Reaching out to Ethiopian immigrants

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This article was published 10/04/2022 (943 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

The sight has become familiar to Kidist Demessie: a fresh layer of snow on the ground, flakes falling from the sky, traffic crawling as drivers readjust to the changing season.

This winter’s first snowfall was different. This time, Demessie armed herself with a camera. She’s dedicated to showing viewers back home what Canada is really like — and, naturally, winter is a big component.

“I can show… ‘Look: I’m stuck. I’m driving to work,’” Demessie, 38, says months later, on March 27.

She filmed her entire day during November’s first major snowfall, from brushing off her car and struggling to see while driving to changing her home’s thermostat.

The video, posted Nov. 18, has received more than 45,000 views on YouTube. Other entries surpass that: one has been watched more than 126,000 times.

Overall, Kidi Ethiopia (Demessie’s YouTube channel) has drawn more than 1.14 million views.

Demessie is seeking to prevent depression and suicide among Canada’s Ethiopian immigrant community by showing those interested in making the move what they’re getting into ahead of time. She speaks Amharic, Ethiopia’s primary language, in her segments.

“We’d watch movies, so we’d expect that kind of life (like on the screen),” Demessie says. Some see television shows like Keeping Up with the Kardashians and assemble visions of their own lives in Canada, she adds.

She was one to set high expectations.

Demessie grew up in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia’s capital city. After nannying in Egypt for four years, her now-husband sponsored her to come to Canada.

Demessie says she had dreams of becoming a nurse (and rich), buying a home for her mother and bringing family overseas. Reality sank in when she arrived in 2008.

“It was shocking,” she says. “The weather was shocking. The lack of jobs was shocking. The language was shocking.”

Ethiopians are sociable people, she says. “When we (come) here, everybody has their own apartments; you don’t even know your neighbour. This is not us. That’s why people get depressed.”

Demessie even questioned why she made the move.

“Ethiopia is a 12-month sunshine country… We never saw snow before we moved here,” she says, adding seasonal depression wasn’t on her radar when immigrating.

“Nobody (gave) us the real (picture of) how it looks like… Mentally, if you are ready, you wouldn’t be shocked.”

She slowly changed her dreams while settling in Winnipeg.

“I (took) my time. I cried. I talked to people. Then I decided… OK, this is it. This is not my fault, this is not Canada’s fault, this is nobody’s fault. This is a lack of information, so what can I do now? I can dream now — another dream.”

Demessie took a health-care aide course and now works two jobs. She’s married, has a 12-year-old daughter and supported her aunt and uncle in entering Canada.

“I accomplished my dream, but it was in a different direction,” she says.

Still, Demessie was alarmed at the number of Ethiopian-Canadians who appeared to be grappling with depression.

“As a culture, we’re not open,” she says. “We don’t talk about things; we only share our successes.”

A community member’s death by suicide a couple years ago was Demessie’s final straw — she needed to do something.

In the end, she settled on YouTube. She’s been taking the channel seriously for about a year.

“(It’s) to motivate people,” she says. “Yes, it’s cold. Yes, it’s (a) different culture… Yes, you can do it.”

Sometimes, she interviews successful Ethiopians. In other videos, she’ll remind viewers cheap labour they’re used to in Africa (such as maids) will not be available for the same price in Canada.

She discusses Canadian visas, grocery shopping, driving and what $100 can purchase. She showcases local places such as The Forks and tourist destinations such as Toronto.

“After I (started on) YouTube, people started listening to me,” Demessie says. However, the spectre of depression lingers in the community.

“The issue of mental health is something that needs a second look for us as Winnipeggers,” Reuben Garang, director of Immigration Partnership Winnipeg, says. “People are falling into cracks.”

Different worldviews must be integrated into the province’s mental health system, Garang says.

“In some cultures, (mental health is) not a concrete concept,” he says. “It’s maybe abstract or something people don’t even talk about, but communities always have ways of trying to address it.”

There are deep stigmas about discussing mental health in some immigrant networks, and depression is common — especially five to 10 years after landing in Canada.

“I think that these mental health problems kick in years later, after failing to meet the expectation of the… new life,” Garang says.

Immigrants rely on their fantasy of Canada until they’re in the country, he says. Once they arrive, they might face many day-to-day problems.

“That can affect people mentally,” Garang says. “It’s something that needs to be discussed.”

gabrielle.piche@freepress.mb.ca