Somalis in Minnesota

Personal Account: Mohamoud Bile Jama

Personal Account: Mohamoud Bile Jama    67 Personal Account: Mohamoud Bile Jama An embodiment of those Somalis who have not felt resettled in the United States until they came to Minnesota is an immeasurably tenacious , determined, and resolved father of seven, Mohamoud Bile Jama, who shares his story, which like so many immigrant tales focuses on maximizing opportunity in unfamiliar territory. Mohamoud was one of thirty-three refugees, a group of Somalis and Oromos, all originally from Ethiopia, who arrived in New York on March 6, 1989. Mohamoud, his pregnant wife, and three children were one of three Somali families heading to Fort Worth, Texas. After some struggles in Fort Worth and then Dallas, one day Mohamoud was at the post office to report a change of address when there, right before his eyes, stood a Somali man whom he had known back home in Mogadishu. After a huge healing hug, they began to catch up on each other’s lives. The man recommended San Diego, California, with its burgeoning Somali community, as a new destination for Mohamoud’s family. Once there, they were welcomed with warm hearts and open arms. A Somali family shared a two-bedroom apartment with them. Gratefully, the family settled in, then rented a house, and slowly built a life. As more­Somalis arrived, the neighborhood rapidly grew, but Mohamoud felt that progress remained slow. Wanting to invest in his children and their futures , he got on the phone with inquiries (war/warraysi) about employment prospects in other states and soon narrowed them down to two cities: Minneapolis, Minnesota, and Kansas City, Missouri. Eventually he filled the tank of the family van and, with his recently graduated daughter and sixteen-year-old son in tow, left San Diego. He assessed both cities and then his Somali source of war led him to Rochester, Minnesota, where there were jobs. But what kind? He did not ask, nor did he care. He immediately went to the IBM building, where both he and his daughter filled out employment applications. They were hired on the spot for assembly work. Mohamoud asked his daughter’s supervisor to allow her to wear her hijab on the job. He knew that some Somalis had been too timid to make this request. Thus, his daughter was the first to wear hijab, 68    people of minnesota and soon the rest of the women followed. His sixteen-year-old son got a housekeeping job that same day and in fact began working while his sister and father were still going through the screening process at IBM.­Mohamoud states: When time had come to relocate the whole family from San Diego to Rochester, Minnesota, I had to borrow the money to ­finance the trip although three family members were now working. I called a friend of mine and asked for a loan of three thousand dollars. I told him that I would pay him back in three months. He gave me the loan and I rented a U-Haul, sharing the rental cost with another family moving to Minnesota. In Minnesota I got my family under one roof and in three months paid off my friend. I was also able to repay another man who had sold me the van we drove to Minnesota on credit. While at IBM, I had asked that I work two shifts. Putting in many hours, I was able to save a little money. I was eventually laid off but was soon hired by another company that was very good to me and flexible enough to allow time off for Friday prayers. Then September 11, 2001, happened. That dreadful day I was at work but shortly thereafter I was laid off again. After six months of unemployment, it simply dawned on me that I had been chasing jobs that were out of my league. There and then, I decided to look for jobs that met my qualifications: lowerend jobs, janitorial, and the like. I put together a few dollars, telling people to invest with me, and became a janitorial subcontractor in two separate deals. As I expected, one of the two went under. The other, a carpet cleaning service, survived. We went on for five years. I had borne the obligation of caring for my family just fine. Once again I had plateaued. I did not want my children to be indebted to a life of cleaning dirt, nor did I want them to see me toiling. I needed to make a...