How Des Moines teachers turned on the light for scared, angry and lonely refugee

Ferdinand Alobo fled the Congo with his family when he was 3.

There was a war over the central African nation's rich gold mines and iron ore deposits.

But as a toddler, Ferdinand only understood that people around him were dying — his friends, family and neighbors.

Ferdinand, his parents, sister, aunt and uncle entered Tanzania as refugees and eventually were resettled in Malawi.

The family lived in the refugee camps for 10 years. Ferdinand grew up quickly.

He started working at age 11, first making bricks from mud for houses in the camps. Then he carried water for his family and other refugees.

He sold sugar cane, pears and mangos.

Sometimes the family would leave home at 6 a.m. and walk for miles to a nearby town. They traded with locals — food for clothes, or when they had it, money for other wares they needed.

They would carry everything they brought back to the refugee camp in baskets on their heads, returning at 6 p.m.

In 2013, the United Nations Council for Refugees approved Ferdinand's family for resettlement to one of three countries: Australia, Canada or the United States.

The family flew from South Africa to New York City and then to Sacramento, California.

Only Ferdinand's father spoke some English. He worked as a security guard.

His mother and younger sister stayed at home. Ferdinand and his uncle went to school.

"I only knew how to say, 'Hi,'" he said. "I didn't speak to anybody other than to say, 'hi.'"

Ferdinand and his family were isolated and confused by the new culture. There were no more trades of food for clothes.

"In Africa, you could ask your neighbor for some food," he said. "You can't do that here. People think you're trying to steal from them. Here, you have to work for money to pay for everything."

Ferdinand struggled in school. He stayed inside except for occasional trips out to swim.

In October 2014, the family moved to Des Moines. Ferdinand enrolled at Meredith Middle School on the city's northwest side.

He still spoke almost no English. He sat in classrooms as lessons were given and understood nothing.

"It was like everybody saw the light, and all I saw was darkness," Ferdinand said.

Ferdinand's isolation started to bubble up. He saw people laughing and assumed they were laughing at him. He got into trouble for fighting.

Meredith teachers Caitlin Floro, who teaches special education, and Kaitlin Ogden, who teaches English language learners, took a special interest in Ferdinand.

They encouraged Ferdinand to read in English as much as he could as often as he could and talk to others to improve his fluency.

"Every night I would read for 30 minutes," Ferdinand said. "Then I started understanding people more and talking to people more. I started to make friends. This started to feel like my home."

Ferdinand joined the cross country team. He thought he was going to travel the country.

"We got on the bus to go to Indianola and I was like, 'Man, we're going to New York,'" he remembered.

With Ferdinand's parents both working, Floro gave Ferdinand rides home from practices.

They worked on his English by listening to music on her car stereo. He would sing along with the lyrics.

"I didn't speak well, but we jammed," he said.

Suddenly the boy who witnessed the savagery of war and struggled to adapt to a new culture was doing something he had not done often since leaving Africa: Smiling.

Adam Freese teaches social studies at Meredith and coaches the Hoover High School cross country team. He believes Ferdinand's experiences make him an ideal competitor.

"In a sport like cross country, you really need to be motivated and you have to have a good work ethic," Freese said. "The more time he spent running, the better he got at it and the more friends he made."

Freese teaches a unit in his class about refugees, particularly powerful given many of the city's refugees move to the northwest side of the city that feeds Hoover.

"It's important to hear stories like Ferdinand's because there a lot of people who grew up here who don't understand that the people in their school and classes had very different experiences than they did," Freese said.

Ferdinand is now a sophomore at Hoover. He runs cross country, wrestles and plays soccer. He wants to be a teacher or maybe an FBI agent.

Christmas is the big celebration in Ferdinand's family; it always has been. When they lived in Africa, it was the day everyone dressed in their best clothes and feasted.

"It was the only day of the year we ate chicken and rice," Ferdinand said. "In Africa, you ate two or sometimes three times a day. Here, I eat whenever I want. I have rice every day."

Last month, Ferdinand joined a group of Hoover students who visited elementary schools to celebrate International Children's Day.

Consider that: The boy who was once so isolated he stayed inside almost all day is now an ambassador for his high school, encouraging the next generation of youth.

"All these people here have changed my life," Ferdinand said. "I always want to help people. I've got to make other people's lives better."

Ferdinand's story is more than a refugee succeeding in a country that is divided about welcoming outsiders. It's a story of the daily miracles that occur in our city's public schools.

Ferdinand was scared, lonely and angry. Now his young life is driven by purpose, dedication to his teammates, friends, family and a future helping others in the land so far from his home that helped him find his direction.

Daniel P. Finney, Register Metro Voice columnist, is a Drake University alumnus who grew up in Winterset and east Des Moines. Reach him at 515-284-8144 or dafinney@dmreg.com. More from Finney: DesMoinesRegister.com/Finney