Somali Family Reunites in Minneapolis Amidst Global Refugee Crisis Under Trump Administration

Having spent the larger part of her existence within the confines of an Ethiopian refugee camp, Fardowsa Abdi Aden found herself stepping onto Minnesota soil last Friday, her heart brimming with anticipation. The long-awaited family reunion with her sister and mother was finally within arm’s reach.

Meanwhile, Neima Mohamed Yusuf, just 2 years old and with a flair for melodrama, burst into tears as her aunt Shun Adan drenched her with affectionate kisses. Her arrival in Minnesota on January 17, 2025, was just the beginning of a newfound chapter. Credit: Aaron Nesheim | Sahan Journal

Rushing through the automatic doors of Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, Fardowsa wasted no time. She enveloped her sister Amina Aden in a tight embrace, as though time had never separated them.

The airport, usually bustling with orderly chaos, found itself hosting a spontaneous traffic snarl. Bystanders paused, some sidestepping, others pausing to witness this spectacle of familial joy.

Fardowsa at 35 and Amina at 37, shared a childhood in the dusty lanes of an Ethiopian refugee camp, but life had drifted them apart. An entire ocean marked their geographical difference for over ten years.

“I’m so jubilant I could weep,” Fardowsa admitted, her words conveyed via an interpreter, yet there was no need for translation when it came to her tear-rimmed eyes.

Arriving last Friday evening, Fardowsa, her husband, and their assemblage of eight children were just shy of a historic event—the inauguration of President Donald Trump on January 20. Awaiting them at the gates were Amina and a throng of exuberant family members bearing patriotic flair: red, white, and blue balloons swinging in the brisk Minnesota breeze beside a welcoming sign in Somali reading “SooDahawoo.” Cameras clicked and videos rolled as the scene unfolded.

“I’m overwhelmed with happiness. Finally, my family is whole,” Amina communicated, her voice tender through the interpreter’s articulation.

Embarking on a multinational odyssey spanning four grueling days, Fardowsa’s family—fleeing the ravages of the Somali Civil War—finally found refuge in Minnesota. This reunion stood as the zenith of their protracted immigration saga, an endeavor thwarted years prior during Trump’s initial presidency. Their recent success could have once again turned into a mirage with his re-election looming in November.

“Last time, back in 2016, it was the same hullabaloo,” commented Mohamed Yusuf Hassan, Fardowsa’s spouse, “yet providence smiled upon us this time.”

Twenty souls allied with the International Institute of Minnesota were there to bolster Fardowsa’s emotional arrival with warmth and logistical support. This nonprofit, pledging allegiance to the welfare of refugees and immigrants, had been a stalwart ally in shepherding Fardowsa’s family to American soil.

In a heartfelt gesture, Michelle Eberhard, the director of the institute’s Refugee Services, mobilized both staff and fervent volunteers to create a hearty welcome doused in human kindness, steadfast in its endeavor to leave an indelible mark on Fardowsa’s family. “Ensuring they feel our joy as a community—that’s paramount,” Eberhard shared at the bustling airport.

Later that frosty evening, around 6 p.m., Fardowsa’s reunited brood stepped into the brisk Minnesota air, the frosty flakes lingering like fairy dust as their struggle to converge as a family unit wrapped to a close. In stark contrast, mere days after their jubilant gathering, Trump signed several executive orders, flipping immigration policies on their heads and sowing seeds of uncertainty in the heart of America’s refugee resettlement program. Thousands who had eluded the miasma of war and persecution found themselves, once again, marooned. The Associated Press paints this dire tableau.

“Grateful doesn’t even capture it,” Mohamed declared, the relief in his voice palpable. “Bittersweet, knowing many are still tangled in limbo. One can only beseech mercy from on high.”

A family divided

Fleeing a land where chaos reigned supreme, Amina and Fardowsa were natives of Somalia before civil strife forced their family’s hand after their homeland’s governmental scaffolding crumbled in 1991. Young and scared, the sisters, alongside their resilient mother, Fadumo Isse, aged 57, unabashedly sought sanctuary in the Kebribeyah refugee camp of Ethiopia, mourning their father who had fallen when the war cries crescendoed.

More than 16,000 of the displaced called the camp home; refugees, some waiting since Noah’s flood, for any glimmer of hope, chronicled the United Nations Refugees Agency. Ethiopia’s timeless refuge, replete with scant water, dysfunctional health networks, and makeshift homes, beheld days of continued existence.

For Fardowsa, the camp was all she knew until she reached the snowy flats of Minnesota. Her offspring, spanning 3 to 18 years, were birthed amid the camp’s weathered labyrinth.

A crueller fate visited young Amina, losing her vision during innocent youthhood. In gallant service, Fardowsa became the eyes her sister could no longer claim. She guided Amina like a guardian angel through the camp’s daily hurdles, performing small magics of compassion.

In a poignant display of joy, Fardowsa embraced her loved ones at the airport. Her laughter mingled with silent tears as she reunited with her aunt Shun Adan on that eventful January 17, 2025, as captured by Aaron Nesheim for the Sahan Journal.

Embarking on their refugee resettlement odyssey back in 2010, Fadumo, Amina, and Fardowsa aimed to cross into new horizons together. Alas, only Amina and Fadumo’s stars aligned, claiming refugee status, for Fardowsa’s union in matrimony and familial riches precluded her inclusion. They arrived in New York like dreamers before them in 2011, under Lady Liberty’s benign gaze, wandering into Minnesota not long after.

“A void like no other,” Amina recounted of her early days in the Americas without her sister’s steady hand by her side.

Throughout the years, the family clung desperately to the invisible threads of telephone wires, their voices tiny echoes against the void of distance. “Patience nearly eluded me,” Fardowsa confided. “The wait seemed forever.” Her longing was near tangible.

To Fadumo, bereft of the company of both daughters, every moment stretched like a Sisyphian task. Sometimes she called upon nieces or nephews in Minnesota to accomplish the tasks her pained limbs could not manage alone.

Apart from their singular odyssey, when Amina and Fadumo ventured back to the lost pastures to visit Fardowsa in Ethiopia in September 2023, for five hurried months, these were the only moments of shared physical space estranged family remembered.

Fardowsa’s much-anticipated exodus to America nearly bore fruit in 2016, yet Trump’s executive affairs summed to a cruel twist, suspending her claims through the perilous penning of a travel ban, targeting predominantly Muslim-majority nations.

The advent of Joe Biden in 2021 was as a fresh breeze through long-stilled chambers. With a flourish of executive decrees and quill in hand, the shackles on Fardowsa’s passage slackened.

Trump’s second coming on the political stage steered Amina into trepidation. The sisterly hope for reunion felt taut against the string of legislative whims. Fardowsa pondered the odds of history repeating itself—could Trump once more weave the impossibility of another stay with a new ban?

“Thankfully,” Amina mused, “the murkiness dissolved before he assumed full control. My loved ones arrived just in time.”

Little Neima Mohamed Yusuf, at a tender two years of age, expressed her familial dismay quite vocally, her dramatic cries punctuating the arrival scene in Minnesota on the fateful day of January 17, 2025, as photographer Aaron Nesheim captured.

A dream come true

Minnesota lay spread like a new dawn for Fardowsa ably managing to distill the sum of her family’s possessions into a mere eight suitcases. Prioritizing her goal: reunite with her kin—her sister and bedridden mother.

A makeshift troupe of buoyant relations migrated from the airports’ terminal waltz to the confines of Amina and Fadumo’s South Minneapolis abode for a gastronomic reconnaissance and warmth.

Hues of comfort, thick blankets unfurled on the living room floor. The interior cradled a simple mattress, while vivacious young ones romped gleefully among scattered toys.

For Fadumo, euphoria enveloped the heart, seeing her progeny and their offspring united under one roof. Earlier, health impediments kept her from joining at the airport; now she bestowed welters of kisses and embraces upon her newly-arrived grandchildren.

Muhad Mohamed, aged 7, eagerly presented his grandmother Fadumo a fresh, shinny toy upon debuting in Minneapolis for the first time, eloquently captured on January 17, 2025, by Aaron Nesheim for the Sahan Journal.

“A dreamscape, almost,” Fadumo expressed through a translator. “I soar like a lark elevated by sheer delight.”

Fardowsa’s family nestled within her sister’s hearth for a handful of nights before sliding into their new chapter—an apartment found via the kind lips of the International Institute’s efforts, primed and prepared for occupancy.

Fardowsa’s grin lingered as she explored this newly-acquired domicile with husband, mother, and a cherished family ally in tow.

Institute altruists spent great lengths shaping a dwelling environment replete with furnishings, pantry provisions, and playthings alike.

Promising fresh starts, Fardowsa divulged with a loving nod her planned familial migration into a new life space the very morrow.

“Words elude,” Fardowsa bounced with joy, “this joy knows no tether. Each glimpse I’m afforded thus far—a marvel.”

Her heart sang an aria of hope. The possibility of a job captured her idle thoughts, as did the prospect of her children flourishing through enriched educational pathways. Yet her thoughts murmured a prayer for kin scattered globally, amidst rhetoric strangling the promise of immigration.

“I trust in providence,” she softly murmured, “That obstacles be lifted, allowing fate’s captives their sanctuary.”

As hopes unfolded, balloons danced, flowers bloomed, and laughter echoed within the corners of MSP Airport on January 17, 2025, quietly photographed by Aaron Nesheim for the Sahan Journal.

Atra Mohamed translated interviews for this article.

Report By Axadle