Laetitia Mizero Hellerud overcomingadversity

cross-cultural journey to CONTENTMENT

“I will fall down, but eventually, I rise up again. I am committed to facing what is yet to come.” ive-year old Laetitia Mizero Hellerud watched in horror as her older brother was struck by a car crossing a street in a strange city. Her mother fainted at the sight of a bleeding Jean-Claude pinned beneath the vehicle. Life could not have been worse for Hellerud.

Not many days earlier, Hellerud, with her mother, brother and younger sister Nadine, crossed a river at night into Rwanda. They were fleeing genocide in Burundi, a landlocked country the size of Maryland, once ruled by French-speaking Belgians. It was 1973, and educated Hutus were being targeted by the Tutsi tribe in a political conflict far more complex than ethnic fighting.

Her father, Pierre-Claver, a Hutu, was in France studying on an art scholarship, and her mother Euphrasie, a Tutsi, desperately sought passports at the Burundian Embassy in Rwanda.

Years later, Hellerud sees how that accident proved to be the unlikely catalyst for their escape. The car driver happened to be a pregnant woman whose husband, a government official, helped resolve the passport issue. Miraculously, her brother suffered no broken bones and her family reunited in France.

Today, Hellerud possesses poise and an inner peace that belies the unpredictable, frightful world she endured as a four-time refugee. She exudes the nobility of a person who has suffered with infinite grace, emerging from the crucible stronger and better. Her life is a testament to her name, Laetitia, which means sublime joy.

She lived as a refugee in France nearly five years, and then in Rwanda, before her parents returned to Burundi. Her father, an artist-and-author-turned-politician and fervent education advocate, inspired her love for learning. She de- lighted in his personal library of more than 500 books, ranging from the classics and religion to politics and philosophy, with a sprinkling of comic books. Hellerud earned a degree in English literature and linguistics from the University of Burundi, at a time when only 3 percent of all Burundians held college degrees.

By the early 1990s, her parents had rebuilt their lives, adding three more children to the family, Aline, Claudette and Olivier. And her mother had a business that was flourishing. In 1993, her father was one of three candidates to run for president in the country’s first democratic election. Hellerud’s family was initially hesitant at this potential disruption to the peaceful rhythm of their slightly-above-middle-class lives. They wholeheartedly supported his vision of a unified Burundi, though he faced certain defeat.

In fact, their family was proof that Tutsi and Hutu could live together and be supported by both families.

Once again trouble brewed in Burundi. Tensions flared after the newly elected Hutu president was later assassinated by Tutsi soldiers. With school closings, her father feared intellectual death for his children as much as physical death. Hellerud, now married, felt life is cyclical and did not want her 18-month-old son, Yann, to witness the next wave of impending violence. This time of her own volition, Hellerud fled to Burkina Faso, West Africa, taking her four younger siblings with her at her parents’ request. Because it was easier for women and children to leave Burundi, her husband planned to join them as soon as it was feasible.

Responsible For Six

As an urban refugee, Hellerud, now 27, had the privilege of living and working in an urban center and was spared life in a refugee camp. She rejoined Catholic Relief Services, the overseas relief agency, where in Burundi she had served refugees and other disadvantaged groups.

The sobering reality that she alone protected her son, three younger sisters and one younger brother in an environment where she says males lurked and preyed on the vulnerable forced her to look for a permanent home. After four failed attempts to secure visas to go to Europe, she applied for refugee status and refugee resettlement in the United States. The odds appeared stacked against her, with only 2 percent or less of all refugees approved for resettlement worldwide.

Her fortitude caught the attention of decision-makers, and all six members were selected to become the first Burundian family in Fargo, North Dakota. Hellerud loves to say, “Fargo chose us.” She had left blank the question on the application that asked where you would like to be if your application were to be approved. Hence, Fargo.

“Fargo did a beautiful job of restoring our dignity,” says Hellerud, who arrived in September 1998.