Rafedin’s story did not begin as a humanitarian project in the conventional sense of the word. It stems from an almost random but at the same time inevitable insight that took shape ten years ago in Bethlehem.

At the time, Rosaria Minnino was volunteering with children when a conversation changed everything. Don Mario Cornioli, newly transferred to Jordan, was talking about young Iraqi refugee girls stuck in a kind of limbo, waiting for a relocation that could take months or even years. What worried him was not only the material hardship, but above all the psychological burden of suspended lives.

From that conversation came a simple idea: if the waiting time could not be accelerated, perhaps it could at least be turned into something meaningful. Sewing classes were the starting point. Within a week, what seemed like a vague idea became a reality: sewing machines, a small group of girls, and a space within a Salesian institute already linked to the tradition of craftsmanship and support for women.

Today Rafedin is based at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Amman, where the project officially took shape in 2016.

Many of the women involved fled the violence that engulfed Iraq and Syria during the years of the so-called ISIS “caliphate.” Jordan became a temporary refuge, but also a place of uncertainty: many could not work, could not return to their country, and were still waiting for their asylum claims to be approved.

Ten years later, Rafedin has trained more than 160 young women, most in their early twenties. Many of them have since moved to Canada, the United States or Australia, bringing with them not only memories but also concrete skills and professional experience.

Yet describing Rafedin simply as a vocational training project is not enough to tell the story of what it has become over time.

More than a humanitarian initiative, Rafedin functions as a true atelier: a space where craftsmanship, design, and precision matter as much as solidarity. From the beginning, Rosaria rejected the idea that Rafedin could resemble a charitable workshop. The goal has never been to produce “refugee crafts,” but to create quality garments and accessories. Each piece is indeed unique, often impossible to reproduce exactly.

“The thing I always specify to everyone is that this is not a charity market. This is a real clothing line,” says Rosaria. “Let’s say we play stylist and we created our own little fashion week.”

This philosophy runs through the entire project. The women of Rafedin are not considered in need of assistance, but artisans whose work possesses both economic and creative value. Products are sold between Amman and Italy to financially support the project, which is now self-financing.

Among them is Rita Hamid Batros, 22, originally from Mosul. She has been living in Jordan for five years and working in Rafedin for three, specializing in bag making.

Prior to joining the atelier, Rita already had experience in working with leather. Fabric, however, presented a completely different challenge.

“The piece I am most proud of is the fabric bags,” she says. “My experience was mostly with leather. Leather holds stable measurements, while fabric can shift between hands, even by half an inch. Learning how to work with fabric and create bags was a great accomplishment.”

Over time, Rafedin has also become a rare social space — a place where women can build friendships, gain confidence, and gradually open up to others.

“They are all very young and very shy. When they come to us, this place becomes a way for them to open up to others,” Rosaria explains.

What has been created between Rosaria and the group now resembles an extended family: a bond made of mutual affection and care. And perhaps the most extraordinary aspect of Rafedin is precisely the culture that the women themselves have built within the atelier.

“When one of them finally receives the long-awaited outplacement call, the reaction is never one of jealousy, but of collective joy,” Rosaria says. “Even those who have been waiting for years celebrate the departure of the others.”

After ten years, Rafedin’s impact cannot be measured only by the number of women trained or products sold. Its most profound achievement is to have created a space where waiting is transformed into creation and where women too often defined only by their refugee status can instead be recognized for their talent and work.

In Rafedin, the label “refugee” does not disappear, but it stops being the only identity that matters.