A world away from a war-ravaged past

Enraged militant clansmen swarm the long road Soonto Muhktar must take to get to the city of Baidoa in her homeland of Somalia, threatening the life of the young girl and her family. Muhktar simply hopes to sell corn, beans and watermelons to the city dwellers, but instead she and her family are burdened with the sight of a seemingly endless war.

The warfare that erupted after the overthrow of dictator Siaad Barre in 1991 and the advance of tribal rule have caused much chaos in Somalia.
Muhktar, now a junior, fled the war-torn country in 1999 with her mother and her three brothers, freshman Ali and junior twins Abdi and Abdul. They found refuge in a camp in Nairobi, Kenya, along with over half a million other Somalians. Finally in the U.S., Muhktar and her family are safer than they have ever been.

Soonto Muhktar's most striking memory of clansman violence occurred when she was a young girl. Men came into her home and hit her mother twice with a gun, leaving a permanent scar on her chin and on Muhktar's life.

"We were always running," says Muhktar. "Rebels were always trying to kill civilians. We'd be in one place for two weeks, and then they'd come again. It's so painful, I don't even want to remember it." Fighting plagued the city, where the Muhktars moved after their farm was ravaged. "A lot of my friends are probably dead over there," fears Abdul Muhktar. "[Clansmen] just shoot bullets for no reason."

Amidst all the violence, Abdul Muhktar was able to contact his adult sister, who had moved to the U.S., and ask her for help to get out of Somalia. Working with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), the Muhktars were able to go to the refugee camp.

The camp, however, was a "horrible" place, according to Abdul Muhktar. He and his family had to cope with hot weather, lack of running water, scarce food and low income. The Muhktars remained in Kenya for two years and were periodically questioned by UNHCR workers about their plans. "I told them that my country fights, my dad died and no one is trying to help my family," Soonto Muhktar says defensively.

After seven months of processing, the Muhktars were given visas and airline tickets to the U.S. They arrived in July of 2001, becoming one of 44,673 Somalis since 1991 who have come to the U.S. as of February 2004, according to Richard Greene, a high-level State Department official who works with refugees.

Soonto Muhktar has been able to adapt to her new life in America very well, according to her teachers. Soonto Muhktar married as a teenager, like most Somali Muslims, just before she arrived in the U.S., and was one month pregnant while traveling to the States. Muhktar was forced to take several months off from Blair, which was her first experience with formal schooling, to care for her child. "She's one of our success stories," says ESOL teacher Margarita Bohórquez. "She's been very tenacious and dedicated."

Free schooling and a sense of security are opportunities Abdi Muhktar now appreciates. "[The United States] is different because this country is free," says Abdi Muhktar. "You go to school, come home, do your homework and no one bothers you."

The Muhktars enjoy their new-found security and have managed to become accustomed to American life. "Most of all, we feel free," says Abdul Muhktar. "We live in a peaceful place. That's what I like about the U.S. We don't hear gunshots."