We Imagined Israel as Something Different. We Thought It Would Be Paradise

An Eritrean asylum seeker bound for Canada after 16 years in Israel says he will never tell his children about his ordeal

Awat Bahate, 32; immigrating to Alberta, Canada

Hi, where are you off to?

To Canada. We’re moving there, the whole family. I have spent 16 years in Israel. I was born in Eritrea, in a beautiful city called Adi Keyh. Because of the government, my parents were forced to join the army. They have a conscription law there, but it’s not really a temporary duty: It’s for life. My father is about 60 and he’s still in the army. Not discharged. I was born when they were both serving; we are eight siblings. And I escaped from there.

When did you realize you had to escape?

The state of Israel

I went to a Catholic school and they ask there you what your dreams are. I wanted to be a strong soldier. But then I saw what the army really was. I saw my father once a year for two weeks. Life without Dad. He comes, says hello and disappears. And there’s no way to get out of it. If your commanders aren’t satisfied – it’s jail. The same for Mom. What about the children? They don’t care. I saw life there, day by day. I observed what was happening and I understood. I was 12 and a half and I understood that I had to leave.

Like that, alone?

Me and a few friends. We sat, drank coffee and talked about our dreams. We all had the same one: to leave. Each of us wanted to escape from the country, because it’s impossible to have a life there. We didn’t say anything to anyone, it was impossible to talk; they also brainwashed people. So we went to Ethiopia and then Sudan, and got here through Egypt. Three people died on the way, two guys and a girl. I was a kid. It traumatized me. I try not to remember all those things.

What happened when you got here?

We thought it would be paradise. In our minds, Israel was something different. We thought we would be accepted, that we would go to school here, that it would be all right, that we would learn the language. We were released next to the Central Bus Station [in Tel Aviv] – just like that. We continued with our life. I lived in Netanya. We experienced everything that happened here. It’s important for me to say thank you to Israel. Because I fled my country and learned a great deal here. I got married. I have two children. 

So why are you leaving now?

I’ve lived here for 16 years. Every two months I went to request a visa – now it’s every four months. I submitted a request to be [recognized as] a refugee. I was in detention in Holot [a detention facility], near Be’er Sheva. With my status it is impossible to even get an appointment at the bank. They ask for an ID card; there isn’t one. I have an ID document, but a different number is needed for every place. If I read out to them the ID number on one piece of paper, it won’t help, because they need a different one. In the hospital there is a different number. The police have a different number. And I came from a different world.

Do you know what you’ll do in Canada?

With God’s help I will get citizenship there: They recognize asylum seekers and help them. And I want my children to be able to move on, without fear. I want them to have dreams and a future. My sister was here, too. Her children were born here, went to school here and asked to serve in the army, but they didn’t let them. Their friends [at school] go for an annual field trip – and they don’t go.

Is it hard for you to leave?

Of course. But I know that it will be fine, even though it will be hard for me. Here I learned that nothing in this world is difficult; what looks difficult, can also be overcome. I learned so much from the Israelis, from my friends. I was always treated like one of the family: 99 percent of Israelis are my kind of people. Good people. When my wife gave birth, everyone helped us. I have many friends here. But so many years like this is hard. I’m trying to erase the past. My life here was better than in Eritrea, but I have to think about the future of my children. I started the [immigration] process even before my wedding – it took many years. Since then I’ve had a son, who is 2 and a half, and an 8-month-old daughter: Yedidya and Tziona.

Will you tell your children what you’ve gone through?

No, I won’t. To go into those details can drive you insane. I will go forward; I will open the way for them. And that’s why I’m leaving. For years and years I waited for one thing: the Interior Ministry. Why I didn’t give up before, I don’t know. All my money and all my time went to a lawyer. I hope that one day the problem of asylum seekers in Israel will be solved. Today I prefer to deal with everything that is difficult by myself, so that my kids will have a good life. That’s all I want. I don’t know what a father is, so I have to create that from inside, by myself.