For years, Halima found herself trapped in an endless cycle of waiting. Day after day, it was the same: waiting, hoping, doing her best to hold on. Then, finally, came the good news—she was getting a house. Her own place, her own door, a chance to leave the asylum center behind and find peace at last. Or so she thought.
When Halima opened the door to her new home, she was hit with a stark reality. There were no floors, no lights, no curtains—nothing but bare, cold walls. It felt more like the home of a ghost than a person. The fresh start she had imagined now seemed like a bad joke. She almost wanted to laugh, but it was simply too sad.
She thought she was ready to build a life for herself. But with what? She had no money, no friends or family nearby, and suddenly, even something as basic as a dish towel felt like a luxury. Everything was missing—even the bare essentials.
Halima turned to her local municipality for help, only to be met with a shrug. No welcome package, no help, not even advice. In other towns, some creative or compassionate approaches exist, but here she was left empty-handed. The message seemed clear: figure it out for yourself.
Refusing to give up, Halima sought help wherever she could. She reached out in Facebook groups, called charities, and asked around. Bit by bit, small pieces began to come together—a second-hand table here, a helpful tip there, the occasional kind message from a stranger offering something extra. It was a struggle, but slowly things started to look up.
Every item felt like a small victory—a chair, a curtain rod, a lampshade. While many other newcomers could focus on work or integration courses, Halima was still fighting just to keep her home warm and make it feel a little more like home. And she knows she isn’t alone in this struggle.
This isn’t just about Halima. It’s a systemic issue. Providing someone with just four empty walls is like giving them a boat with no paddles—good luck getting anywhere. Surely, the Netherlands can do better.
Still, Halima persists. She collects, organizes, borrows. Curtains from a neighbor, a bench from an online marketplace, a lamp from a giveaway group. Her apartment still isn’t a dream home, but it’s hers.
And yet, the injustice remains. Why should someone who’s already lost everything have to fight for something as simple as a curtain? Why isn’t there a basic, national policy ensuring everyone gets a fair start? Why should luck decide if you end up in a supportive community or not?
If we truly believe in equal opportunity, we need to provide more than just four walls. Real support is what gives people a fighting chance at a new beginning.
What do you think? Should every Dutch municipality guarantee a fair start for people like Halima? Join the conversation on our Facebook page—your ideas and support could help spark real change.