Seattle’s Michael Failla Has Became a Lifesaver for LGBTI People in the Middle East
Late at night, Seattleites received panicked calls and texts from members of the LGBTQ community in the Middle East – mostly gay men, thousands of miles away, terrified for their lives. surname.
He listens and comforts them as much as he can from the other side of the world. His phone is always on.
On other days, callers want help to escape their country and seek refuge elsewhere. With a network of friends and human rights organizations on different continents, Failla, set to work. He worked to get these people to safety, with his own money, while they applied for asylum in a Western country. Britain also helps them get through the long, arduous UN refugee immigration process, which can take years.
The retired chiropractor’s compassion for refugees dates back to his time as a young man in Detroit, where his closest friends were refugees from Hungary. After moving to Seattle, he began helping refugees settle there.
But for over a decade, helping LGBTQ people in the Middle East – where they face persecution and even death – has become his life mission.
“I realized that I have dedicated my life to helping refugees and that my people are among the most persecuted refugees on the planet,” Failla said. “Nobody knows about it. Most of my gay friends, who I’ve talked to, don’t know how serious the persecution is in many parts of the world.”
To date, Failla, 69, has helped arrange the safe exit of about 80 LGBTQ people to the US, Canada, UK and other countries.
“Gay people are discriminated against in every society and in every country, by their own countrymen and their families,” he said. “That’s what makes gay people such a unique and vulnerable group of refugees.”
A gay man in Turkey moved into 27 different apartments to avoid attackers
Failla keeps in touch with most of the people he helps and considers them his “children”. Some of them have paid by opening doors for others in a similar predicament.
CNN spoke to half a dozen of his “kids” in Seattle, the UK, and Turkey. Some do not want to be identified for fear of endangering the lives of their loved ones in the Middle East. But they describe a selfless man who answers his phone at unreliable hours and is always eager to help.
They say that Failla doesn’t like to draw attention to himself, so most of his help is done under the watchful eye.
“I have Michael saved on my phone as my guardian angel,” says Justin Agha, a gay Tunisian man he helped move to Seattle from Turkey.
“He is the main reason I am alive and have reached this point in my life,” Agha said. “If it wasn’t for Michael, if he hadn’t come in, I would have died and been buried in a cemetery in Turkey. Or I would still be in Turkey, struggling.”
Failla and Agha were referred through an LGBTQ organization. At the time, Agha was hiding with her boyfriend in the town of Amasya, northern Turkey. Agha said that to stay safe after his attackers beat him up for being gay, they moved into 27 different apartments over four years in the country.
It was 2018, and his asylum application was in limbo. Without even meeting him, Failla intervened and contacted US immigration officials and the United Nations’ International Organization for Migration on his behalf.
Failla is committed to finding the couple a place to live, a job, and help with their PTSD. Their asylum application was approved shortly thereafter.
When Agha and her boyfriend landed in Seattle in November 2019, Failla and his partner of over 21 years, Gary Hamer, met them at the airport.
“And there were 300 gay men in the male choir who invited them on that stage and applauded them to come to the United States,” Failla said. “Can you imagine what happens to these two children who have had to hide their whole lives, who have been beaten and sent to prison because they are gay, to somewhere where 300 people are gay? Is masculinity welcoming them?” shed tears. “
Failla also helps LGBTQ refugees find work and gives them life advice
Often Failla doesn’t meet the people he’s helping until their profile is approved and they show up at the airport.
When they arrive, he helps them build their resumes, motivates them to attend English lessons and learns their interests so he can help them find jobs. He offers advice when they need a career change and finds advice for those struggling with past trauma.
“It’s important for me to coach them and teach them how to get jobs,” he said. I don’t want them to live against the system. I want them to take pride in working hard and doing it for themselves. And when that happens, it really pays off. ”
The first gay couple Failla helped, Btoo Allami and Nayyef Hrebid, live in Seattle where they work in kitchen design and maintenance.
“Michael is our angel,” Hrebid said. “I learned from him how to be kind and help people. The world needs more angels like Michael.”
Allami and Hrebid both worked with the US military during the Iraq war. Allami is a sergeant in the Iraqi army while Hrebid is a US interpreter. The US applied for asylum to Hrebid, allowing him to come to the US but leaving Allami alone in Iraq trying to hide from militants who were targeting homosexuals.
Some of Allami’s relatives accused him of bringing shame to his family and wanted him killed, he said. Terrified, Allami stuffed a pair of pants and a few T-shirts in his backpack and fled to Lebanon.
Hrebid meets Failla at a party in Seattle and tells him their story. Allami then applied for asylum with the United Nations refugee agency, a process he said took longer than usual due to translation errors. Failla flew to Beirut and attended several interviews with him.
Eventually, Allami received a visa to go to Canada, where he and Hrebid were married. In March 2015, Allami moved to Seattle to stay with her new husband.
Their goal is to pay it forward.
He’s been receiving more and more requests for help in recent months
Since Afghanistan fell to the Taliban three months ago, Failla has received more pleas for help than ever before.
“It’s been a challenge. I have a lot of people contacting me every day. There are stories of people being killed. People are pretty desperate and there’s a lot of fear,” he said.
Failla has a network of volunteers who help refugees with everything from legal services to accommodation. He wants everyone to know he’s not doing this alone.
“In any case, there were a lot of people who helped every step of the way,” he said.
Failla intends to do this job for as long as possible.
“No one else is doing it and we need more people to help, get people through the complexities of catching them[into]hiding, getting them through all the bureaucracy,” he said. to the place of resettlement. “It really needs someone who will be on their side and support them.”
But he will not stop personally to help LGBTQ refugees.
“I love doing it,” he said. “Nothing makes me happier than when I finally see one of these happy faces arriving at the airport.”