‘We are one family’: Jewish friends help Muslim refugees call Australia home

For most of her 39 years, Naima lived in survival mode.

As a teenager she was married and then widowed, left to raise her young son Feisal alone in Somalia. A mother at just 15, her own parents had died years earlier.

Knowing she needed to work to provide a better future for her son, she sought out English lessons but was caught by Islamist extremists who chopped off her hand.

For years, Naima and Feisal, a Muslim mother and son, were self-reliant, navigating life alone.

Then, in April 2025, a WhatsApp call marked a change – for the first time, she felt she wouldn’t have to carry everything by herself.

On the screen, from Melbourne, was a group of six friends – Karen, Nicole, Dave, Danielle, Lyn and Jennifer – who had been matched with the family and would help them start a new life in Australia. The friends made up a Jewish friendship group called Hope for Eden.

‘I was always in survival mode. When I came to Australia I finally felt like no one was going to hurt me.’

Naima

“When they told me how they were going to help us in Australia, we had never had anything like that, it was everybody fighting for themselves,” Naima said.

“I was always in survival mode. When I came to Australia I finally felt like no one was going to hurt me.”

That call was the beginning of a relationship which has grown over the past 12 months into a deep friendship between a Muslim refugee family and a group of Jewish friends, bridging cultures and religious traditions against the backdrop of escalating conflicts and divisions.

Hope for Eden had applied to help resettle Naima and Feisal through the federal government’s Community Refugee Integration and Settlement Pilot (CRISP), which pairs refugees with volunteers who help them settle into their new communities by raising money and connecting them with services.

There had been some uncertainty at first.

“We had talked, prearrival, whether we should tell them that the group is Jewish, what if they reject the group?” Nicole Schlesinger told The Age.

“There was some nervousness from our end,” fellow group member Karen Silberberg added.

“We knew this was going to be a lot of our time, and we didn’t want to find ourselves in a position with a family who couldn’t accept us for who we were. So there was a bit of nervousness about that but from that first contact on the phone, it was just a non-issue.”

Naima and Feisal’s arrival in Melbourne – and the chance pairing with their new friends – marked the end of a nine-year journey shaped by violence and uncertainty.

The mother and son fled Somalia in 2016, after Naima was attacked by Al-Shabaab extremists. Determined to build a better life for her son, she took him to Kenya where they spent years waiting to be resettled in Australia.

A long and uncertain path eventually led them to Melbourne, and to their new friends waiting to help them.

They all describe the pairing as something that was meant to be. For Naima, it was the result of years spent fighting for a different future for her son, one built on safety and opportunity.

“What I wanted in my life was that my son had security,” she said.

“Even if I die, I will die now in peace because I know he is in good hands.”

Her 24-year-old son added: “It’s just me and Mum, she is my best friend … I came to realise no one in my life will love me more than her.”

The pair arrived at Melbourne Airport just after midnight on a cold, rain-soaked June night last year. Waiting for them was the members of Hope for Eden, who they’d only met over a video call weeks earlier.

“We were all so excited,” Schlesinger said.

“We just jumped on them,” Feisal added.

The group had found temporary accommodation for the family though their networks and connected them with a GP, organised clothing and helped them navigate transport, Centrelink and other services. They sourced dental care for Feisal and began the process of securing a prosthetic hand for Naima.

“The first couple of months was hectic,” Schlesinger said.

In those initial weeks, the group members were spending the equivalent of two full days each week supporting the pair. They also discovered how many others were willing to step in and help.

“The main fundraising we did was through our Jewish networks, our friends and family. We sent a letter out to them to let them know what we were doing and by far the majority came back saying, ‘this is fantastic, thank you for doing this’,” Silberberg said.

For Naima, some of the most significant changes to her new life were simple but profound. She had never had a shower until she landed in Melbourne.

Friendship has bloomed between the groups through shared meals and cultural celebrations. One evening, Naima pulled out her prayer mat beside the dining table before joining Hebrew prayers.

“We are Muslim, they are Jew. We celebrated Rosh Hashanah and Hanukkah with them, and they came to our house for Iftar during Ramadan,” she said. “We had an Eid feast together. It’s like one big family.”

There have also been picnics, trips to the beach and AFL games. Naima has decided to support Collingwood.

For Feisal, the connection was simple.

“We didn’t go on whether people are from a certain religion, we go on whether people are good. As long as you’re a good person, we can get along,” he said.

“Just because you worship something different, doesn’t mean I have to treat you differently. If you want to get to know someone, know them for who they are, not their religion, not the colour of their skin.”

For the members of the support group, the experience has unfolded during what they describe as a difficult period for their community.

‘This has just restored my faith in humanity. It’s been a great antidote to all the animosity that you can’t control. This is stuff you can control.’

Nicole Schlesinger

“This has just restored my faith in humanity,” Schlesinger said. “It’s been a great antidote to all the animosity that you can’t control. This is stuff you can control.”

“We don’t say Muslim or Jew – we are one family,” Naima added.

The federal government recently made CRISP, which started as a pilot scheme in 2021, a permanent feature of Australia’s humanitarian program. It is expected to help 200 refugees in 2026-27.

Assistant Minister for Multicultural Affairs Julian Hill said the program reflected “modern multicultural Australia at its very best”.

“Programs like CRISP strengthen social cohesion and belie the myths pushed by extremists who want Australians to fear each other. In truth, we live well together when we actually meet, talk, share a meal and build trust,” Hill said.

“Naima, Feisal and the Hope for Eden group are showing us what that looks like.”

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