4 Long Years Without A Home -- African Among Many Immigrants Without Shelter Here

Hagos Gebru's voice is quiet and steady as he describes the torture he endured in his native Ethiopia.

He lifts a pant leg and pulls off a boot to reveal the dark scars left on his ankle from being hit with a baton during 40 days in solitary confinement.

Gebru, 45, spent eight months imprisoned by the Ethiopian military junta before escaping to a refugee camp in Sudan, where he lived from 1982 until last year.

It's been 13 years since Gebru has had a home. And he's still struggling to find one.

He and his family are among a growing number of displaced Africans, many victims of oppression, who came to America to find a new home but find themselves among Seattle's estimated 3,500 homeless.

The Gebrus live in two rooms at the Union Gospel Mission's family shelter in the International District where nearly a third of about 100 residents are African immigrants.

The difficulties of being homeless are heightened for immigrants, who have to cope with language barriers and lack of familiarity with the social-services system.

And as political refugees they often carry scars, both physical and mental.

"By and large most of these people have come from an experience of violence," said Mark Collins, a case manager at Seattle Emergency Housing, which in the last few years has provided shelter to many immigrants from Ethiopia, Eritrea and Somalia."They have been touched by violence. So there's trauma, but dealing with the

aftermath of violence comes later. First they deal with the immediate needs of being homeless and just trying to survive."

While Gebru is grateful to have a clean, safe place to stay, he says the long journey that began when he was arrested won't be complete until he has a home.

Gebru met his wife, Hadas Tesfay, during the years in the refugee camp and they had three daughters: Rahwa, 9; Fithawit, 7; and Tirhas, 2.

For years, Gebru had harbored hopes of leaving the camp and coming to the United States. His brother lives in Seattle and sponsored him and his family to come here.

Gebru, Hadas and their daughters, along with Gebru's son by another woman, Dejen, 9, and Hadas' 12-year-old sister Gedy, arrived in Seattle in September.

"I had no idea we would be homeless," Gebru said through an interpreter in his native language, Amharic. "It has left a scar."

But he also is thankful.

"I'm very grateful to these people and their help - without them we wouldn't have had a leg to stand on," Gebru said.

The children are enjoying the benefits of school and summer camp, but Gebru said for him and his wife, this has been a difficult time.

They don't yet speak English, although Gebru has taken community-college classes and intends to learn the language.

Gebru and Hadas both have health problems: He's diabetic and she has back troubles.

The family is on waiting lists for public housing at the Seattle and King County housing authorities, but the wait could be up to two years.

Applicants are told to check back every 60 days; Gebru returns every 30.

Gebru knows that he's lucky to have a place to stay, and that large families have more difficulty finding homes.

But he continues to wait. A place of his own, he said, would be the first step in establishing himself in his new country.