For many years the Irish journalist Graham Clifford travelled the world, reporting from refugee camps and charting the often perilous journeys of asylum seekers to Europe. For all the time and energy he put into his newspaper and radio reports, he ultimately felt unable to make a lasting difference. That changed in the unlikely setting of Dungarvan, a coastal town in County Waterford, where Clifford struck upon an idea that would have a positive, long-lasting impact on the asylum seekers in his own community.
“I would never say that I am a natural runner, but I found myself in this 10-mile race in Dungarvan,” explains Clifford. “I say race, but I was just trying to keep going. When you’re going through these runs, you find yourself with time to think and, as I was doing the race, I looked around at the other runners and the community, and just thought: ‘I wonder, could I do something with running to make new arrivals to our country feel that bit more welcome?’ It was a very rough idea but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
By the time Clifford made it home to Fermoy in County Cork that evening, the genesis of an idea had come to him. He would set up the Sanctuary Runners, a group that would give asylum seekers a place to meet Irish people in an informal environment. Clifford founded the group not as a political statement, but with three words in mind: solidarity, friendship and respect.
“When you think about it, running is beautiful in its simplicity. It’s a physical activity you can do with few limitations that can help you build friendships quite easily. In the early days, I provided posters for people living in Direct Provision centres, telling them that they were welcome.”
“Slowly but surely, people came. Many of them had never spoken to an Irish person before in an informal way as a friend. It had only been a transactional thing, whether at the centre where they lived or at a government office. We wanted to break down those barriers and build friendships.”
Direct Provision centres were established by the Irish government in 1999 to house asylum seekers who were waiting for their applications to be processed. The centres were meant to be a temporary solution, but there are now 6,000 asylum seekers living in 35 centres across the country. Residents come from all over the world – mainly Pakistan, Nigeria, Zimbabwe, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Albania, Malawi, South Africa, Bangladesh, Afghanistan and Syria – and live live together in centres that are often short of space. At least 2,250 of those living in Direct Provision are children.
Adults receive a personal allowance of €38.80 per week, with children given €29.80. Life can feel like purgatory, with a third of asylum seekers spending at least three years in the system. Many battle with mental health issues, isolation and a lack of routine beyond leaving their room for meals.
Back in 2011, a report by the UN warned about “the negative impact the policy has had on the welfare of asylum seekers who – due to the inordinate delay in the processing of their applications, and the final outcomes of their appeals and reviews – as well as poor living conditions, can suffer health and psychological problems that in certain cases lead to serious mental illness.” Two years later, the European Commission against Racism and Intolerance concluded that 90% of residents suffer from depression after six months in the system.
Sibusisiwe “Busie” Mhlophe moved to Cork three years ago from Gwanda, a town in the south of Zimbabwe. When she arrived at her first training session with the Sanctuary Runners, she was extremely shy and barely spoke. Prior to joining the club, she had spent her time within the four small walls of her room in the Direct Provision centre, punctuated by short visits outside for meals. She always kept her head down when she made furtive visits outside, scared she would be noticed and looked at. In a year of living in Cork, she had never had an informal, friendly conversation with an Irish person.
“I arrived at the first training session really nervous,” she says. “I didn’t know how Irish people would react to me. I always felt people were looking at me like I was different. I felt that people might think that I had no right to be here and wouldn’t want to talk to me as an asylum seeker. I was quiet and had never run before in a group like this. In fact, I had never really run, apart from when I played netball as a young girl.
“The group built my confidence and changed my life. I arrived in Ireland with no winter clothes. Irish people in the group took me to get clothes. They picked me up for training sessions and took me to races all over Ireland. What’s most important for us is to build genuine friendships that take place long after we run. They continue throughout the week.”
Sanctuary Runners grew quickly, with asylum seekers and Irish people bonding easily over their love of running, coffee and conversation. However, Clifford was not only interested in changing the lives of asylum seekers. He wanted the group to affect the hearts and minds of local people.
“One thing I always wanted to do with Sanctuary Runners was not just engage with people who really believed in us from the get-go, but also look to those who might just be that more nervous or hesitant,” he says. “Maybe they had never met an asylum seeker. They didn’t know anything about Direct Provision. They might even be cynical. We wanted to be open to them.
“We had a farmer who joined his wife, who had become a member. He was nervous about coming. Well, an hour in, he’s chatting away like old friends with a guy from Pakistan. Weeks after that he invited the whole group back to farmhouse for food and a sing-song. Those are the moments you love, and you realise how running can change things.”
When anyone joins Sanctuary Runners, they are given a blue T-shirt. Everyone wears the same clothing to signify that there are no labels: no one is viewed as an Irish person or an asylum seeker. Everyone is part of the group and everyone is equal.
“This group has given me so much,” says Muhammad Majid, who arrived in Cork from Pakistan three years ago. “When you arrive in a new country and are struggling with the language, how are you meant to make friends? The group has made it so easy. People come and pick you up and the best part is always the coffee afterwards. That’s when I have learned about Irish culture. They have been nothing other than welcoming for me. Life in Direct Provision can be scary, you’re constantly waiting. Now I don’t worry about waiting, I just look forward to when I am going to run again.”
The club competes in races all over Ireland, transporting runners from across the globe to small villages on winding country roads. There is no pressure on the runners to win medals or beat their personal bests. The aim is always the same: to build friendships. This year, the group are planning to take part in the Cork City Marathon with 1,000 Sanctuary Runners all dressed in blue.
Majid is now working as a chef in Cork and volunteering with homeless people in the city in his spare time. Mhlophe is studying international development at University College Cork and hopes she will go on to work with the local community she has come to love. Both of them remain committed to Sanctuary Runners. Clifford’s days have never been busier. There are Sanctuary Runners across every corner of Ireland with more than 1,500 runners competing in their blue T-shirts. He has people contacting him from all over the world to start the next Sanctuary Runners.
The road to friendship and acceptance in a new country is often long and difficult, but through the simple act of lacing up running shoes, the Sanctuary Runners have made it that bit quicker for hundreds of asylum seekers in Ireland.
Jonathan Drennan and The Sanctuary Runners are on Twitter