Wednesday 26,Febr-2025 {HMC} “Overall, the goal is to help them get out of danger and get back on their feet,” she said.
For example, some of them need to find an apartment, and Isuroon covers the security deposit and the first month’s rent, while others need a lawyer to represent them in court and help with legal paperwork. Still others need food, clothing and medical attention.
Some clients face a language barrier, so Isuroon connects them with language services as well.
The majority of Isuroon’s clients are Somali women and their families, but they also serve Afghan women.
Many Afghan women are new to the country and afraid to speak up about abuse, Fartun said. “We have had a number of domestic violence cases in the Afghan community, but those cases were solved internally,” she said.
‘He was powerful and aggressive’
While many Somali women are still ashamed to speak about domestic violence, Fatoun Ali, founder and executive director of the Somali Youth and Family Development Center (SOMFAM) was willing to share her story.
She married her ex-husband in San Diego, Calif., when she was 20 and he was 35. “He was powerful and aggressive to the point it felt like he was suffocating me,” Fatoun said.
She said her ex-husband did not want to get a proper job or provide adequate support for the family, resulting in constant problems in their marriage.
She said whenever she asked him to pay the rent, food and other necessities around the house, he would instantly get upset and aggressively come at her.
This included beating, yelling and threatening to kill her. She left the house and moved in with a friend temporarily while caring for a baby and pregnant with a second child, she said.
“I felt like our marriage was built on lies,” she said, referring to her ex-husband having three children with someone else without informing her before their marriage. He was also unemployed for years even though he claimed to have a job and owed thousands in child support money to the state.
She said he sometimes worked for temp agencies that would place him in temporary jobs that the state was unaware of to avoid having his wages garnished.
While living in her friend’s house, she got a job and rented an apartment, but once he learned that she had her own place, he moved in with her, but the abuse continued.
“He would do very weird things to make me scared, so I don’t leave or ask him anything,” She said. For example, he would take a pair of scissors and cut a handful of her hair, show it to her, and say “‘This time, it is your hair, but next time it would be your throat,’” she said.
As the abuse continued, she decided to get a divorce, sparking an argument between the two, where he beat her severely, leaving her unconscious. Relatives and community elders took over the case, convincing him to give her a divorce.
She finally moved from San Diego to Minneapolis, rebuilding her life from scratch with two young children.
Upon coming to Minneapolis, she got a job, rented an apartment, and enrolled in school while caring for her children. She earned a bachelor’s degree in business and founded SOMFAM along with a real estate business, Hayat Properties.
Fatoun remarried, had two more children, and is currently a mother of four.
‘Feelings of shame’
Sumeya, a domestic violence and legal advocate for SPIP, said she handles cases where victims are shot, stabbed or severely beaten.
Referrals come from the police, hospital or through direct calls to the agency. She is often accompanied by a law enforcement officer when she responds to calls, and asked to be identified by her first name alone for this story due to the sensitivity of her work.
“Among domestic violence victims, I’ve noticed that the younger Somali generation is hesitant to open up to a Somali advocate or Somali police officer because of feelings of shame,” she said. “This is due to the fear that their information may be disclosed to the community and portray them negatively.”
When working with Somali victims, it is important to acknowledge their concern about keeping their information confidential and maintaining their trust while also prioritizing safety over shame, she said.
“We want the victims, especially the newer immigrants, to understand that their information is safe with us, and nobody is going to make them do anything they don’t want to do,” said Cline, the SPIP executive director.
Najma said Isuroon often sees cases where the husband is physically abusing the wife and children, forcing them to leave the home and seek safety.
Fartun said when women leave their abusers, they become both the breadwinners of the family and the sole caregivers of a large number of children. That can lead children to show up at school without proper hygiene or enough to eat, triggering a child welfare check.
“We have a legal team that represents these women in court when both the husband and child protective services threaten to take the kids,” Fartun said.
When Somali women go to family shelters, they experience complete isolation because they don’t speak English, and as a result, they are unable to adapt to the environment, she said.
That has inspired Isuroon’s initiative to build an 87-unit shelter that can accommodate large families, she said.
Isuroon is still in the early stages of planning, but hopes to have the $30 million shelter completed within two years, with funding from the state and private donations, Fartun said.
The nonprofit is also creating a team of professionals that includes a legal team, social workers, health care personnel, and cultural brokers who assist families in resolving conflicts and provide sessions for young couples to teach them the importance of maintaining a successful marriage, she said.
“Our team will be ready to meet victims wherever they are,” Fartun said.
A Twin Cities nonprofit serving Somali and Afghan women is expanding its services for victims of domestic and sexual abuse.
Isuroon launched a hotline for victims last summer and is developing plans for a $30 million, 87-unit family shelter it hopes to open in the next two years.
The nonprofit has served hundreds of domestic violence victims since it was founded 15 years ago, said founder and CEO Fartun Weli.
But she said calls have escalated in the last four years — in part because women are more willing to speak out.
“In the Somali community, we are facing a cultural shift,” she said. In the past, divorce and separation were rare. Women stayed in their marriages because they had no outside source of income and because divorced women were shamed.
“Domestic abuse has always existed in our community, but the driving force in recent years is that more and more young women are speaking up,” Fartun said. She said the pandemic also highlighted family issues with more people trapped at home.
Isuroon is not the only local provider receiving more calls from immigrant women.
Shelley Cline, executive director of the St. Paul and Ramsey County Domestic Abuse Intervention Project, said SPIP is also handling more calls from new immigrants. In 2023, nearly one in five calls were from new immigrants or refugees.
SPIP has advocates who speak Spanish, Hmong, Karen, Somali and French, among other languages. That helps clients navigate a stressful situation. But more victims are also finding the courage to reach out, Cline said.
“Something that we noticed is that once victims understand their rights and options, they make good decisions for themselves and their families,” she said.
A generational change
In the early years of Isuroon, calls and clients’ needs were handled as they came in, but the domestic violence cases became more frequent, resulting in the launch of its domestic abuse hotline last June, Fartun said.
Isuroon also provides refugee assistance, doula care, youth mentoring, housing, and other essential services.
The creation of the hotline was funded by the National Organization of Sisters of Color Ending Sexual Assault, she said.
Fartun said during the 1990s and 2000s, many Somali refugees were brought to the United States and most of those families were women and children, while the men were subjected to extensive security screening due to the emerging militia groups and terrorist organizations in the country.
This led to many families being separated for a long time, resulting in children growing up without their fathers. When the fathers joined their families years later, the children who grew up in the United States, along with women who had been accustomed to an independent life, found it difficult to adapt to the father’s paternalistic mindset, she said.
“This is a situation where husbands are not financially supportive of the women and children. And women are putting the children in daycares and want to go to school, earn income, and get a better living, but apparently, husbands don’t want that, so there is a conflict between them,” Fartun said.
She said many of these women are looking for ways to get away from financial, emotional and physical abuse with their children, and they are in frantic mode, looking for public housing and other social assistance.
“Many of them do not know how to navigate the system, so we help them with whatever assistance they need,” Fartun said.
Najma Elmi, Isuroon’s crisis resource coordinator, said she handles three to five calls a week from women seeking help.
“Overall, the goal is to help them get out of danger and get back on their feet,” she said.
For example, some of them need to find an apartment, and Isuroon covers the security deposit and the first month’s rent, while others need a lawyer to represent them in court and help with legal paperwork. Still others need food, clothing and medical attention.
Some clients face a language barrier, so Isuroon connects them with language services as well.
The majority of Isuroon’s clients are Somali women and their families, but they also serve Afghan women.
Many Afghan women are new to the country and afraid to speak up about abuse, Fartun said. “We have had a number of domestic violence cases in the Afghan community, but those cases were solved internally,” she said.
‘He was powerful and aggressive’
While many Somali women are still ashamed to speak about domestic violence, Fatoun Ali, founder and executive director of the Somali Youth and Family Development Center (SOMFAM) was willing to share her story.
She married her ex-husband in San Diego, Calif., when she was 20 and he was 35. “He was powerful and aggressive to the point it felt like he was suffocating me,” Fatoun said.
She said her ex-husband did not want to get a proper job or provide adequate support for the family, resulting in constant problems in their marriage.
She said whenever she asked him to pay the rent, food and other necessities around the house, he would instantly get upset and aggressively come at her.
This included beating, yelling and threatening to kill her. She left the house and moved in with a friend temporarily while caring for a baby and pregnant with a second child, she said.
“I felt like our marriage was built on lies,” she said, referring to her ex-husband having three children with someone else without informing her before their marriage. He was also unemployed for years even though he claimed to have a job and owed thousands in child support money to the state.
She said he sometimes worked for temp agencies that would place him in temporary jobs that the state was unaware of to avoid having his wages garnished.
While living in her friend’s house, she got a job and rented an apartment, but once he learned that she had her own place, he moved in with her, but the abuse continued.
“He would do very weird things to make me scared, so I don’t leave or ask him anything,” She said. For example, he would take a pair of scissors and cut a handful of her hair, show it to her, and say “‘This time, it is your hair, but next time it would be your throat,’” she said.
As the abuse continued, she decided to get a divorce, sparking an argument between the two, where he beat her severely, leaving her unconscious. Relatives and community elders took over the case, convincing him to give her a divorce.
She finally moved from San Diego to Minneapolis, rebuilding her life from scratch with two young children.
Upon coming to Minneapolis, she got a job, rented an apartment, and enrolled in school while caring for her children. She earned a bachelor’s degree in business and founded SOMFAM along with a real estate business, Hayat Properties.
Fatoun remarried, had two more children, and is currently a mother of four.
‘Feelings of shame’
Sumeya, a domestic violence and legal advocate for SPIP, said she handles cases where victims are shot, stabbed or severely beaten.
Referrals come from the police, hospital or through direct calls to the agency. She is often accompanied by a law enforcement officer when she responds to calls, and asked to be identified by her first name alone for this story due to the sensitivity of her work.
“Among domestic violence victims, I’ve noticed that the younger Somali generation is hesitant to open up to a Somali advocate or Somali police officer because of feelings of shame,” she said. “This is due to the fear that their information may be disclosed to the community and portray them negatively.”
When working with Somali victims, it is important to acknowledge their concern about keeping their information confidential and maintaining their trust while also prioritizing safety over shame, she said.
“We want the victims, especially the newer immigrants, to understand that their information is safe with us, and nobody is going to make them do anything they don’t want to do,” said Cline, the SPIP executive director.
Najma said Isuroon often sees cases where the husband is physically abusing the wife and children, forcing them to leave the home and seek safety.
Fartun said when women leave their abusers, they become both the breadwinners of the family and the sole caregivers of a large number of children. That can lead children to show up at school without proper hygiene or enough to eat, triggering a child welfare check.
“We have a legal team that represents these women in court when both the husband and child protective services threaten to take the kids,” Fartun said.
When Somali women go to family shelters, they experience complete isolation because they don’t speak English, and as a result, they are unable to adapt to the environment, she said.
That has inspired Isuroon’s initiative to build an 87-unit shelter that can accommodate large families, she said.
Isuroon is still in the early stages of planning, but hopes to have the $30 million shelter completed within two years, with funding from the state and private donations, Fartun said.
The nonprofit is also creating a team of professionals that includes a legal team, social workers, health care personnel, and cultural brokers who assist families in resolving conflicts and provide sessions for young couples to teach them the importance of maintaining a successful marriage, she said.
“Our team will be ready to meet victims wherever they are,” Fartun said.
