The daughter of a Palestinian father and a Ukrainian mother, Zoya Miari, grew up in a Palestinian refugee camp in Lebanon where armed clashes and shelling were constant. In 2021, amid an escalation of violence, the family decided to emigrate to Ukraine in search of a more hopeful future. The following year, in 2022, Russia invaded the neighbouring country, and war broke out. Zoya and her family emigrated again to Switzerland. In this journey, she has experienced first-hand unequal treatment based on her origin: stigma as a Palestinian refugee and empathy as a Ukrainian refugee. At 22, she created the “Waves to Home” project and became a Peace Ambassador for the One Young World summit, on a path of struggle and resilience to break stereotypes and false narratives.
You have become a refugee twice and lived a double experience. You say that one side of you, as a Ukrainian refugee, is being empathised and sympathized with, while the other side, as a Palestinian refugee, is being dehumanised. How do you live this duality, and why do you think that happens?
Yes. I have always felt this internal conflict for this double standard. If I introduce myself as Ukrainian to other people, it is easy for them to be empathetic. When I decided to move to Switzerland after escaping from the Ukrainian war, in just ten days, I received the status of a refugee, which allowed me to work. In just ten days! For the first time in my life, I was allowed to work. That never happened before in Lebanon.
Here, the role of the media and the internet is vital. The Western media have humanised my Ukrainian side through the language they use, while the same media dehumanise my Palestinian side. They talk about Palestinian children being dead, and they are not saying by whom they were killed or not naming it as a genocide. So I wonder how is it possible for me to be seen different if I am the same human being? Just because I hold one or another passport, can that dictate my life?
We need to learn from the way that Ukrainian refugees have been treated to treat other refugees in the world, from Palestine, Congo, Sudan or wherever.
So, do you act to transform these languages and the mainstream visions? How do you do that?
There are so many stereotypes about refugees, like being poor or uneducated, and I want to change the narrative. I genuinely believe in the power of storytelling. When I came to Switzerland, I lived with a Swiss family who said: “Zoya, you have a powerful story; you need to share it”. Therefore, I started sharing my story in schools, and then it went to newspapers, conferences, etc. I found that storytelling connects people on a human-to-human level. I made them look at me as a human rather than all of these identities. I found the power of storytelling, and I have been using this tool for two or three years.
I found that storytelling connects people on a human-to-human level. Then they look at me as a human rather than all of my identities
Is that also the purpose of your project, Waves to Home? How does it come out?
In 2022, after escaping the war in Ukraine, I participated in the One Young World, a global summit for young leaders. It was the first time that I connected with Palestinian people from Palestine. I never had friends from Palestine because they are not allowed to come to Lebanon, and we are not allowed to go to Palestine. We talked about our stories, struggles, and definitions of home. We felt a genuine and deep connection because we created a safe place to be vulnerable and talk to share the pain we carry as refugees, migrants, or displaced people. There was so much power within ourselves; many people worldwide needed that.
This is how we created this global storytelling movement, Waves to Home, which started with refugees and migrants from different parts of the world talking about their stories and sharing them resiliently. Instead of having this pain paralyse us, making us victims in life, we have the power of storytelling, changing how we tell our stories to the world and ourselves.
What does “home” mean to you?
That is a beautiful question. I used to question myself my whole life because I never felt at home in Lebanon, Ukraine, or Palestine; I never felt at home in Ukraine, as I had not lived there my whole life, and the same is true in Palestine. I have never been to Palestine because, as Palestinian refugees, we were never allowed even to visit it. Therefore, my home is a place that I created within myself. It is the safest place, and I take it with me wherever I go.
The power of storytelling also means presenting yourself as an actor who can transform violence instead of being a victim.
Yes. We, refugees, all carry pain, but this pain could be used positively or negatively. I can use the pain to limit me or to create another cycle of violence. On the other hand, I could use my pain and tell myself a story that does not limit me but rather a story of being a warrior and a fighter. The way I would use my pain is to promote peace. Therefore, instead of becoming a violent weapon, my pain would become a peaceful weapon. I was able to create peace in my story because of the way I see my own story.
Instead of having the pain paralyse us, making us victims in life, we have the power of storytelling, changing how we tell our stories to the world and ourselves
What does “peace” mean to you?
We can only talk of peace if we are talking about justice because peace and justice come together. I can only be a peace ambassador if I am fighting for justice.
Is your work from the diaspora focused on your countries of origin (Ukraine and Palestine) or your host country (Switzerland)?
We work in a global movement. I am not only covering my Palestinian or Ukrainian side; we are also working with Sudanese storytellers and other communities. There is something familiar among all the refugees: our struggles and the way we understand each other’s pain. If you are fighting for someone who is oppressed, you have to fight for all the oppressed people, and we have to look at humans for who they are as humans.
Palestinians are being dehumanized and not looked at as humans, who are moms, dads, and children. I have been in Auschwitz to learn about the history and to change these narratives. I like the message of “no one is free until everyone is free”.
I was able to create peace in my story because of the way I see my own story. Instead of becoming a violent weapon, my pain would become a peaceful weapon
Is this also a way to fight against polarisation and promote dialogue between communities?
This is very important. When I share my story, I do that without saying, “I’m Palestinian” or “I’m Ukrainian” because then people would connect with me on a human level, which is the power of storytelling. To create a safe space, we start our activities with this question: “Who are you as a human without telling me your achievements or your external identities? Just tell me who you are as a human.”
Most of the time, we share similar values. Therefore, this is what storytelling can do. We, the oppressed people, are all against oppressive regimes and injustices. We are together against something bigger than us.