This website uses cookies to improve the user experience. Privacy statement

  • XSRF-TOKEN-protection
  • Browsersessie-ID
  • Cookie consent preferences
  • Analytics storage
  • Ad user data
  • Ad personalization
  • Ad storage
September 5th 2024

Having a job puts newcomers back in the driver's seat

  • In practice

Since they are allowed to work more than 24 weeks a year, more and more asylum seekers are finding paid employment, even during their procedure. The relaxation is a step in the right direction, according to professor Jaco Dagevos and status holders Jackline Rugamba and Abdulrahman Al-Tabali. 'There is nothing worse than waking up and not knowing what to do.' Martijn van der Donk interviewed Jaco, Jackline and Abdulrahman for magazine OneWorld.

Please note: this article was translated using a translator app

Since November last year, asylum seekers have been allowed to work more than 24 weeks a year, and employers are eagerly taking advantage of this. Last year, the number of work permits for asylum seekers tripled (from 600 to 2,000), and this year the UWV expects to issue 7,000 'employment permits'.

 However, there are still many obstacles that prevent asylum seekers from finding work quickly. While they benefit from paid work: they build new relationships and better integration. Not working, on the other hand, is bad for mental well-being. What does work mean for newcomers? Jackline Rugamba (30) and Abdulrahman Al-Tabali (26) share their story.

Jackline Rugamba (30): 'There's nothing worse than waking up and not knowing what to do'

 In the lighting department of Ikea in Amsterdam, Ugandan Jackline Rugamba speaks Dutch effortlessly. Yes, she dutifully followed an integration course, she says, and she had language lessons three times a week. But the theory from the school books did not stick and she had trouble not falling asleep during the lessons. Only here, in her lighting department where she has been working for three years now, do all those words take shape and meaning. She knows the Dutch name for everything that has to do with lamps and lighting. “Here I know the language well enough to be able to speak Dutch with the customers.”

'My colleagues in Uganda were my second family'

 Work was her mental salvation, Rugamba says firmly. When she fled Uganda to the Netherlands in 2016 for reasons she prefers to keep to herself, she waited a year for the necessary papers to be allowed to work. “It was a very difficult period,” says Rugamba, who studied marketing at university in Uganda and worked for four years at the Ugandan branch of Unilever, where she made many social contacts. “My colleagues in Uganda were my second family. After work, we enjoyed life: we spontaneously had dinner together, went out for dinner, partied.”

 That social structure disappeared in the Netherlands in one fell swoop. “After living in an asylum seekers’ centre for six months, the municipality of Amsterdam gave me a house in Amsterdam-West. I felt very lonely there. I spent a few hours studying for my integration diploma three times a week, but otherwise I had nothing to do. The municipality advised me to go to a café to get to know people.” In Uganda, that would have been excellent advice, says Rugamba: “There you can easily meet strangers, but here I quickly discovered that it is difficult to get to know new people in a café. Most people here are very much on their own.”

 'There's nothing worse than waking up and not knowing what to do'

 More than three years ago, the municipality referred her to a training program for status holders at Ikea. Thanks to help from the refugee agency Refugee Talent Hub, Rugamba was admitted. It worked out well: “I not only learned to do the work, but also to really speak the language. After six months, they offered me a permanent job.” Rugamba is still grateful for that every day. “There’s nothing worse than waking up and not knowing what to do,” she sighs. “It’s a miracle that I didn’t end up drinking or taking drugs. I’ve seen enough unemployed refugees who couldn’t resist that temptation.”

From boredom to a new life

 Rugamba's experience is not unique, says Erasmus University professor Jaco Dagevos, who conducts research on migration and integration for the Social and Cultural Planning Office. "During the asylum procedure, people have little control over their lives, but if they have a job, they can give it direction. They then feel that they can finally really start integrating."

 'A paid job is a sign for asylum seekers that their new life has begun'

 According to Dagevos, the importance of work for refugees can hardly be underestimated. “Many of them have gone through a traumatic period,” he says. “Sometimes because of the situation in the country they fled, sometimes because of the uncertainty of the asylum procedure. A paid job is a sign for them that their new life has begun.”

 If it were up to Dagevos, refugees would be allowed to start working as soon as possible. “In 2021, we investigated the consequences of the reception period of Syrian refugees. Many of them struggled with poor mental health. There were several reasons for this, such as uncertainty about the outcome of their asylum application and the frequent moving between reception locations. However, an important cause was also boredom, the lack of something to do during the day. Work can play a very important role in this.”

Abdulrahman Al-Tabali (26): 'I saw others, who were also not allowed to work, becoming depressed'

 The image that Dagevos paints in his research is recognizable to Abdulrahman Al-Tabali. In 2016, he fled Yemen to escape the war. Via Turkey, he ended up in the Netherlands in 2022: first in Ter Apel, then in an asylum center in Almelo. “The first six months there were really tough. I had a good education as a graduate electrical engineer. Yet I was not allowed to work in the Netherlands yet.”

 This also applied to the twenty other refugees with whom Al-Tabali stayed in the Almelo shelter. “They were people who, like me, were all able to work. With good educations and a lot of professional knowledge. I saw many of them become depressed.”

 'I had to find my own way in the job market'

 After six months, Al-Tabali was tired of doing nothing. “I started doing volunteer work: I recruited others to do volunteer work. That way I could also help my fellow sufferers to spend their day usefully. I also followed many online courses to develop myself.” In the meantime, he continued to hope for a work permit and paid work. “I want to integrate in the Netherlands and make a contribution at the same time. I also want to support my family in Yemen financially.”

 Finding work in a foreign country is difficult, Al-Tabali found. “I had no network here. In the beginning, I really had to find my own way on the job market.” Al-Tabali missed a personal coach who lived nearby. Someone who could show him the ropes on the Dutch job market. Through intermediaries, like Rugamba, he came into contact with Refugee Talent Hub, where he was advised to look outside his field of expertise in electronics. “IT appealed to me.” That is how he came into contact with ABN Amro, who were looking for someone who could develop and support apps. Diplomas were not required, but the willingness to develop the necessary skills was. After a three-month training, he got the job.

'Dead-end' jobs

 The development paths that Rugamba and Al-Tabali found are, according to professor Dagevos, an important example of employers who are prepared to invest in a new employee for the long term. “Status holders still too often end up in 'dead end jobs': jobs with short-term contracts in which there are few opportunities to acquire skills, learn the language or build a social network, such as cleaning work.”

Statistics from CBS show that seven and a half years after obtaining a work permit, only 30 percent of asylum seekers have a permanent contract after obtaining a residence permit or refugee status. Of the total Dutch working population, 67 percent have a permanent contract.

 'Abolishing the 24-week requirement was a good first step'

 According to the SCP researcher, the government can do more to improve access to the labor market for asylum seekers. “Abolishing the 24-week requirement was a good first step, but asylum seekers still need a work permit and there are significant backlogs in registering asylum seekers and status holders with the Personal Records Database.” Without that registration, you cannot even get a contract.

 Since the beginning of 2022, the new Integration Act has been in force, in which municipalities have a major role in supporting newcomers in finding work. Dagevos: “In practice, this is often still difficult, because asylum seekers have to be guided in the AZC; often at a great distance from the municipality where they are on the waiting list for a home.”

'Appointment'

 Al-Tabali has been working at ABN Amro for ten months now and is satisfied. “It is nice to be able to have contact with Dutch colleagues. They help me learn the language. Sometimes we also meet up in the weekend.”

 Jackline Rugamba also feels more part of Dutch society since she started working at Ikea. Although the cultural differences are sometimes difficult. “After work I sometimes meet up with colleagues, but only after making an ‘appointment’.” Rugamba says the word with a disgusted face. She misses the spontaneous visits she was used to in Uganda.

 In the lighting department she talks extensively with a customer. "Sometimes I get comments that I take too much time, but I think personal attention is important. In that respect, the Dutch can still learn a lot from me," she laughs.

With thanks to OneWorld and Martijn van der Donk. Read the full article on oneworld.nl (in Dutch).