The blessed: A story of a Tamil asylum seeker
What's in a name? Apparently, not much. Asservatham, with a family name roughly translated to mean the blessed, is appealing for refugee status in Thailand, which was denied by the UNHCR the first time around.
The 30-year-old man hasn't seen a blessed life since birth. His age marks the 30-year civil war that has ravaged the northern part and the capital of the once picturesque island of Sri Lanka. The Catholic Tamil is a minority of minorities there. Asservatham is in his second year as an asylum seeker in Thailand and believes his life has been a refugee's since birth.
He met us for coffee in a time when his country was in the throes of deadly violence. At the time, the civilian death toll within the government-imposed ‘no-fire zone' was well over 5,000 with many of the casualties children.
More than 192,000 civilians had been displaced within a few short weeks and were living in the 14 square kilometer section sanctioned as the ‘no-fire zone' in the Mullaitivu district, Asservatham's hometown.
The sanction, however, was susceptible as the Sri Lankan army recently admitted to attacks on the ‘no-fire zone' nevertheless stating that no civilians had been injured and that they only targeted rebel positions in a retaliatory act.
The opposition, Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) have silenced their guns as Vellupillai Prabhakaran was reportedly killed by Sri Lankan military on Monday. Sri Lankans in Colombo cheered and celebrated the end of the 26-year war against the LTTE. President Mahinda Rajapaksa said in a speech to his nation on Tuesday that the war was finally over.
What this means for the hundreds of thousands of asylum seekers across the world remains to be seen.
Asservatham leaves his coffee untouched and stares at the table, only looking up at his fellow Tamil compatriot translate for him when asked a question. Coming from a big family of four brothers and three sisters, his family members have now dispersed to different continents and some are just another number in the growing figure of casualties.
A high school education and a steady job as a distributor for a health care company seems more like a distant dream than the past. Asservatham has seen better times. Now he lives in a small rented room with his wife, unemployed and without refugee status. With the initial help and continuing support of anonymous aid, Asservatham is better off than many.
But he is in limbo as a supported asylum-seeker hoping for the protection which comes with refugee status. He fears a second denial by the UNHCR and the vulnerability and danger that comes with it. Presently, there are several hundred Sri Lankan refugees and asylum-seekers in Thailand.
When asked about Sri Lanka, his eyes leave the table and are fixated on us, as if the question came out of nowhere. He tries to put it in plain words, ‘I can't explain the situation, because it's very difficult. In the fighting area, many Tamil people, including children were being killed by the army.'
As he pauses, he adds ‘I don't know if my father is alive.' His composed demeanor breaks as the man cries and as quickly as he broke, wipes away the tears. He recollects the death of his two brothers, one a member of the LTTE and the other a civilian, both whom died in separate bomb blasts. He also talks of torture.
His younger brother fled to India with his mother after having been questioned and tortured by the Sri Lankan Criminal Investigation Division (CID) as having associations with their Tamil Tiger brother. Asservatham also has war wounds having been beaten and denied medication while in police custody.
Asservatham was arrested in his church back in Mullaitivu when seeking protection from his priest. He found none and was taken into custody. Once again, seeking protection and being denied status, he appears discouraged by the UNHCR but states that he is waiting for the appeal to go through.
‘I have to live day by day, if not I will commit suicide'. When asked what he hopes for and wants, he simply asks for understanding of the Sri Lankan situation from the Thai government and the international stage.
‘The media, the world, everyone knows about my problem. But I don't know why people don't do anything. Why there is silence. Children are dust there and yet there is silence.' He continues and softly appeals, ‘Please take care of my people; Tamil people are very few now'.
For himself, a re-connection with his father is all a son can ask for, and just peace, ‘I want a peaceful life, wherever it is.' His name promises the blessed life, but blessedness is not even a feasibility, but rather just a name.
The writer is programme manger, South East Asia Programme, FORUM-Asia Secretariat, Bangkok.

