An Open Door
Before I was a care coordinator, I was an intern, and before I was an intern, I was a volunteer, and at the beginning of all of that, I met Aqal.
Aqal is a refugee from Afghanistan. He’s a family man in the traditional sense, my friend in the non-traditional. I have had some level of involvement with City of Refuge for four years, my friendship with Aqal has stretched across that entire period and continues presently.
I’ve helped Aqal in many ways: transportation as a volunteer, moving as an intern, currently providing case management for him and his family. The effort I am most proud of, a joint effort to be clear, occurred last year in securing them permanent, affordable housing.
Hospitality is the cornerstone of Afghan culture, and Aqal welcomed me into his home early on. He’d contact me with a need, I’d help as I could, and we’d conclude by sharing tea or a meal in the home. Aqal moved a few times in his first years in America, from one rental to another. Regardless of it being properly furnished after a move or profoundly messy from his kids, ending our time in the home was guaranteed. This shifted around the time I joined staff in summer 2024.
It puzzled me. Had our relationship changed? No, the home had. Aqal moved again before I started full-time. He did not renew the lease at his previous place, the rent was rising beyond affordability. When searching for a new rental, he found his options increasingly limited. Prices had jumped over the past year, and his family had grown to eight, meaning even more space was needed than before. In a last ditch effort, he found a landlord willing to accommodate his family. The only place available: a two-bed one-bath house.
This accommodation was better than nothing, but it wasn’t really a home. There was barely enough space for the family and certainly no space to welcome guests. Aqal began mentioning the need for a new home more frequently. Not selfishly, but with a desire for his wife to be comfortable, his children to play freely, and to proudly host guests again. What could we do though? His family and financial situations weren’t immediately changing and neither was the rental market. The toll of their living situation was heavy and with little hope for change.
Suddenly, surprisingly, fortunately an opportunity arose. Through a new Columbia Housing Authority project, a window opened up for the family to be properly housed again. It was not a guarantee and the application process was extensive, but Aqal and I formed a firm partnership to pursue the opportunity intently.
We planned, outlined our responsibilities, and worked together. The process began October 2025 with no surety of success. It ended days before Christmas with Aqal and his wife signing the lease and opening the door to a four-bed two-bath place they could not just afford but could also call home.
I am proud of Aqal for how he stepped up for his family. It was a can’t miss opportunity and he treated it as such. That said, it’s not the pinnacle of the family’s journey but a step in one of many goals. Aqal and his wife express their hope for homeownership one day. The current home is still a rental but the family’s ability to afford and remain in the home is secure for the future.
To my relief and definitely to his, Aqal very quickly invited me and many others back into the home for tea and a meal once again.
JJ Angelo
Refugee Care Coordinator
