Stranger in a strange land - my refugee life in South Africa

My parents lived in the Democratic Republic of Congo under very dangerous circumstances and decided to immigrate, my father first and then my mother. They met in Johannesburg, South Africa in 1992 and after a miscarriage in 1993, they finally had twins in 1996 and another baby girl in 1999. 

Being a refugee, unlike a migrant, is simply the difference of choice – migrants have a choice, but refugees don’t. South Africa gained freedom and in the same year, my parents applied for asylum seeker papers and were granted it, and later granted refugee status, so they planned to make SA their permanent home. 

We lived between Berea and Yeoville in the early 2000s, and I started and completed my pre-school at Cozy Cots Corner at St Georges in Yeoville. In 2003, I then started primary school at Houghton Primary School. I knew I was different because I often got teased for my dark skin. I did not, however, know I was “foreign”, I had always known SA to be my home. 

In 2006, my mother really wanted to get us documented, so she went to a group that helped with documentation, called “RCP” and they took us to the Refugee Reception Centre in Rosettenville. We were put under her file, my siblings and I legally became refugees in SA, I did not know what that meant, I continued with my schooling , I was very diligent and did well – I had big hopes and dreams of becoming successful. 

In 2010, I started high school at Waverley Girls High School – these were honestly some of my best years, being a teen was fun as I did not have many issues or problems, the teasing stopped. I had self-esteem issues, but was smart so that made up for that. When we were born, my parents were not able to get us birth certificates, they tried and tried for years, but the Department of Home Affairs would always confuse them. Luckily, however, in 2011, Home Affairs came to Yeoville and was documenting children and my parents were able to acquire our unabridged birth certificates.

It was in my matric year that I finally understood what I really was, a foreigner. Home Affairs had come to our school to register people for IDs and I went up to the official and I presented him with my unabridged birth certificate and clinic card, and he said I am not liable to apply for an ID because my birth certificate was unabridged. He then showed me an abridged birth certificate and I was shocked at how different it was. He told me that my parents had to apply for permanent residence and that way I would attain citizenship. 

I went home to my parents and they explained that although I was born in South Africa, because they were not South African, I could not get citizenship. I asked them about the permanent residence and my dad told me he was approved by a standing committee in 2006, but did not have the money that was needed for the applications. My dad had never had stable permanent income because he could not get a job. 

If this year there are no changes, I don’t see myself living past this year. I will take my life.