Nisrin Kakhya was one of a group of Syrian refugees helped to come to the UK with the support of Finchley Progressive Synagogue, where Rebecca Birk is rabbi. Now the pair are best of friends.
February 3, 2022 12:33
Nisrin Kakhya was born in the Syrian city of Homs, a key battleground in the uprising against Bashar al-Assad’s regime. In June 2016, she, her husband Thaeer, a journalist, and their two sons came to Britain under the Vulnerable Persons Resettlement Scheme. Rebecca Birk is rabbi of Finchley Progressive Synagogue, which campaigned for Barnet council to settle 50 Syrian refugees in the borough, finding homes, school places and doctors’ surgeries for them before their arrival.
Rebecca on Nisrin:
I met Nisrin at a welcome lunch the synagogue had organised for the then newly arrived refugees. Back then, she wore a hijab and that day it was dark red with black polka dots. She looked so glamorous and urbane and had a kind of infectious energy that was instantly appealing. We’d organised some icebreaking games for the families, and Nisrin was the first to participate. From that first meeting, I felt she was someone who could be my friend.
Soon afterwards, we organised Friday coffee mornings for the refugees at the synagogue and Nisrin would come every week without fail. Our connection intensified during those meetings and before long she was inviting me for dinner at the family’s Edgware flat, on one occasion to break the fast during Ramadan. If I’m frank, I think this bothered some of the other refugees who made a point of telling me that they knew I saw her out of synagogue hours. But I continued seeing Nisrin on her own. Our friendship had become too important for me not to.
From the very beginning I saw in Nisrin a real desire to embrace the opportunities of her new life in Britain, and I loved it. We managed, for example, to persuade Middlesex University to pay the tuition fees for degrees for some of our more advanced English speakers. Nisrin jumped at this opportunity. Not everyone did, and that was interesting to me and, I think, her too.
At one point, trouble began to brew among the families and when they came to the shul for social events you could tell relations were strained. Looking back, I was naïve to think these Syrian refugees we had fought so hard to bring to Barnet might be overwhelmed with gratitude for their new lives here and not have any broiges.
In any case, I was incredibly impressed with how Nisrin behaved throughout this difficult period. It was clear from her behaviour that she disliked the tension, but that she also wanted to live with integrity. It was also clear that Nisrin and Thaeer had a more modern marriage than some of the others couples and that they generally lived more modern lives. As another congregant remarked: she’s one of us, Rebecca.
It was an interesting period for me. As a rabbi, I had to try and stay neutral and be diplomatic. But inside, I felt this is my friend and I want to support her.
Nisrin was making herself a coffee in the synagogue kitchen when I first saw her without her hijab. I wasn’t surprised. She had been talking for some time about how her faith and the way she dressed weren’t necessarily connected, how in fact clothes can sometimes control and imprison women. But it was still a big moment for me to see her with her hair uncovered in public and I let out a little gasp. I knew it was an act of courage.
Nisrin is also my friend because she’s kind. One day last September I was in my garden building a succah, but my thoughts were elsewhere — I was having a tough day. I’d already invited Nisrin round and when she appeared, a couple of hours later, with ingredients for some rice and dips she wanted to prepare in my kitchen, even though I felt low, it was still lovely to see her beautiful, smiling face. It is always is. And the ensuing meal was excellent. She’s a superb cook.
In fact, whenever I go to Nisrin’s, there’s always a delicious full-blown meal on the table, even when we’ve agreed I’m just popping in for coffee. As my congregants know, I’m also big foodie and keen cook, but despite this I’ve never actually made a meal for Nisrin. This is something I must remedy in 2022!
Nisrin and Rebecca (photo Marc Morris)
