Photos by Alan Gilsenan.

The right to cook seems like a basic aspect of human survival, yet for those seeking asylum in Ireland, this is not the case. The topic of refugees, and the manner in which they are treated, has become increasingly prevalent in light of Europe’s struggle to cope with the effects of the Syrian war. Although Ireland has been slightly more removed from the steady influx of refugees, last year still saw a total of 3,276 people applying for asylum.

The Direct Provision scheme has been in place since the 10th of April, 2000, ensuring that “basic needs of food and shelter for asylum seekers” are met by the RIA (Reception and Integration Agency). In the 34 centres, located in 16 counties, adults are given an allowance of €19.10 per adult and of €9.60 per child per week. Only a small number of these locations permit self-catering, meaning that some attempt to go without daily essentials so that they can put their money towards better food for themselves or their family.

In September 2014, asylum seekers took to the streets of Athlone to protest the poor food provisions in one of the largest centres in the country. In May of the same year, a report on the matter was written on behalf of Nasc by Keelin Barry entitled “What’s Food Got to Do With It?” Although the report, which describes the Direct Provisions scheme as “a stain on Ireland’s human rights record”, was published almost two years ago, it would appear that little change has been made to the scheme since.

Although in theory the RIA’s provision of food and accommodation is a positive thing, the issue that arises as a result of this is that asylum seekers are prohibited from cooking and even storing food for themselves and their children. While food may only scratch the surface of things that need to change in the country’s approach to asylum seekers, as a basic human requirement it is a good place to start, as it can be an added stress in an already bewildering environment.

Many claim that what they are given is inedible, unhealthy, unsuitable for children, and fails to cater to various religious practices, as well as being a general culture shock. Nonetheless, the issue that some find in the Direct Provision scheme is not so much the food in question as it is the active removal of the asylum seeker’s authority in an everyday task that the average Irish citizen takes for granted. The problem is that asylum seekers are denied their freedom to choose, their right to cook.

Om Nom Nom held their first pilot event in collaboration with those seeking asylum in Dublin on January 22nd. It took place in the atmospheric location of NCAD’s Luncheonette basement café, where asylum seekers and volunteers alike were encouraged to cross the threshold of the kitchen, under the attentive eye of Brazilian chef Wagner Dos Santos, before taking their places at the dinner table.

The description that prefaced the event claimed that their aim was “To bridge the gap between ‘them’ as asylum seekers and ‘us’ as Irish Citizens” through a united effort of preparing, cooking and eating food.

While hunger strikes have for years been used as an entryway into political dialogue, on this day the act of eating proved to be a stand in itself. Although the organisers state that “our event is self-consciously unpolitical in its manifestation”, they acknowledge that “the act of cooking with people seeking asylum is an inherently political act”.

At the helm of the project are two NCAD students, Leonie and Maia. Leonie’s interest in working with migration issues was sparked in her childhood when she attended the Dun Laoghaire Refugee project with her mum. Equally, Maia is also “interested in all things multicultural”, her interest stemming “from a strong sense of social justice as well as the mixed-ness of her own ethnic background”. They explained that both of their families have “moved and mixed cross-continentally” and hope to use their experiences to cultivate cross-cultural dialogue and acceptance within their current Dublin setting.

When asked what impact they feel such an event can truly have, they responded: “We would hope that it has an empowering impact, as well as encouraging integration and cross-cultural understanding; the hope is to primarily provide a safe and unprejudiced space for everyone”. Those looking to get involved can rest assured that this was no standalone occasion. Based on the success of their initial event, Om Nom Nom aims to expand and flourish and is busy planning its next event, fully intending to engage in such activities “for the long haul”.

The experience was, overall, a positive one, blended with a hint of scepticism on the part of the attendees that soon disappeared as the communal cooking effort commenced. Many in attendance had been in the country for a number of years and were now working or studying, glad to have put the asylum seeker status behind them. Admittedly, the right to cook was not considered a great loss by all those who attended the event. One Somali woman, who entered the country as a refugee over a decade ago, stated that cooking had been her main responsibility before she moved to Ireland and she had promised herself to avoid it at all costs when forging a new life for herself. In keeping with her word, she exercised her right not to cook, with a promise to help with the washing up instead.

For events such as Om Nom Nom, cooking and eating is simply a tool used to highlight the fundamental rights that are withheld from asylum seekers. Events such as these provide food for thought. They are an opportunity for volunteers to meet our country’s asylum seekers, not in collective terms, but as individual people with separate stories, interests and inspiring plans for the future that they hope to build in Ireland.