I am a refugee, just like you.
I have never understood the way refugees and displaced individuals are often spoken about—as if they are perpetual outsiders, as…
I have never understood the way refugees and displaced individuals are often spoken about—as if they are perpetual outsiders, as if they don’t quite belong. But what is it that makes them different? Is it their language? Their culture? The land they once called home? And even if they are different in some ways, why is “different” seen as something negative? Shouldn’t we celebrate those differences—embracing the richness they bring to our communities, the stories they carry, and the perspectives they offer? Diversity is not a threat; it is a gift that deepens our understanding of the world and strengthens the very fabric of our societies.
“They” is not just some distant group of people—it is you, it is me. Refugees are not separate from us; they are us, shaped by different circumstances but sharing the same dreams, fears, and desires.
Yes, refugees may speak in unfamiliar languages, practice customs that seem foreign, or come from distant places. But beneath those surface-level differences, we all share the same emotions, needs, and hopes. Just like you and me, they long for peace, security, and a place to call home.
According to the UNHCR, refugees are people who have fled war, violence, conflict, or persecution, crossing international borders to seek safety. Many are forced to leave behind everything they have ever known—homes, possessions, careers, and even loved ones—often with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. (Source: What is a refugee? | UNHCR US).
In essence, refugees are ordinary people whose lives were upended in an instant. One day, they were living as they always had, and the next, they were told their home was no longer safe. Faced with impossible choices, they had to leave behind everything familiar, stepping into uncertainty with no guarantee of what the future holds. Will they ever return? If they do, will their home still be standing? Will they ever find a place that welcomes them? The weight of these unknowns is something no one should have to bear.
We do not own this world. The person forced to flee today could be any one of us tomorrow. War and conflict do not discriminate. We are all refugees in this fleeting world.
Yet, our leaders act as if they do own it—as if borders and policies give them the right to decide who belongs and who does not. But the truth is, no one truly owns the land they stand on. And if that is the case, why should anyone be denied the right to safety, dignity, and a place to call home?