The new Irish

For five 'new Irish' women, Ireland has presented plenty of fresh challenges and possibilities - but people drink too much, they tell Sinéad O'Shea

St Patrick's Day? Uzma Yousuf Tabani, from Pakistan, is not overly taken with our five-day fest, but plenty of other Irish issues have engaged her since she moved here, five years ago. At first she was most struck by the differences between the Irish and Pakistani family system. "Irish parents are much closer to their children," she says. "In Pakistan it is all about the extended family. The parents and child will normally live with the husband's mother and father and brothers and sisters and cousins, and the child will learn about their culture and religion from all these people. Here it is just the parents, although I see they are very stressed trying to see enough of their children, because they are working and driving and bringing them to childcare."

Tokie Laotan, a young Nigerian woman living in Athenry, in Co Galway, has also been surprised by the dynamic between parents and their children. "In Nigeria," she says, "parents use a lot of body language to communicate with their children, and it is disrespectful to look into the eyes of an older person, so children don't even look at their parents." Indeed, Laotan is so conscious of maintaining respectful relations that she is reluctant to give her age, in case older Nigerians think she is being too outspoken.

Laotan, who arrived in Ireland seven years ago, ran as an independent candidate in Galway at the 2005 local elections. Last month she held a beauty contest for Miss Ebony Galway, after two would-be Nigerian models complained that they were finding it difficult to find an agency to represent them. The aim of the show was to increase the visibility of black women in Ireland.

But is a beauty contest the best way to advance their cause? "It's part of African culture to promote beauty, like the samba in Brazil. It gets Africans out of the house to go and see a show. Maybe there are different ideas about it in Europe, because it is so commercialised here. I see it as a stepping stone for African women. It helps them develop more confidence."

For Doncil Lukula Yanga, who appears on the cover of this magazine today, winning the contest has been a life-changing experience. "Everybody is still talking about it. Everyone has a different reaction. It is so exciting."

Yanga, who is 18, came here as a refugee with her family from the Democratic Republic of Congo at the age of 11 and moved to Galway about a year later. Having completed her Leaving Certificate, she is training as a beautician. She doesn't think there is any great difference in aesthetics between Irish and Congolese women. "I think each person has their own style. Every person in the world. Everybody in Ireland."

By contrast, May Kok, a 37-year-old Malaysian mother of two who lives in Blanchardstown, in west Dublin, believes Irish women have a very different approach to beauty. "I think Irish women are really beautiful. They look after themselves. They know about make-up and hair. For Malaysian women the look is much simpler. The Irish look is great."

Priya Rajasekar feels the same way. "I think Irish women are incredibly beautiful. I love their sharp features. They carry themselves so well and take the time to look after themselves."

This isn't always the most common perception of Irish women. "But look around you: every woman has had her hair done here."

It's true. On closer inspection it appears that every woman in the cafe where we are meeting in the Blanchardstown Centre has been to the hairdresser recently. "You just take it for granted."

Beauty and body image are more vexed subjects for Tabani, who is in her 20s and wears a veil, in keeping with her Islamic beliefs. She has two children. Yunna, the elder, started at Castleknock Educate Together National School this year. Tabani is all too aware that her children will be growing up in a very different environment to her own. "I don't know what I would do if Yunna did not want to wear a veil. Of course, I would not make her leave the house, but I would be very disappointed in myself, because I think it would mean that I had failed as her parent."

For Tabani, religion and culture are tightly bound, and ensuring that her children receive an appropriate education is a source of concern. "This is this life," she explains, "but what really matters is the life after death, which is everlasting. If I don't teach my children, then they won't be good enough for the Day of Judgment. I have to keep an eye on it. All I hope for is that they can differentiate between right and wrong."

Maintaining certain ethical and cultural codes preoccupies many of the women we speak to. They all bemoan the place of alcohol in Irish life and fear that their children will grow up to be teenage binge drinkers.

"It's impossible to escape," says Rajasekar. "Every occasion, whether you are 30, 13 or 70, has to have alcohol. People are obsessed."

In India she was a journalist with Hindu Group Publications, and she is trying to pursue a writing career here. Now in her 30, she has just finished writing a novel, which she has called Woman in the Goddess. "It has feminist themes. In India it is important to seem like a goddess, very pure and very virtuous. There is a lot of self-denial and masochism involved."

Rajasekar doesn't believe women's rights are much more advanced in the western world, however. "The women appear more free - they can go out and booze and party - but I think they are unhappy. They are still powerless. They are depending on men. They feel used. They can be left with a child and be single mothers, and then no man will be attracted to them."

Is she sure that a man is not going to be attracted to a single mother? "That's the way it is," she says. "Maybe it's changing. But not everywhere."

An arranged marriage, according to Rajasekar, is a very good way to attain peace of mind. "I know my husband will never leave me," she says. "That is a very good feeling."

She recently founded a company, Naabi Communications, which will offer writing, editing and design services. Setting up small businesses is a noticeable trend among immigrant women. "It's because you can't work normal office hours," she says. "You don't have an extended family to look after the children, and childcare is too expensive. Your own business will let you choose your own hours."

Laotan, a single mother of three, agrees. Alongside her studies for a master's degree in international relations at the University of Ulster, she is establishing the House of Creation, a bridalwear shop in Athenry. "In my country women have their own trades, and the men go to the offices."

Running a business also has the virtue of normalising Nigerian participation in Irish life. Laotan feels there are too many negative images of Africans. "Every time I see a charity poster of a starving African child I want to scream," she says. "I see it in my children. They need more African role models. Whenever a white person comes to visit the house they always ask them for help with their homework. They never ask me. I have no idea why, exactly."

Yanga has also observed sometimes confused perceptions of immigrants and immigrant life. "Whenever I say I am from Congo, everyone says: 'Oh, I saw that film. Oh, so you grew up with lions and tigers.' And I say: 'No, that is in the villages. I grew up in the city.' "

"People think I went to school on an elephant," says Rajasekar. "What they don't know is that India has a much better health system than the one in Ireland."

Despite these misconceptions, the five women are very enthusiastic about living in Ireland, and all comment on the friendliness and openness of Irish people. "There has never been a problem," says Kok, who runs a chain of takeaways with her husband in north Dublin. "If you work hard there is no problem."

Tabani agrees. "Ireland is a place where, if you behave yourself and make the best of yourself, you will get on great. It is a really wonderful place." She is a psychiatrist, and her husband is an anaesthetist. Have these higher-paid jobs enabled them to assimilate more easily? "Yes, I would say so. Because also I have treated some asylum- seekers, and it is a very stressful life for them. Very difficult."

"But," says Rajasekar, "most immigrants to Ireland do come from middle-class backgrounds themselves, and this is something the Government and media do not make clear. There was a shortage of IT workers, and my husband was invited here. That is a very typical situation and has to be made clear. And if you sign up to conventions, then you have to accept refugees. If you don't want them, don't sign the conventions."

According to the National Economic and Social Council, 9.4 per cent of the population was born abroad, with 85 per cent of those from within the EU; 2.5 per cent are refugees or asylum-seekers. Later this week the National Consultative Committee on Racism and Interculturalism will present a series of events about immigrant issues in Ireland, as part of Intercultural and Anti-Racism Week, which begins on Monday.

Yanga believes age is relevant to the immigration experience. "I have tons of Irish friends, but it is more difficult for my parents. I think it has definitely been easier for me."

She has had a good experience of the Irish education system, she says, and the other women have also been very pleased with their children's progress. "It is much easier compared to Malaysia," says Kok, "much more relaxed." Her five-year-old son, Toby, understands five languages: English, Hakka, Cantonese, Malaysian Mandarin and Irish. He likes playing GAA with St Brigid's.

"I agree," says Tabani. "The children learn by play rather than by deadlines. It is more easy- going."

"It is very different," says Rajasekar. "In India, from the minute a child is born he is in competition with a million other babies. Here it is different. They are not as worried about results. There is more scope to be creative. Maybe that is why Irish people are so very creative."

Are they? "Yes, very." Why don't they solve more problems, then? "They do sometimes. They just don't expect that much of themselves." Rajasekar pauses, then smiles. "That's not a fault. It's a quality."

Despite such praise, neither Rajasekar, Tabani nor Kok will be celebrating St Patrick's Day. Laotan will be marching in the parade as part of Galway Traveller Movement.

For Yanga, this St Patrick's Day will be a very special one. "I will be looking at this picture of myself and thinking: 'This is the most unbelievable day of my life.' "

For more about Intercultural and Anti-Racism Week, see www.nccri.ie