From refugee to leader in law: "I fled with nothing but the clothes on my back"

I never intended to pursue a legal career – in my mind nobody with any self-respect would become a lawyer. My low opinion of law was influenced by my experience growing up in Eritrea at a time where the security and judicial systems were associated with repression.

The last thing that young people wanted to be was lawyers. But, after arriving in the UK, a teacher asked me what I wanted to study and I didn’t know what to say. I only said law because my brother had once suggested it. 

I was born to a middle-class family in the early 1960s, during the war of independence. Although the conflict with Ethiopia had started in 1961, it only began to affect us when my home city was captured by the Eritrean Liberation Front in the late 1970s.

Throughout school I’d been a top-grade student, so when I joined the liberation movement I became a teacher. This was the late 1970s, I was still a teenager myself with no teaching qualifications. My students were a few years younger than me. 

The camaraderie, companionship and goal kept us motivated – we were going to change the world. There was a lot of improvising – we didn’t have schoolbooks. We had no physical comforts. We made beds and shelter from whatever we could find. Life was tough but it was also the most creative period of my life.

Ethiopian planes would hover overhead and drop bombs if they saw signs of life. During the day we hid under trees and moved at night to avoid being spotted. We had to move camps regularly to remain undetected. This was particularly difficult with around 1,000 children to look after.

By the early 1980s, the situation was hopeless – I fled Eritrea with nothing but the clothes on my back. I crossed the border to Sudan, where I was destitute and sleeping on the streets. With no residents’ permit, I had to hide from security officials. I wanted to reach Khartoum, the capital of Sudan, but had no means of getting there.

I’d experienced so much cruelty and destruction, but I also saw the best of humanity. One day I was in Kassala, Sudan and I bumped into someone who was in the field school with me. She’d found a job as a domestic worker. After hearing my plight, she went to see her master and gave me all her money from the wages she had earned so I could make my way to Khartoum.

It wasn’t very much money in today’s terms, but it meant everything to me. It still moves me to remember it.

I arrived in Khartoum and contacted my brother who was studying at Manchester University. He helped me apply for refugee status in the UK.

Aged 18, I arrived in London in January 1982 – I couldn’t believe how freezing it was. I had been warned, but I was confident I’d be ok in a sweater. On my first day my brother took me sightseeing. Our tour started and ended at Piccadilly Circus as it was so cold. 

I moved into a hostel in south London and enrolled at a college for people who spoke English as a second language. I’d been top of my class in English back home, but I was better at writing than speaking. I really impressed my teachers and they were very supportive.

Without telling me, my teacher collated university brochures and application forms. He helped me apply and I got an interview at the City of London Polytechnic. It was a huge shock to be accepted.

My first year was tough, but it got easier throughout my degree. The hardest thing was memorising case names – the English names were so unfamiliar to me.

After I graduated, I saw a job advertisement that stated “we are an equal opportunities employer” – in the 1980s that was revolutionary. The role was for an articled clerk at Brighton Borough Council. I applied and got the job!

I was mistaken for a defendant on my first appearance at the Magistrate’s Court as an advocate for Brighton Borough Council. The usher asked my name but couldn’t find me on his list. I gave him my name emphasising the fact I was “representing” the Council several times. It transpired the usher was looking at the prosecution list with the names of defendants.

People do see me and assume certain things, and this instance was a case of unconscious bias. There were no hostile intentions and the usher was very apologetic when he realised his error.

Initially, people weren’t sure what to make of me – I’m black, have an accent and an unusual name. I had some very enlightened colleagues and managers who saw beyond that and helped me thrive. I qualified as a solicitor in 1989 – two years before the war back home ended.

I worked hard to support diversity in the local council. I was a champion of the BME forum which consulted on all policies and proposals for fairness and inclusivity.

I also led the ‘diversity in leadership’ project which provides advice and mentoring for employees. It was very successful, with 13 participants in the first cohort achieving promotions.

There was a point when white councillors dominated the council. I supported the council to recruit standing invitees from different backgrounds to join committees and debates. They couldn’t vote, but their lived experiences enriched the conversations and decision-making.

Much of what I achieved would have been impossible without managers who were allies. It’s important to stay optimistic and avoid viewing situations as “us versus them” – ultimately most people will be on your side.

In my final role as corporate director, I was responsible for over 500 people and a budget of some £40 million. In that role I oversaw legal services, finance, HR and other support services. The job pushed me out of my comfort zone and forced me to develop as a leader. 

Even though I worked at the same organisation for my whole career, it was very varied. Every few years I had opportunities to progress and develop. When Brighton and Hove boroughs merged, I was involved in drafting the new constitution.

In law, you can look up things you don’t know. But when you’re in leadership position, as opposed to a technical lawyer, there’s no textbook for the job. 90% of the role was dealing with people and politics so it was more instinctive. I had to rely on my own judgement.

Law teaches us to analyse, persuade, think logically and be disciplined – all fantastic skills for leaders. When you look back 50-years, many chief executives (or town clerks as they were called) came from legal backgrounds.

Nowadays we tend to see fewer people from legal background in local authority executive positions. I think lawyers make excellent leaders and I would like to see more lawyers expand their horizons beyond the law and embrace wider leadership roles.

As well as enjoying work successes, I’m also a proud father. My son is the centre of my universe. When I see the world through his eyes, it’s a revelation. He brings a new perspective and asks questions that make me go, “Wow! Why didn’t I think of that?” 

After 37 very busy years, where I managed my time in five- and ten-minute blocks, retirement is a bit scary. It’s strange to wake up to a blank diary with nothing to do.

It’s been difficult to be cut off from work, particularly when I see projects in the news. I miss it and have many fond memories. Work is more than a means of earning money, it’s social network, intellectual stimulation, a source of emotional wellbeing and a reason to get up. When you don't have that, there can be little incentive to do anything.

I’m conscious of the need to keep physically and mentally active. Interestingly, I find it requires more active initiative-taking and organisation than when you have a job that provides structure. 

Some of the children I taught in Eritrea attended my retirement party. They’ve grown up to be managers in the NHS and even university professors. Back in Eritrea we had nothing to offer them materially, but we gave them self-confidence and curiosity. It brings me to tears to see what they’ve achieved and contributed.

Despite my initial reservations about becoming a lawyer, I've retired with a strong belief in law, the legal profession and local government. Coming from my background, joining a career with a clear path was beneficial.

Yes, I’ve experienced trauma and dislocation, like most Eritreans, but I believe I’m very lucky. I lost two of my brothers in the war of independence. The human loss and economic damage was devastating to Eritrea. When you’ve lost so much, there's always a bit of you that remains affected. But I’ve met many kind people in Eritrea, Sudan and Britain – so I’m forever grateful.

I would like to end by saying thank you. Thank you to my family (including the brothers I lost to the war of independence), my Eritrean friends, colleagues in Brighton & Hove City Council, and Britain. They were all there for me in my time of need.

Pictured above: Abraham in his younger years. Abraham with his son and wife at his retirement celebrations. Abraham at work in 2006. Abraham receiving a certificate from Dawn Whittaker for service to East Sussex Fire Authority. Abraham with his son and the Mayor of Brighton and Hove Mohammed Asaduzzaman. Abraham with Councillor Bella Sankey.