Faces of resilience: Refugees rebuilding lives in Greece

“Only on Tuesdays do I have free time”

Sakineh, originally from Afghanistan, has lived in Greece for the past five years. A mother of several children—now grown and living across Europe—she has rebuilt her life in Athens with strength, hope, and determination despite facing displacement, separation from her family, and discrimination.  

Trained first as a tailor, Sakineh discovered a passion for cooking and has since dreamed of opening her own multicultural restaurant. She has completed culinary and firefighting courses in Greece, and despite systemic barriers—such as being denied job opportunities possibly due to her background or hijab—she remains active and ambitious.

“I don’t like to sit at home doing nothing. I like adventure. I like to discover more. Even though I’m 54, I don’t feel 54. I feel 15. I like dancing, training, exercising—being alive. I’m not the type to sit and cry. I try to distract myself and keep going.

I started cooking after learning to sew. Now I want to open my own restaurant—with food from all the places I’ve lived and loved. I know how to make desserts not just from my country, but from many others. I’m curious and always learning. Cooking is a way for me to give joy to others.

What I couldn’t have, I tried to give to my children. That’s what makes me proud. Each one of my children has a job now. That’s my success. Even though I’m far from them, I keep learning so I can offer them more. I’ve taken firefighting courses, cooking classes, and I’m learning English. I never want to stop growing. I feel young when I learn. I want to be active, to live fully.

I try not to let the bad things break me. I stay positive. That’s how I move forward.” 

“I’ve been refusing labels. Refugee is not my identity”

Born in Bangladesh, in a region affected by conflict, Ovileya grew up without the security of a stable home or the freedom to live as a child should. Her early life was shaped by displacement and isolation, experiences that denied her the basic rights of belonging and safety. After enduring the harsh conditions of Moria refugee camp in Greece—where she lived in a tent for nine months—she began rebuilding her life with a clear vision: to create a home defined not by nationality, but by dignity, freedom, and self-determination.

“As a refugee here in Greece, I’ve faced struggles that have challenged me in ways I never thought I’d be able to overcome. There were moments when I felt powerless—when simply accessing basic services, feeling at home, or having a future seemed distant and uncertain. But through all of these struggles, I’ve grown more resilient and more determined.

I’m especially passionate about improving transgender health care, because I know firsthand how much it matters. Access to proper care isn’t a privilege—it’s a necessity—and I want to be a voice for those in my community who may not yet be able to speak up. My struggles have ignited a deep purpose within me: to fight for dignity, fairness, and compassion for all, starting from the community I’m a part of.

My life is a journey toward a better future—not just for myself, but for everyone whose path is a little more difficult because of who they are or where they come from. I am committed to making a better living for myself and to making sure that future generations have more opportunities, more understanding, and more hope.

I’ve been refusing labels. Refugee is not my identity.” 

“Once we bring women to the table, we can start to solve problems.”

Karimeh was born in Afghanistan and raised in Iran, where early marriage and the denial of education shaped her early years. She found the courage to start over in a new country—not only to rebuild her own life, but to shape a better future for her two sons and for countless other women like her.

Today, Karimeh is a university student, a loving mother, and the founder of Hidden Goddess, a women’s rights organization rooted in healing, empowerment, and sisterhood. Education—once a distant dream—is now her foundation. Through Hidden Goddess, Karimeh creates safe spaces for women who have never been allowed to dream. 

"I am a mother, a student, a worker, and a community leader. For much of my life, I had no voice—no right to make decisions, no space to be myself. But now, I am finally me. I am proud to say that I walk this path on my own, even when no one walks beside me.

I teach my children to cook, to clean, and to care for themselves. If their future partner wants to study or work, it shouldn’t fall only on her to do everything.

Once we bring women to the table, we can start to solve problems. We can protect each other. We can heal. We are all worthy of peace, dignity, and a life where our voices are heard. Some [women] don’t even know what makes them happy. Even sitting and drinking tea on the balcony—they’ve never given themselves that chance.”

“I am proud of the effort I am making"

Fatimah arrived in Greece five years ago after a difficult and dangerous journey. Landing on the shores of Lesbos with no belongings, no phone, and no certainty, she took her first steps into a new life by asking a stranger to call her husband. Their emotional reunion days later marked the beginning of her rebuilding process.

“I am proud of the effort I am making. For my job, for my home, for my child who goes to school, for learning Greek. I like trying. I don't like staying at home doing nothing, just sitting around. In Afghanistan, I always worked, making carpets by hand. One carpet a month. It's very difficult.

Now I work in a restaurant. I'm in charge of the salads. I chop the lettuce, tomatoes, onions, vegetables, and I do all the prep work. After work, I go to the nursery to pick up my son, Elias, then I do the housework, and then I go to Greek lessons. Only on Tuesdays do I have free time. That's the day I dedicate to myself.”