THE STORY OF HOW WE BEGIN TO DREAM.

It's a hard thing to carry other peoples' stories with us. We already hold the story of our lives, but then it's compounded with the stories of everyone else who's entered and exited. Sometimes we can spend ten years knowing someone and only a small part of who they are becomes part of us and sometimes we can spend ten minutes with someone and they shape who we are forever.

I find out peoples' stories. That's my job. I've been doing Assisted Voluntary Return interviews (voluntary return is the process that occurs when migrants living in one country volunteer to go back to their country of origin). 

The office I'm based in is the last stop for migrants who've come to this country in search of protection or in search of new opportunities. They come to us when they realize that no status will ever be attained. That their dreams of building a life in a new place are over... at least for now. Most of them have spent time in detention - they're imprisoned for being. And now, they want to return. I try to trace their lives so that we and our international partners can help to find lost documents and to then to hopefully give assistance for reintegration - housing, job search, medical needs. Every day I carry these stories with me... 

He was 21 years old, from Burkina Faso, and he had this really unique style and way about him. His mohawk was perfectly combed, jeans light, tight, fitted, and he was wearing an ice blue t-shirt, which made his already dark skin appear even darker.

His family moved to another West African country when he was very young to escape a family dispute. His father, mother, and younger brother were killed there - wrong land, wrong time, so he left, because there was nothing to stay for.

I asked, "Why do you want to go back?"

He said, "I'm young... You know, Im just a boy. I can't do anything here. I've been locked up. There is so much to do in my life."

I stared into his face. I imagined my life by the time I was 21: I graduated high school. l lived in Ghana. I saw so much of the world with an American passport - I came and left so many places without thinking twice. Sure they were beautiful, but I never understood the value of the stamp, the visa, the permission. I fell in love. I fell out of love. I hiked mountains for fun. I had a dog. I had a home.

I came back to reality and thanked him for his story. I wished him luck and told him we would try to help him return. I smiled. He said, "God bless you." 

And then, I closed the door, realizing that the one thing we had in common at the age of 21 was that we both had big dreams.

Photo source: http://www.warrickpage.com/#/features/edhi-orphans/pak_edhi_012