Agency struggles to survive
By Roberto J. Manzano
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
1/08/07
Somalia native Sadiyo Maalim struggled to fill out an application for a job cleaning office buildings.
In the U.S. for six months, she didn't understand the meaning of a ZIP code.
The south St. Louis resident found help navigating the customs of her new country in a modest two-story building behind a church on Arsenal Street. There, caseworkers with the African Mutual Assistance Association of Missouri helped the 20-year-old and others like her: immigrants and refugees settling into new surroundings.
"I always get help from these people," said Maalim, who on a recent Thursday was riding with caseworker Mukthar Haji to Allied College in Maryland Heights, where Maalim hoped to learn more about the school's pharmacy technician program.
In the St. Louis area, there are nearly 6,400 African refugees and immigrants, according to the U.S. Census Bureau's 2005 American Community Survey. For more than two decades, the African Mutual Assistance Association of Missouri has offered them a one-stop station of services.
Now that tradition is in jeopardy. Because of federal funding cuts and AMAAM's failure to receive grants to make up for lost government funding, the nonprofit group is fighting for its survival. Unless it can raise at least $75,000 to pay its rent, staff salaries and other expenses through the end of the year, it will possibly close by the end of the month.
The agency annually receives $150,000 in state-administered federal funds and other grants, but Gedlu Metaferia, the group's founder and executive director, learned in September that AMAAM would lose about $93,000 in federal funds. The group is now operating off of $50,000 in grants.
According to Anna Crosslin, CEO and president of the International Institute, which provides social services for new Americans, AMAAM's precarious situation is not unique. Mutual assistance associations that have long relied mainly on the federal Office of Refugee Resettlement for funding have been hard hit because of cuts.
Metaferia, 56, said: "Our work is vital because we're involved in mediation, education about civic participation, what voting means. We come as an extended family offering complimentary services. We play a great role in absorption and integration.'
Although AMAAM has a cloudy future, it has a rich past. Established in 1983 to help Ethiopian arrivals, the group expanded to help immigrants from all of Africa. Staff members are fluent in several languages, including Amharic, Arabic, Somali, Swahili and Tigrinya.
South St. Louis resident Zahra Aden, 42, who recently got help filling out an online application for unemployment benefits, is one of the estimated 15,000 African refugees and immigrants Metaferia says his group has assisted. Clients from throughout the region are a diverse group that includes college students in Edwardsville, Collinsville and Fairview Heights and a recent immigrant now living in Florissant. The services are free, and Metaferia said the group has handled translation requests from Atlanta and Washington.
"I felt very sorry. This is an immigrant historical institution, a welcoming institution established by immigrants who gave back," Metaferia said. "Why should it collapse?"
Metaferia, an Ethiopian native who came to St. Louis in 1981, considered laying off case workers, the association's backbone that provides clients help with everything from interpreting to referrals for low income housing.
He also considered eliminating staff health benefits or placing all staff, including himself, on part-time salaries. The group employs five people, including Metaferia, whose annual salary is $36,000.
Metaferia recently appealed directly to friends of AMAAM for funds. Since September, the group has raised $16,000 from philanthropic groups, businesses and individuals, he said.
"I had to let go of my pride and my embarrassment and ask for money," Metaferia said. Crosslin believes the community will rally to help AMAAM survive and even grow.
"They're one of the safety nets out there for people," Crosslin said. "They keep an element of humanity in the resettlement of these families. They can help people who are long-timers and can't access new-timer services."
Because of the time limits on services, such as job placement, the institute can't always help immigrants who have lived in St. Louis for years but still need help adjusting, Crosslin said.
That includes Somalia native Aden, who has been in the St. Louis area for seven years and recently was laid off from her assembly-line job. She turned to AMAAM in November for help in her quest for low-income housing and new employment.
Despite financial uncertainties, Metaferia said AMAAM will press on.
"I don't think our friends will abandon us."
rmanzano@post-dispatch.com | 314-340-8214