As many as 1 million people have died in Somalia’s decades-long civil war. Many more have fled, often without a country to go to. Most have ended up in refugee camps, sometimes for decades.
Since the African country collapsed into civil war in 1991, the
United States has offered refuge to many Somalis through Temporary
Protected Status (TPS), which allows recipients to live and work in the
United States while their country is considered too dangerous to return
to.
Muna was one of them. She landed in San Diego in 1999, her 6-month-old baby in tow, knowing no one, knocking on doors to ask if anyone needed a babysitter. Now she is a U.S. citizen and runs her own daycare business. But it was a tough slog to get here.
Muna’s story exemplifies the resilience and perseverance that is
common among immigrants, as well as the role immigrant women often fill
as caretakers to America’s children. “Everything is hard,” Muna said.
“Nothing is easy to become an American and get your papers.”
In her first four years in the country, Muna lived in 20 different
houses, working as a nanny and housekeeper at a starting wage of $6.45
per hour. Sometimes she slept on the floor. “When people see you don’t
have nothing, they can do anything,” she said.
“I didn’t mind—but when they started hitting my daughter it was too
much,” she said.
“Every house had kids, and the boys, some of them, would hit.”
While doing domestic work, Muna did manage to swing a little time for
herself, during which she worked at a store within walking distance of
the house. She saved enough money between the two jobs to rent an
apartment, and settled into life as a full-time retail salesperson,
working her way up to store manager. She met and married a U.S. citizen,
had a second daughter, and became a naturalized citizen in 2023.
When she was ready to start her own business, in 2018, she turned to
childcare. She opened a small daycare center in her home, licensed to
care for eight children at a time. Her afternoon slots are always
full—“I have to turn people away”—and she is saving to buy a bigger
house so she can become licensed to watch more children. Her daughter
works as her assistant.
“It’s a lot of kids to run,” she said, laughing. “But it’s worth
it.”
As owner-operator, Muna tends to babies, drives children to and from
school, brings kids to the park and the library, and helps them with
their homework. She also serves on the board of Global Village, a
commercial and residential housing project currently in development, and
volunteers for the Partnership for the Advancement of New Americans,
where she helps new refugees. But for the first time since coming to
America, she has weekends off.
“In the seven years, I know what the Saturday-Sunday thing is,” she said, laughing. “It’s so nice, so nice.”
