alokola who aren’t already here would be barred from entry.

An American life

After two decades of living in the refugee camps, Alokola received the call informing him he was granted refuge in the US, something he’d always dreamed of. He quickly boarded the flight and made his way to Phoenix in 2016.

But adjusting to life in the US wasn’t easy. For his first month in Arizona, Alokola’s entire life was limited to a hotel room, far from his family and his community. But it was better than life in a tent, where necessities like food and water were sparse.

Due to logistical reasons, Alokola, now 36, had to come to the US alone while his family stayed in the overcrowded camps. Without his family or any friends, Alokola had limited interactions with others, especially with fellow Congolese people, which made him feel lonely at times.

To pay for the high cost of living in Arizona, he took a job in a ticketing warehouse, tagging clothes and shoes, a stark contrast to his past profession of teaching and project management, which he did at the Nyarugusu camp.

“It was very tough, very challenging. The culture shock, a different environment, a language barrier, and being in a new place,” he said. 

Despite the difficulties, Alokola was determined to succeed. He’d grown up hearing about the American Dream, the idea that immigrants can come to the US and achieve greatness. He wanted to make a difference.

The International Rescue Committee (IRC) and the Welcome to America Project (WTAP), two nonprofits dedicated to improving the lives of refugees in Arizona, reached out to help him integrate. Soon enough, he began giving back by volunteering with WTAP to help fellow refugees like himself.

After five months, he’d begun to adjust and the rest of his family — his mom, dad, and sisters — joined him in Phoenix. It was a little easier for them because he’d learned his way around and picked up on the language, too.

Alokola went on to earn a master’s degree in Global Management from Thunderbird School of Global Management and started his own nonprofit organization, Manga Pendo, which translates to “Light of Love,” to educate and empower refugees and disadvantaged individuals.

Alokola’s contributions to Arizona wouldn’t have been possible without immigration, which is why he opposes President Trump’s new travel ban. 

In the executive order, Trump said the ban exists to “protect citizens from aliens who intend to commit terrorist attacks, threaten our national security, espouse hateful ideology, or otherwise exploit the immigration laws for malevolent purposes.”

But studies show that immigrants commit crimes at lower rates than the US born population. 

Amnesty International, a human rights group, slammed the travel ban as “discriminatory, racist, and downright cruel,” saying it will hurt those fleeing war-torn regions, human rights violations, and other dangerous situations the most.

While the new travel ban does not explicitly ban refugees, the administration issued an indefinite suspension on the refugee admissions program in January. Since then, some of the only refugees who have been admitted to the US are white Afrikaners from South Africa — the group that ruled the country during apartheid.

Alokola still has family back in the Congo and he worries that they and other Congolese people looking for refuge could face further harm and potential death as a result of this travel ban.

“If they can’t get out, the options are that they’ll be killed, or they will get diseases, mental [issues]. They don’t get enough food, enough water, even personal needs are not satisfied, no education. People would be living in sadness,” said Alokola.

The Trump administration’s funding cuts to the US Agency for International Development funding (USAID), implemented earlier this year,  ended life-saving programs in the DRC that provided the only source of water for about 250,000 displaced Congolese living in camps near Goma, a city in the eastern part of the country. 

“We are excluded from everything. We are not included. It is affecting the well-being and the livelihood of people,” Alokola said.

Since 1996, conflict in the DRC has led to approximately six million deaths. Advocates warn that this broad travel ban could have catastrophic effects on the lives of millions worldwide. 

Alokola considers himself one of the lucky ones. The ban does not apply to those previously granted refugee status in the US. But as a result of the new ban, immigrants like himself could have a harder time migrating and creating a new life for themselves in the US.

Now a naturalized citizen, Alokola also worries that citizenship doesn’t mean much under the Trump administration, which has detained legal residents, revoked visas, challenged birthright citizenship, and is now implementing a broad travel ban.

“I’m a citizen. Right now, it doesn’t guarantee me from being deported,” said Alokola.

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