Hello world,

It’s been a while since these frolicking fingers ran across the keyboard to tell tales of Refugees United’s genesis. We haven’t been lazy, not out of the loop – quite on the contrary. With the recent launch of RU at this year’s Clinton Global Initiative alongside Ericsson, UNHCR, MTN and Delta Partners, the response has simply been overwhelming. (Much more on this in later posts.)

So, forgive me for for any similarities to drunk driving, we’re not forgetting our way, just slurring back on track through trails of too much to tell.  

So, onwards with Mansour:

With years falling behind him Mansour grew into his new life. Through the Danish Red Cross he was connected with a wonderful woman who became like a foster mom, taking him under her wing and spreading her love. Without us knowing much, words and thoughts are still scarce on all things past, we do know that Mansour found as close a home to home as he could, given his extreme circumstances.

Mansour made friends with other Afghan refugees, mostly unaccompanied minors suffering same fate as him, finding whatever solace they could in each other, forming new bonds across friendships resembling family. Life returned to a reasonably happy state. But always, in every minute of every hour, the persistent shadow of memories clung with him, reminding him that all was not, and is not, as it should be. 

Reaching adulthood, Mansour enrolled in a class to become an auto mechanic, following his long interest in all things motors, and quickly, in true Mansour style, rose to the top of his class. But things were not to be as easy as that. In a land where we’re afforded most, we rarely afford some much. More to come on this in next installment, we’re out of space 🙂

David and Christopher