War tore him from family but now Eugene has hope

EUGENE Kavira shivers in the cold December day, weaves his way through the throng of Christmas shoppers and gives only a cursory glance at the displays of tempting goods in the shop windows.

The 17-year-old asylum seeker from the Democratic Republic Congo (DR Congo) knows he will have to wait until next year for the only Christmas present he wants – being reunited with his twin brother Job and younger brother Akabo, 14, who are living in a temporary holding centre for street children in the capital city of Kinshasa.

But for now the teenager who lives in a hostel in Glasgow runs up bills of £20 a week on his mobile phone – he is given £80 a week for food and living expenses – speaking to Job and Akabo.

"I speak to them and I don't eat. It makes me feel great just hearing their voices," says Eugene, smiling.

And there is lots to tell. How he arrived in Glasgow nearly two years ago after being held captive in a cave by rebels. How with little English he walked the streets looking for help. How he is doing well at All Saints secondary school in Springburn working towards four Highers in his hope of becoming a doctor.

Reuniting Eugene and some of his siblings has been possible thanks to the remarkable work of the Glasgow branch of the Red Cross international tracing and message service (ITMS).

Until April 2000 the bulk of the tracing work involved tracking down individuals and families who had lost touch during the upheaval and aftermath of the Second World War and the Cold War.

But following the government's dispersal policy on refugees, the service, which is in dire need of financial donations, is almost predominantly focused on reuniting individuals and family members who have been separated by the on-going civil war and natural disasters in countries such as DR Congo, Somalia, Eritrea, Iraq and Afghanistan.

At the heart of this vital Red Cross service is the "letter of hope" sent on a wing and a prayer by asylum seekers such as Eugene.

The 20-line letter makes its perilous journey from the UK through conflict zones and no-go areas and is passed from locally-based workers with the Red Cross and Red Crescent who negotiate with warlords, village elders and tribal leaders to give it safe passage.

The process can be painfully slow and dangerous and involves volunteers travelling hundreds of miles to deliver their precious cargo.

Frank Higgins, the manager of the main Scottish ITMS based in Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow, said a major source of stress for refugees was not knowing what had happened to their families.

"We sit them down and let them talk. It can take a lot of time to build up trust but as we hear their stories we are listening out for relevant practical details such as what mosque their family attended which our tracing system can filter out and use.

"Even if the news is bad they would rather find out than going to bed every night not knowing. There is also a tremendous feeling of guilt that they are safe when their families are unaccounted for. During the search we always try to use local people, village elders and tribal leaders who are the equivalent of a data base. The service is free and confidential and there is no time limit."

Mr Higgins said he remembered the first time he saw Eugene smile. "Our tracing service took six months to find Job and Akabo. But the brothers who have grown up in a civil war were distrustful and thought someone might be trying to trick them. They wanted to be sure it was from their brother. I telephoned Eugene and asked him to come in and see me. 'I've got some good news for you,' I told him.

"We never deliver family news over the telephone because it can be quite traumatic. For the first time ever Eugene asked to get out of school early and was here at the speed of light. We also got him a telephone number in the holding camp so that he could make contact with his brothers to convince them that it was really him. Since then he's never stopped smiling and is a different boy altogether."

Eugene takes up the tale. "I wanted the call to be private and special and dialled the number Frank gave me by myself. I said 'Hello?' A voice replied 'Hello'. I said 'Is that Job?' My brother said 'Yes'.

"I said 'Oh, thanks God!'.

"Then to be absolutely certain I said 'Do you know Eugene?' And my brothers said 'Oh Eugene, it's us!'

"They couldn't believe it was me and I couldn't believe it was them. We spent five minutes crying."

Eugene's family who lived in Bunia in the east of the DR Congo were targeted by soldiers because his father who is a businessman was accused by rebels of selling goods to Ugandan soldiers.

His father was dragged away by rebels and Eugene was imprisoned in a cave near Kisangani for more than a year. Asked about this time he becomes distressed and says quietly: "Oh Jesus Christ Almighty."

The Red Cross have been unable so far to find either of his parents or younger sister Armande, 10, and brother Pathy, eight.

After wandering the streets of Scotland a stranger took him to the Refugee Council and he was allocated a social worker. He is now waiting for lawyers to untangle bureaucratic hurdles before the family can be together.

Eugene is settling well into life in Scotland. He recalls his initial impressions of Glasgow when he arrived in February 2006. "I was really lost and I didn't know what the next step was for me. Everyone was walking about so quickly, crossing over this way and that, the weather was bad. People were drinking and smoking." He hesitates, before adding his most perplexing observation – "and hugging each other in the streets."

Despite his, hopefully, temporary aversion to witnessing Glaswegians showing affection he says in his spare time, when not studying or playing football, he likes to go the cinema to watch romantic films about long-term relationships.

He is learning to cook and in a lapse into west coast vernacular describes his culinary skills as "no bad". He is also filling in forms to train as a first-aid volunteer for the Red Cross.

But the best thing about Scotland? With no hesitation this time he replies "education".

Eugene will spend some of Christmas Day at the Salvation Army church in the city's Maryhill and hopes to meet up with friends later in the day.

"I feel down because of my family, we used to celebrate every Christmas all of us together."

But his real Christmas celebration is being saved for next year when hopefully he will be sitting down for Christmas dinner with Job and Akabo.

PAGE 17, Child soldiers