Minäkin olen suomalainen – Reflections on Refugeehood, Belonging, and a Journey to London 

On the margins of World Refugee Week 2026, I received an invitation to perform at an event organised by my publisher, Palewell Press, at Kensington Central Library in London on 18 June 2026. The event, titled Courage, Creativity and Friendship, was organised by Palewell Press. The trip was funded by the Finnish Institute in the UK and Ireland, which covered my transportation and accommodation.

When a Book Unfolds, Distances Unfurl

In 2021, I received a one-year grant from Kone Foundation to write a book titled Mosul: Story of Hope, edited by Andy Willoughby. The book’s idea sprang from a brief conversation with my grandmother, who once narrated over the phone the story of Mosul’s liberation from the grip of ISIS in 2017. 

In 2014, Iraq’s second-largest city was conquered by the so-called Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS), following the suspicious withdrawal of the Iraqi armed forces, leaving the entire population to face an ominous fate.

The book sheds light on personal narratives, drawing on collective memory and conjuring different stories through multiple accounts, including those of my family members and friends. It delves into the alleyways of neighbourhoods, believing that this can offer insight into the environments from which Iraqis come. I sought to showcase cultural differences and challenges in approaching universal concepts such as love, courage, sacrifice, and altruism, framing them within a humanitarian perspective. 

The Last Vessel: Salvaging Subtle Details from the Folds of Oblivion

As a child, my earliest memories of my city were shaped by the Second Gulf War, when my family took shelter in what I describe in the book as a “war cottage”, drawing on the concept of the Finnish summer cottage. 

The book sutures the story of hope by swinging between the grief of loss and the joy of embracing life. This is perhaps most visible in the heart of the book, which consists of a series of interviews conducted with brave residents of Mosul, most of whom are women who saved their families during the battles for liberation between 2016 and 2017. They later became citizen heroes who led the movement for change in what was once the capital of the Islamic State. 

For me, this book has become a hidden gate in the darkest corner, leading me into a larger realm and wider audiences. This visit marked the second time I had been invited to present prose and poetry drawn from its pages. Before stepping onto the stage, my publisher, Camilla Reeve, would introduce me as an Iraqi-Finnish writer and then mention Mosul, Iraq, making the book feel like a junction between Iraq, Finland, and the UK. 

This Trip Shattered the Stereotype of the UK 

Before travelling to England, I felt anxious after seeing reports suggesting that tensions between different communities in the UK were boiling over. 

However, once I stepped out of the Tube station, I saw none of that. On the contrary, I saw groups of people from different backgrounds spending time together. I saw an older English man trying to show me the way to my hotel after noticing me sitting on a bench, without me even asking for help. I went with a new friend from Eritrea to an English pub and ordered Indian curry served by a Mexican waiter, while the bartenders formed a cascade of colours stretching from East to West. I desperately tried to find just one table devoid of diversity, but I could not.

Mistä sä olet kotoisin? When a Question Becomes a Trap 

In the past, I never found it difficult to narrate a shorter version of my story of refugeehood and forced migration. However, nowadays, I feel that once I mention “Iraq” and “refugeehood”, I will be associated with negative propaganda and political narratives, linked to terms such as welfare, social assistance, invaders, and beneficiaries.

How is it possible that such an acute shift in roles has occurred over the course of a single decade since 2015? The people who were once portrayed as victims have become the ones being blamed. Being a refugee represents a humanitarian response to forced migration originating from imminent threats that place people’s lives at risk. 

Can I Be Finnish in Finland?

I wonder: why in the UK, I feel more comfortable introducing myself as an Iraqi Finn, while in Finland I have begun to hesitate before saying, ”Minäkin olen suomalainen”, ”I am Finnish too”, due to the current political rhetoric, which makes me feel that such a statement will immediately be questioned, placing me in the cage of stereotype. 

Will the meaning of being Finnish one day be redefined in a more informed, inclusive, and just way? 

In the end, the book Mosul: Story of Hope could be a good opportunity to answer a fundamental question by tracing the story back to its roots: why do people become refugees in the first place? I hope that this will contribute to a broader understanding.