Ohio Bike Shop Becomes a Lifeline for Mauritanian Asylum Seekers

LOCKLAND, Ohio — A bicycle shop in this small Ohio city has become an unlikely refuge for West African asylum seekers, offering not just transportation but a sense of community and practical help with the paperwork of building a new life.

The shop, called Bikes and Stuff, grew out of the efforts of Vincent Wilson, a bicycle advocate who had long been involved in the city's cycling culture. Lockland had for decades been home to a small population of West Africans who arrived in Ohio in the 1990s, fleeing political and racial oppression in Mauritania, where the government was executing and exiling Black citizens.

One evening in 2023, Wilson arrived to teach an English class at a Christian-run center next to his bike shop. Instead of the dozen or so West Africans he had known for years, he found about 160 people lined up around the building. Down the street, the lobby at a food and clothing pantry was packed, with another line stretching out the door. No one spoke English, and volunteers did not know where the men had come from.

The pantry, Valley Interfaith Community Resource Center, quickly recognized the men's conundrum. They asked if the men would like to volunteer there. They could not pay them but could offer leftover food or clothing. Many showed up every morning, unloading pallets of potatoes, working the front desk, and helping others who came for food.

Wilson could not go anywhere without seeing the men walking around. He mapped out their needs — their apartments, English class, the food pantry, the grocery store — and realized they were walking miles a day.

"So I started to see these guys walking around everywhere," Wilson said. "And I looked at where they were going. And I was like, OK, they have an apartment building here and a grocery store here, an apartment building there, an English class here. They're walking like five to 10 miles just to get around."

Well-connected in the city's bike culture, Wilson put out a request for people to donate old, unused bikes. He piled a few into the back of a pickup truck and took them to the apartment complex where the men lived. As he unloaded them to see if anyone was interested, dozens came out.

"I called like eight guys I knew through English class. I was like, 'Hey, do you guys want bicycles?' They're like, yeah, sure," Wilson recalled. "I pulled over to the apartment building and was immediately flooded with folks coming out of the apartment building, like excited that I had a pickup truck full of bikes."

He got more donated, broken bikes and some tools. He said anyone who wanted one could come — if they helped fix them up, they could have them. Many arrived, far more than he could manage.

The shop became a gathering place for the community. "Surprisingly, you just walk in the bike shop, you meet somebody who, you know, never expected to be here in America," said Khalidou Sy, an immigrant from Mauritania. "They tell you, 'oh, like, yeah, of course, what's up, man? What do you need?'"

More people showed up every week. Many who had already gotten a bike returned, to offer help and to ask for it. They had paperwork they needed to fill out: immigration papers, Social Security documents.

"So, the name of the shop comes out of that, it's called Bikes and Stuff," Wilson said. "Because on any given Friday, you know, we're working on three to four bikes, maybe more, maybe less, and we're also working on like a job application. We're working out like how do you fill out an I-9? How do you have your address changed with USCIS?"

For Amadou Sow, another Mauritanian immigrant, the shop offered a familiar comfort. "I used to ride bikes in Mauritania, so there are some bikes I like them," he said. "Some of them are heavy, some of them are pretty small."

Sow learned about the shop through friends. "I heard some of my friends telling me there are people who can help people to get a bike," he said. "When I came here to shop and then I saw someone there, they told me there is a bike opening."

But life for the community remains shadowed by fears of deportation. "I know a lot of Mauritanians who have been deported," Sy said. "I know some of them just went to ICE check-in and they got arrested and taken back home. And yes, I know lot of cases with ICE. Everybody is kind of alert, but doesn't prevent people from going to work and do their normal things daily. They're still going to work still."

Despite those anxieties, the bike shop continues to serve as a hub where immigrants can find a bicycle, help with paperwork, and a familiar face in an unfamiliar place.