Mpho Mokotso, a native of Lesotho, uprooted her life and relocated to Ireland alongside her 12-year-old daughter on the 21st of August, 2019. Driven by hopes of obtaining asylum, she initially resided in a hotel located in Dublin’s Ballsbridge. Her living arrangement was subsequently shifted to Mosney direct provision centre in County Meath due to the onset of the Covid pandemic.
In April of 2021, Mokotso was awarded her stay permit and embarked on her housing journey. Given her previous professional experience in managing properties, her search for accommodation was not excessively challenging. A rental opportunity surfaced in Bettystown, County Meath and she, alongside her daughter, transitioned there in December 2021.
Despite Mosney’s challenges, Mokotso fondly recalls her beachside strolls, mirroring her thoughts onto her daughter about her desire to reside near the houses that overlooked the beach. Today, the beach is merely a five-minute walk from their home.
Her considerations extended further, as she was keen on retaining her daughter’s current school setting. Having witnessed the transitioning from Ballsbridge to Mosney, Mokotso did not want her daughter to switch schools again. The transition period can be unsettling for children, she states, highlighting her daughter’s unique experience as the first black student in her initial school.
Despite the challenges, her daughter adapted well, surprising Mokotso with her high spirits and the attention she garnered from her peers.
Mokotso notes that her application for asylum was not triggered by political or religious oppression, but rather personal familial issues. This landed her in the “other” category of applicants. Her end goal was to secure a safe environment, a sentiment she felt strongly towards considering Lesotho’s statistics — a population of 2.3 million in 2022 within its compact territory that is less than half the size of Ireland.
Mokotso, originating from the tiny nation of Lesotho, remarks that in her homeland, everyone is practically acquainted due to its size. In fact, by connecting names to locations, someone could establish a link between two people within a matter of minutes, a characteristic she feels is mirrored in Ireland’s districts. Prior leaving for Ireland, only Mokotso and her daughter relocated, leaving their son with his father back in Lesotho. Mokotso affirms that she was confident he would be taken care of.
Before her departure, Mokotso made it a point to disclose her plan to her ailing father, as she could sense he was nearing his end and needed assurance she would be okay. His passing occurred two weeks after her arrival in Ireland, on a Saturday, leaving Mokotso to mourn alone. In order to maintain a calm demeanor for her daughter, she suppressed her grief and never truly mourned for her father, wondering if there would ever come a moment where she could break down.
On a day following her father’s demise, while on her way to lunch after skipping breakfast, an interaction in the elevator with a woman led to an emotional outpouring. The woman helped her to find accommodation and introduced her to the Movement of Asylum Seekers in Ireland (MASI), offering much-needed support as she navigated through Ireland alone with her daughter.
“MASI has become my home,” remarks Mokotso. She was first drawn to the group’s events due to their kindness and soon these events became her escape from the confines of the hotel she lived in.
As Mokotso expanded her social circle, a sense of solitude crept in as she had no interest in training to become a professional carer like many of her hotel neighbours were doing, she was certain she “lacked the compassion for such work”.
A chance meeting with a woman associated with the Dublin South City Partnership at an An Cosan event opened new avenues for Mokotso. The woman guided her towards additional training courses and in the academic year 2020-2021, she managed to juggle two online courses, using a mobile for one and a gifted laptop for the other.
Although Ireland presented a pleasant change from her home country Lesotho by being peaceful and friendly, Mokotso still faced challenges. She had worked in the town planning sector in Lesotho and wished to return to the same, but obstacles made her opt for a Master’s program in Refugee Integration at the Dublin City University.
Lacking the funds for the Master’s program, Mokotso found a benefactor in MASI and soon after graduating, she joined the Dublin South City Partnership as a community integration officer. As Mokotso describes it, her role involves reaching out to those who are marginalized and helping them access or bring services to them. She believes her background connects her more to those seeking international protection.
However, she wishes to break away from this narrative, while she appreciates her job and the support she receives from her colleagues, she feels trapped in her migrant identity. The associations with Schools of Sanctuary Ireland, as well as the Irish Network Against Racism, only solidify this feeling. She questions whether she wants to dedicate her life to these issues and laments that she can’t seem to close this chapter. Regardless, she derives satisfaction from her current work.
Mokotso reveals a singular issue she grapples with: “The clear presence of racism you find in some places makes it straightforward to deal with. But here, the situation is less definitive. It’s a bit challenging for me,” she elucidates.
“In this part of the world, there’s a lack of clarity. You might catch someone’s gaze, unsure if it’s aggressive or not. It’s uncertain how to respond. You could find yourself in a predicament merely by avoiding eye contact. It’s tricky to proceed because one individual could be amiable, whilst another could be abhorrent.”
Nevertheless, Mokotso intends to continue living in Ireland, specifically in Bettystown. She aspires to possess a house in her peaceful community someday.