Today is World Refugee Day. Right now, there are 43.4 million refugees around the world, a figure that could double in the next decade, according to the head of UNHCR.

Refugees are human beings. Individuals who’ve fled their countries to escape violence, persecution, war, ethnic cleansing, and genocide, seeking safety and security in another nation. According to the UNHCR, at least 117.3 million people around the world have been forced to flee their homes. Of the nearly 43.4 million current refugees, around 40% are under the age of 18. There are also millions of stateless people who have been denied a nationality and lack access to basic rights such as education, health care, employment, and freedom of movement.

Throughout my life’s journey, I have met many refugees— children, young adults, and the elderly—in places like Germany, Italy, the USA, and Bangladesh. Their stories are both harrowing and inspiring.

In Bangladesh, I met children at the largest refugee camp in the world. These individuals traveled day and night to cross the border, constantly fearing the Myanmar military’s violence. In Germany, I encountered children from Syria, Iraq, and African countries who once dreamt of becoming doctors and engineers like their parents or loved ones, their dreams overshadowed by an uncertain future. A young adult from Afghanistan, whom I met in Germany, shared that he was born in war, never knowing a single day without bloodshed and death. Despite this, having secured refugee status in Germany and learning the language, he was hopeful about attending medical school and serving humanity.

Through my visits to refugee camps and my conversations with refugees, it became clear that no one wants to be a refugee. Everyone I spoke with longed to return to home, where they had a life and beautiful memories. They do not wish to be looked down upon simply because they were forced to flee. Like all of us, they simply want to live. During a visit to a facility in Germany, I met university students, doctors, lawyers, and pharmacists who spend their evenings teaching refugees the German language. When I asked why they were doing this despite their demanding schedules, they responded, “We don’t want to be defined by our previous generations’ mistakes, but rather by what we’re doing for humanity.” This response deeply moved me. These young German students are paving the way for a world built upon empathy, dignity, and humanity, offering valuable lessons for all of us.

Especially relevant are the countries that export arms and import refugees. These nations need to stop their war-driven economies, which produce refugees abroad while fostering hate and intolerance against them at home. When I asked Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh what they wanted most, they overwhelmingly told me they wanted to go home. War is a business of the rich and powerful, keeping poor and weak nations in perpetual conflict, supporting dictators and brutal regimes and allowing them to persecute their people. If these leaders and arms manufacturers considered that they feed their children at the expense of other children’s lives, their luxurious lifestyles earned by the death and destruction of innocent people, perhaps they would act more humanely.

On this World Refugee Day, let us commit to building a world where empathy, understanding, and peace prevail over conflict, violence, and persecution. Together, we can create a future where no one is forced to flee their home, and everyone can live with dignity and hope.

Honorable Members of Congress,

I write this with a heavy heart, burdened by the weight of our nation’s continual mass shootings. Horrific events like the Rob Elementary School massacre in Uvalde, TX – now more than a year ago –seem to have become a normal part of American life. Mass shootings in the U.S. are on record pace for 2023. Roughly every week a community in our country faces this kind of deadly violence, just the other day in Chicago. In the aftermath at Sandy Hook Elementary School, over a decade ago, the entire nation cried out for help. Instead of valuing human life with meaningful reform, you shared hollow prayers and empty condolences. You, the very people who are elected to protect us. 

Your prayers didn’t stop the murderers from purchasing weapons of war, nor have they stemmed the tide of violence that continues to claim innocent lives. From Sandy Hook to Buffalo to Charleston and far too many more, lives are forever lost. It is time for you, our elected to transcend partisan politics, money, and power to keep safe those you took an oath to protect. It is time for action.

It is simply unfathomable to me that anyone would play politics with human life. For the thousands who have been silenced by mass shootings, and the 352,000+ children who have experienced gun violence in school since Columbine, we must rise above impasses and strive for a society where our children, loved ones, and fellow citizens are shielded from harm.

In the days following the tragic, yet entirely preventable, Uvalde massacre, I visited the site to pay my respects. The air was heavy with grief, a profound pain weighed on my chest, and tears filled the eyes of everyone silently passing by. I witnessed children, some no older than six or seven, offering flowers as a token of love and respect for their fallen peers. As I sat on the ground, paralyzed with sorrow, I was once again transported to the moments when I lay on a cold, concrete floor, my own blood pooling beneath me, having been shot in the face by a white supremacist in the aftermath of 9/11. I could not comprehend the thoughts that must have consumed those little angels during these similar, terrifying moments of life and death. Did they cry out for their mothers as I did? How can those who claim to be civilized allow such barbaric and senseless killings to occur — and repeatedly? How can our elected officials, those who possess the power to halt this madness, turn a blind eye to their fellow human beings, their own children, loved ones, and even the God they proclaim to pray to when these catastrophic events occur?

Honorable members of Congress, the time for change is now. Even as a survivor of gun violence, I’m not against responsible gun ownership, but it is crucial to acknowledge that citizens of a civilized society do not require weapons of war. The responsibility lies with you to rise above partisan divides and act in the best interest of the people you were elected to serve. There is no excuse. The cries for sensible gun reform and the demand for measures that protect the lives of our children and citizens cannot be silenced any longer. We implore you to let your actions speak louder than your prayers. Demonstrate the courage and resolve necessary to enact meaningful change. Do not let the legacy of Sandy Hook, Uvalde, Buffalo, Nashville, Allen, and countless other tragedies only be inaction and empty condolences.

As someone who knows what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a bullet, I implore you to find the strength to lead with empathy, integrity, and a commitment to the welfare of all Americans, to human life.

With sincere hope,

Rais Bhuiyan, Survivor & Founder, World Without Hate

World Without Hate’s documentary Pain and Peace, in post-production, captures stories from survivors and former perpetrators of hate-fueled violence, an antidote to divisive forces and toxic messaging.

As I stood in the crowded East Room during the conclusion of the first of its kind, United We Stand Summit, President Biden reminded us that “The power is within each of us to transform the story of our time to rise together against hate, to show who we are. We are the United States of America. There nothing, nothing, beyond our capacity.” The President’s address, my fellow panelists, and the elected officials, civil rights groups, law enforcement, faith, and community leaders, and all who attended renewed my hope for peace, understanding, and healing.

Attending the Summit was an incredibly emotional experience. I couldn’t help but reflect upon the last 21 years – from lying in my own blood fighting to stay alive, to this very moment, being invited to the White House to share my story and commitment to combating hate and violence. I’m always honored to share my experiences in hopes of inspiring others to get to know the other because once you do, it is hard to hate them.

When I first arrived in the U.S. and later when I moved to Dallas, I found Americans to be friendly, often curious about where I was from and what brought me to America. Immediately after September 11^th, 2001, everything changed. Even the regular customers who came into the convenience store where I worked looked at me with suspicion. Others became angry at me. I no longer felt safe, or even welcome, in the country and community that had embraced me just days before.

Anti-Muslim sentiment was immediate. My faith and dark skin now made me feel like a target. I realized my life in America would never be the same. In the instant it took the pull the trigger, my American dream turned nightmare. I lost everything except for my life, but held tightly to my hopes, dreams, and faith. Though my face and skull are riddled with bullet fragments, and I lost sight in one eye, but gained another kind of vision in my heart, a vision to help create a world based upon mutual respect, dignity, and understanding where we, and our next generations, can coexist peacefully. While I continue to make peace with my pain, there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not reminded or affected by my attack.

Occasionally, I hear that my story is “old” and too many people only know me as a 9/11 hate crime survivor. While it may seem irrelevant to most, I believe it is vital to continue sharing stories like mine because tragically, hate fueled violence continues to grow in our country. And those of us who bear the brunt don’t have the luxury of putting the experience behind us — ever. The ongoing physical, mental, and emotional ramifications of being a hate crime victim are felt every day. Every. Single. Day. Part of my mission to prevent and disrupt hate and violence is to save others from having to live a life like mine. I wish it for no one.

To make matters more complicated, after 9/11 hate in the U.S. took a dramatic turn. Multiple groups such as Muslims, Sikhs, and people of Arab and South-Asian descent — or those perceived to be members of these groups — were suddenly labeled as threats, as terrorists living among us. As the years went on, anti-Muslim rhetoric and hate fueled violence skyrocketed. Tragically, the trends continue today. According to Cynthia Miller-Idriss, Professor, School of Public Affairs & School of Education at American University from a study last year, only half of Asian-American-Pacific Islanders said they feel safe going out. I can certainly attest to this.

Islamophobia is used to create misinformation, intolerance, fear, and hate against a group of people still truly unknown to most. This is ultimately why I was attacked. It is also why I continue to live in fear, never knowing exactly how someone might perceive me along the way. Islamophobia is used as a political weapon — to energize political bases and to divert voter focus from actual, fact-based issues, aiding in political and personal gain. We saw it with former president Obama during his presidential campaigns and we saw it again during the 2016 and 2020 elections. The seed of intolerance, fear, and hate against Blacks, Hispanics, Asian-Americans, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, LGBTQ, and non-binary folks, and too many others has been nurtured by more power and money than the rest of us can fight against. Prime examples include the evil manifested and displayed on Jan 6^th and the rise of anti-Asian hate due to Covid.

During the last twenty-years, while our country had to fight and dismantle foreign terrorist groups, home grown terrorists and extremist groups have flourished at the detrimental expense of religious and ethnic minorities. Hate knows no bounds. When we allow hate to spread against one group, it eventually spreads to others. We’re living it today, as a highly divided nation, where certain elected officials and the media continue pinning Americans against each other for power and profit. These tactics destroy and take lives.

It’s never too late to do the right thing. I do applaud the Biden-Harris administration for focusing on this issue, taking initiative to prevent the further fragmenting of our nation, working with people across party-line and encouraging all Americans to come together, and to find ways to prevent and disrupt hate and violence. Each of my fellow panelists at the United We Stand Summit – Mayra, Vilma, Pardeep, Joseph, and Dawn have paid the ultimate price because of hate fueled violence. While carrying life-long pain, we have all found purpose – a shared purpose to combat hate and find our way to a more united nation. While the White House’s Summit was just one day, the hard work continues. I am encouraged by the promises Vice President Harris, Ambassador Rice, President Biden and all who shared the vision for ongoing community-wide collaborations made to us. I echo the sentiment of everyone in the East Room on September 15^th – we won’t let hate win. There’s nothing that we can’t fix or achieve when we work together.

I invite you to subscribe to our email list and follow us on social media to join our journey toward a world without violence, a world without victims and a world without hate.

Join Us – World Without Hate

~ Rais Bhuiyan, Founder, World Without Hate