The Photographers
Hakim, 15 years old, Somalia
My father and I left Somalia for Kenya when I was about five when my mother was killed. I don't remember much from my life in Somalia - I have the memory of feelings - of being happy and 'home' and being with my mum and dad but I can't actually remember people or places.
One day my father came to the house where I was staying. He told me I was leaving. I thought I was going to another family, but instead he took me to the airport. There was a woman waiting for us who I had never met before and my father told me to go with her. I had never been on a plane before. I didn't really talk to the lady because I didn't know her. We arrived in London - I didn't know it was London at the time - she took me to a busy place in the city, I remember lots of strange people and it was cold. The lady told me to wait for her as she had to go and do something. I waited and waited, for six hours, but she never came back. I was scared and confused and didn't know what to do. In the crowds I saw a man who I could tell was Somali so I went up to him and told him about my situation. He said he would help me and took me to his house. He then took me to a Somali Community Centre.
The Centre helped me to find a lawyer and then a foster family. The family is Somali and they have one child and then three other foster children from Palestine. We are a real family - I call them mum, dad, brother and sister. I now go to an Islamic School which is giving me a very good education. There are other students like me in the class who haven't been to school before and the teachers are very supportive and there is always someone I can go to for help. There is a lot to catch up on but I really enjoy it and I know how important it is. I believe you don't go to school so that you can get a job, you go to school to get knowledge, to learn about things that will help you in life. I know I will never have this opportunity again - this is the time to learn and I am determined to make the most of it.
I don't like to be idle. When I'm not busy I start thinking about home, about people I lived with, my aunt and my dad, and being sent here and it makes me sad. I know my dad wanted me to have a better life away from the refugee camps in Kenya and that's why he sent me here. I am grateful for what he did for me but, all the same, I wish we could be together and be back home.
Onesmus, 15 years old, Rwanda
My mother was Tutsi and my father was Hutu. My mother was a member of the armed forces and my father was originally a cultivator but later converted into a cattle keeper by the influence of my maternal side. Me and my sisters have been orphans since their death in 1994, in the Genocide that saw massive numbers of people from both sides die due to tribal differences.
Since I was 7 years old I have been learning English language. First, I went to a church school and later Kicukiro Academy from where I learnt Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Literature, Maths, Religious Education, Political Education, French, History, Geography and Agriculture - although Agriculture was my worst subject and I hated it. I am now 15 years old and will turn 16 in September. At this age, I have experienced the second biggest change after the death of my parents in 1994 - leaving my country and coming to Britain. At the beginning of this year I left my sisters in Rwanda and have not heard from them since, more than 3 months ago now.
My life has changed a lot. My lifestyle is not the same anymore.
I believe in democracy. I am much interested in politics and would like to find out a lot of things about today's world instability, its causes and possible solutions. In this country I hope to build a strong career and become an important person who can contribute to the development of my society and my own personality. It is important that people understand being a refugee does not mean that you are not talented and capable of doing many different things.
By origin I am black African, obviously, but I don't belong to the Tutsi or the Hutu of my country because I am a product of the two, and would very much like to be called both the son of my late parents and my country, because tribalism is a cause of political instability - my country being a case in point. I look at all people from all over the world as equal although different by culture and traditions, language and backgrounds. But to me skin colour is a physically observable difference that doesn't affect peoples' reasoning capacity and capabilities.
I can't predict the future but I hope it will be better. I am sure God knows what the future holds for me.
Doulat, 17 years old, Afghanistan
One day I went shopping about half an hour from home and while I was there fighting started. After 2 or 3 days the fighting stopped and when I went back home no one was there. Everything in my home was untouched and all my family were gone. People came to me and said, "What the hell are you doing here, if the Taliban find you they will kill you". I am from the Northern Alliance people, the Tajik. I was a small boy at the time, about 10 or 11 years old.
One of the Northern Alliance people took me to the city. I told them I would find my own way and I tried to find my family. I spent 3 months searching but I got a rash all over my body. I went to Kabul and was collecting scrap metal. A woman invited me to come and live with her family. I stayed there 2 years. She never asked me to give her money - never. She said I was her own son but I had to go from there. There was some trouble with the family and the Taliban had told me if they saw me collecting metal they would immediately put me in prison. I left Kabul and went to Iran where I worked in a pyjama factory for 8 months. However there was a fire and the other boys accused me of starting it.
In the city, I met a smuggler. He was a drug addict. I had met him hanging around in the park, he said he was from my village in Afghanistan, he knew my whole family's names, my grandmother, my grandmother's mother, my grandfather's grandfather. I paid him $1,000 and he gave me back $100. He said that when I became a rich man I could pay him back. That sounded okay to me because he was into drugs and he'll die before I ever become rich!
We were taken to the airport and they gave me a European passport. I went through customs and they just stamped my passport. I was not nervous because I had nothing to lose. The plane arrived in, I think, it was France. After 2 days they took me to a ship and the smuggler told me to climb under the lorry next to the wheel, on the axle. I told him he had to be joking. I had not run from Afghanistan to save my life to get killed here. He told me to get under. He was Kurdish so he could speak a little Farsi. He pulled out a knife and said he would kill me if I didn't go. "I will put you in the river, no one will know who you are and no one will care." He slashed my arm with his knife.
I was hanging there and sleeping when the lorry started and went on the ship. Inside the ship I got off and found one of the ship workers and he called the police. My face was black from the lorry.
That's it, so I was here. I was 15 years old when I arrived in England. I was in Kent one month, in a place with other refugees under 16 years old. After that I stayed with a foster family in Margate. The family were very nice and I stayed there for about 5 months. Then I found out that my uncle had also been brought to England by the same smuggler. At first it was nice to see him but now it is not so good. While I was living with the family my uncle called me and said I should come and live in London with him. My uncle had 2 rooms and I slept on the floor. After some time many people came to stay in these rooms, there were 5 of us altogether. Then my uncle went to Pakistan so I had to leave. I went to the Children's Society and said I had nowhere to live. This was around Christmas and I was sleeping in a car. After some time I was moved to a hotel in Barking and I am still there today.
England is good. There are good and bad people in every country. English people have been friendly. Sometimes people ask me about my past - I don't mind. I don't know what will happen in the future. I will study. I'll work, at any job. I think I will spend my life in England. I have Afghan friends but I spend a lot of time with Florian, my best friend. He says he is my brother and that I am his teacher. I help him to learn English. My problem is I haven't studied a lot, my education stopped when I was 10 or 11 in Afghanistan. I can write a little in my own language and some in English but I cannot write as well as I can speak.
Tatiana, 18 years old, Angola
I am 18 years old and I'm new in this country. This country is giving me a lot of good new things so I am very happy and thankful. Although I miss some things from my country, other things I do not miss at all. But it's strange because sometimes I don't feel happy like most of my friends. I don't know why. I wish I could be just like everyone else but I don't feel like that. It's difficult to choose what I'm going to do in the future because everybody gives you different advice.
I am happy with my photographs now. It looks like maybe I could be a photographer. Well, maybe not. But before I could never imagine doing a job like that.
Hawdin, 15 years old, Iraq
Life still has some problems but every thing in the world has good and bad. In some places people look at me in a way as if I have done something wrong. I once asked a lady for directions, unfortunately she ignored me and I felt upset. It is absolutely true that we came to your country as refugees but does that mean we don't have a right to live? Don't we have feeling and wishes? In spite of meeting such people I see others who are very nice and helpful. By coming across such nice people I feel that I have the right to live. People were created by God and all of them should be treated in the same way.