SHARE
COPY LINK

LEARNING

Gabriel mastered Swedish and got accepted onto a medicine degree in just 7 months

When the response to his university application arrived, Gabriel Shamoun was too nervous to open the letter.

Gabriel mastered Swedish and got accepted onto a medicine degree in just 7 months
Photo: Private

Studying medicine had been his goal for as long as he could remember, and Shamoun has had to overcome more obstacles than most to get there, from studying in Syria during its civil war, to mastering the Swedish language in just seven months.

“I asked my brother to read the letter for me. The moment he said I had been accepted, I was hysterically happy,” remembers the 20-year-old, who will begin his medicine degree at Linkoping University on August 15th this year.

Shamoun grew up in al-Qamishli, Syria, and his studies have always taken a high priority. His parents, a dentist and an ophthalmologist, encouraged Shamoun to focus on his studies despite the tough conditions – even as the war led to water shortages and blackouts as the electricity would go off for hours on a daily basis.

“The greatest difficulty for me was being unable to read for my high school final exams, because the lights went off for hours each day,” he says. “I couldn’t bear the thought of not getting the top grades in my exams – then I wouldn’t be able to study medicine.

“The only solution was to change my routine, so I began waking up at 5am so I could study during daylight, from dawn until sunset.”

Shamoun managed to complete the high school programme with exceptional grades, and kept studying right up until the family left Syria in 2014.

Once they arrived in Sweden that September, Shamoun and his brother were keen to get back to their books straight away, but were told it could take a year to receive their asylum decisions, and they would be unable to start school without a Swedish personal number.


Photo: Private

But having worked so hard, Shamoun wasn’t going to give up on his dream.

He started researching the best way to learn Swedish independently, and came across the story of a Greek immigrant, Thoidor Kalifatides, who had moved to Sweden and mastered the language.

“He inspired me, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps,” says Shamoun. He went to the library and began reading Kalifatides’ books and a grammar manual, before moving on to Swedish classics by August Strindberg, including Röda Rummet and Fröken Julie.

“A sentence would take me a day to understand and remember; a page took me a week,” remembers Shamoun.

Then he faced another problem: “I discovered these books were written in the classic Swedish, not the language which is used today – when I spoke it, people didn’t understand me!”

Shamoun then adapted his learning, studying modern books, such as the Sherlock Holmes mysteries and the Da Vinci code, translated from English to Swedish. He had already read them in Syria, allowing him to grasp the language more easily and progress more quickly.

“My daily routine was reading, eating and sleeping, and after seven months the language became a part of me,” says Shamoun.

In September 2015, the bookworm received his residence permit; by this point, he was getting through one novel each day.

“I immediately ran to the Komvux [Swedish municipal adult education centre] to find out how I could get my Syrian grades converted and complete higher education in Sweden”, says Shamoun. “I was so determined to start university in 2016 and no later!”

After a three-month wait, he was given an appointment with a student counsellor at Komvux, who advised him on his university application. He studied for the courses independently before taking the assessment exams – and passing with flying colours.

His story has been reported in Swedish media, and Shamoun has been praised for being accepted onto one of the most competitive courses after just six months of studying. Now, he can look forward to achieving his dream of becoming a doctor.

SYRIA

‘I can’t go back’: Syrian refugees in Denmark face limbo after status revoked

Bilal Alkale's family is among the hundred or so Syrian refugees in Denmark whose lives are on hold amid an insufferable legal limbo -- their temporary residency permits have been revoked but they can't be deported. Now, they have no rights.

Syrian refugee Bilal Alkale and his daughter Rawan at their home in Lundby, Denmark on November 17th 2021. 
Syrian refugee Bilal Alkale and his daughter Rawan at their home in Lundby, Denmark on November 17th 2021. Photo: Thibault Savary / AFP

Alkale, who until recently ran his own small transportation company in Denmark, found out in March he wasn’t allowed to stay in the Scandinavian country where he has lived as a refugee since 2014, as Copenhagen now considers it safe for Syrians to return to Damascus.

His wife and three of his four children were also affected by the decision taken by Danish authorities.

Once the ruling was confirmed on appeal in late September — like 40 percent of some 200 other cases examined so far — Alkale and his family were ordered to leave.

READ ALSO: Danish refugee board overturns decisions to send home Syrians

They were told that if they didn’t go voluntarily, they would be placed in a detention centre.

The family has refused to leave.

Normally they would have been deported by now, but since Copenhagen has no diplomatic relations with Damascus, they can’t be. And so they wait.

Days and weeks go by without any news from the authorities.

In the meantime, the family has been stripped of their rights in Denmark.

Alkale can’t sleep, his eyes riveted on his phone as he keeps checking his messages.

“What will become of me now?” the 51-year-old asks.

“Everything is off. The kids aren’t going to school, and I don’t have work,” he says, the despair visible on his weary face as he sits in the living room of the home he refurbished himself in the small village of Lundby, an hour-and-a-half’s drive south of Copenhagen.

“All this so people will get annoyed enough to leave Denmark.”

For him, returning to Syria means certain death.  

“I can’t go back, I’m wanted,” he tells AFP.

And yet, he has no way to earn a living here.

“As a foreigner staying illegally in Denmark, your rights are very limited,” notes his lawyer Niels-Erik Hansen, who has applied for new residency permits for the family.

In mid-2020, Denmark became the first European Union country to re-examine the cases of about 500 Syrians from Damascus, which is under the control of Bashar al-Assad’s regime, saying “the current situation in Damascus is no longer such as to justify a residence permit or the extension of a residence permit”. 

The decision was later widened to include the neighbouring region of Rif Dimashq.

Despite a wave of Danish and international criticism, the Social Democratic government — which has pursued one of Europe’s toughest immigration policies — has refused to budge.

READ ALSO:

The Alkale family is considering leaving for another European country, even though they risk being sent back to Denmark. 

Alkale’s oldest child was already over the age of 18 when they arrived in Denmark and therefore has her own residency permit, currently under review.

Of the three other children, only the youngest, 10-year-old Rawan, still has the carefree ways of a child.

Majed, 14, says he’s “bummed”, while Said, 17, who was studying to prepare for professional chef school, says he now has no idea what his future holds.

Only a handful of Syrians have so far been placed in detention centres, regularly criticised for poor sanitary conditions.

Asmaa al-Natour and her husband Omar are among the few.

They live in the Sjælsmark camp, a former army barracks surrounded by barbed wire and run by the prisons system since late October.

“This centre should disappear, it’s not good for humans, or even for animals. There are even rats,” says al-Natour.

READ ALSO:

 The couple, who have two sons aged 21 and 25, arrived in Denmark in 2014.

“My husband and I opened a shop selling Arabic products, it was going well. Then I decided to resume my studies, but now everything has just stopped,” says al-Natour, who “just wants to get (her) life back.” 

“Going back to Syria means going to prison, or even death, since we’re opposed to Bashar al-Assad. He’s a criminal.”

Niels-Erik Hansen, who also represents this couple, says his clients are being “held hostage by the Danish authorities.”

The government is trying “to spread the message that ‘in Denmark, we almost deport to Syria’,” he says.

Amnesty International recently criticised Syrian security forces’ use of violence against dozens of refugees who returned home.

Danish authorities meanwhile insist it’s safe for Syrians to go back.

“If you aren’t personally persecuted … there haven’t been acts of war in Damascus for several years now. And that is why it is possible for some to go back,” the government’s spokesman for migration, Rasmus Stoklund, tells AFP.

Some 35,500 Syrians currently live in Denmark, more than half of whom arrived in 2015, according to official statistics.

SHOW COMMENTS