REFUGEE CLAIMANT TURNS TO CHURCH
Unitarian congregants hold long talks before deciding to accept case
Ottawa Citizen, March 23, 2007 Original Story from OttawaCitizen.com
Shree Kumar Rai lives at the First Unitarian Congregation church while church members fight for his refugee status.
Pat McGrath, The Ottawa Citizen
At a table resting on an elevated slab of polished parquet, Shree Kumar Rai leans forward in his chair, clears his throat and, in faltering English, begins a narrative of desperation.
"I am a citizen of Nepal and belong to the village of Annapurna, district Bhyojpur." Mr. Rai, 43, already from a distant land, now finds himself in another world.
He went public yesterday with a decision to voluntarily detain himself inside First Unitarian Congregation, a sprawling church overlooking the Ottawa River near Woodroffe Avenue.
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Shree Kumar Rai lives at the First Unitarian Congregation church while church members fight for his refugee status.
Pat McGrath, The Ottawa Citizen
After a 10-year struggle to win permanent status in Canada, Mr. Rai was ordered deported by Feb. 27, the same day he sought the sanctuary of the church.
"I hope for better times in Nepal, but I fear for my life if I am deported and forced to return to my country." First Unitarian, it was evident yesterday, is getting good at this.
It organized a press conference, wrote background material, arranged for an immigration consultant, used the heft of Michael Cassidy (one-time Ontario NDP leader), and discussed its 24-hour support team.
"It's a way of standing up and giving testimony," said Mr. Cassidy. "The system failed this particular refugee." In July 2003, the 600-member church gave refuge to Samsu Mia, a Bangladesh native who came to Ottawa in 1995 and claimed to be persecuted by a senior member of the high commission.
It took almost 18 months of in-house exile, but Mr. Mia gained residency status in December 2004 after the intervention of then-immigration minister Judy Sgro. Mr. Rai's circumstances are quite different.
In a prepared statement, Mr. Rai said he became politically active while attending college in Nepal in the 1980s. While taking part in rallies and demonstrations, he was arrested in 1985 and detained for three months, he said.
Nepal, then and now, was a country in transition. Political parties were not legal until 1990 and since then, the nation endured a Communist-dominated parliament, a Maoist insurgency that claimed more than 11,000 lives and, finally, a dictatorial monarchy.
A truce has since been declared and the rule of parliament restored. But violence continues.
Only yesterday, Louise Arbour, the UN's human rights chief, called for an investigation into the deaths of at least 25 people during clashes between an ethnic group and Maoists.
Mr. Rai taught school from 1987 to 1990. He said he was protesting the killing of a political leader in 1993 when he was jailed and beaten by police.
In September 1995, he said, the police arrested him again and accused him of smuggling arms into the country. Mr. Rai, now constantly worried about apprehension, said the police raided his house in February 1996 and seized his father.
The older man later died from injuries suffered, Mr. Rai charged, at the hands of police.
"I had no place left in Nepal to live or hide. That is why I came to Canada." It was no small decision.
The man left behind his wife and four-year-old son. He has not laid eyes on his boy, now 15, for almost 11 years.
Mr. Rai said he came to Canada via Moscow in 1996, settling in Montreal. With limited English, he was able to get a job apprentising in a Japanese restaurant. He soon learned to be a sushi chef.
Though he has never lived in Ottawa, he made the acquaintance of a congregation member who was active in the Nepalese community here and in Montreal.
Joan Auden, chairwoman of the congregation's board, said there was a full discussion before agreeing to accept Mr. Rai. "We did a lot of due diligence." The congregation was not immediately ready to accept another sanctuary seeker in the months after Mr. Mia's departure, she explained.
It is, after all, a huge volunteer endeavour. Members need to provide company and support, help with meals and, for months and months, engage in political lobbying.
"We do it because it's a social justice issue." Ms. Auden, a social worker who interviewed Mr. Rai for several hours, is convinced he is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder due to the torture he endured behind bars.
He could only speak in tears of his ordeal.
The church immediately notified Immigration Minister Diane Finley about its new resident. It is asking that he be allowed to remain on compassionate grounds.
Mr. Rai is living in a converted office with a large desk, a computer, a bed, a television, shelving and a cinder block wall. The view overlooks the parking lot.
It has been a period of adjustment. He is accustomed to working long, overnight hours in a restaurant. The idleness does not sit well with him.
"I go crazy sometimes." He is busying himself by attending church meetings, doing yoga, joining the choir and reading newspapers and stories online. He speaks to his wife about once a week.
Seeking asylum in churches is a tradition that dates to the Middle Ages and, generally, Canadian authorities will not violate the sanctity of the institution to make an arrest.
There are currently about eight asylum-seekers in churches across the country, including two in Ottawa.
Mr. Rai, meanwhile, has an immigration consultant who has taken his case to a UN committee on torture.
"No choice for me," he says over tea in his room. "I wait."
Contact Kelly Egan at 613-726-5896 or by e-mail, kegan@thecitizen.canwest.com