SEATTLE — Dagmawi Haile-Leul left the King County Jail on foot, carrying his belongings in a plastic bag, trying to keep his legal paperwork from getting soaked in the October rain.
He was released later in the day than expected and by the time he arrived at Africatown Community Land Trust’s Benu Community Home — the only shelter in Seattle focused on serving Black men — he was too late to check in.
So, he stayed up all night, walking around Seattle’s downtown, hoping to avoid trouble that could send him back to jail. He hid out in the corner of a Starbucks in the early morning until he made the trek up First Hill, back to the Central District shelter.
When Haile-Leul arrived, worn out and wet, he said he could tell from the welcoming music playing and the staff member who smiled at him when he crossed through the front door that this was a place that wouldn’t judge him.
“They made me feel secure, really,” Haile-Leul said. “They wanted to know authentically what I was experiencing in a way that made me feel like I no longer needed to have my defenses up.”
Now, as a staff member at Benu, Haile-Leul is providing that same support to others. He knows firsthand what a difference having people in his corner made when he was trying to exit homelessness.
In its first two years in operation, Benu sheltered 256 men, of whom 71 percent identified as Black.
Benu is unique not only in focusing on a population that is disproportionately impacted by homelessness, but also in that it is run by an organization with few tentacles in the homelessness services system.
“We’re just getting started,” said Ashé Ricketts, the program assistant at Benu.
Nearly three years ago, Africatown Community Land Trust launched its first and only shelter, and residents and staff say that through swift learning and evolution they have been able to meaningfully serve their guests — some of whom grew up in Seattle’s Central District neighborhood. About 37 percent, of Benu guests have transitioned into stable housing from the shelter and 123 have been connected to a job, according to a two-year impact report released earlier this year. Its 125 beds remain full or near capacity most of the time, according to Clenna Brooks-Pope, Benu’s program manager.
“We kind of push for all of them to have the same success rate and obtain that permanent housing or transitional housing or whatever fits their situation best,” Brooks-Pope said.
There’s a bulletin board on one floor of the shelter featuring cutout photographs of grinning men who were recently housed.
Africatown Community Land Trust is known for its work to acquire and develop affordable housing and community spaces in the historically Black Central District in an effort to fight gentrification and honor Seattle’s Black community legacy.
Africatown acquired in 2021 the former Keiro Northwest Rehabilitation & Care Center, which used to serve Seattle’s Japanese American community as a nursing home, after community advocates fought to prevent it from turning into market-rate housing and retail space.
The building covers an entire block along East Yesler Way, a few blocks away from Yesler Terrace Park.
The shelter received funding through the federal American Rescue Plan Act, which is expected to run out next month. But Mayor Bruce Harrell’s 2025-26 budget proposal includes $2.2 million for the shelter to allow it to continue operating at the same scale. Seattle’s City Council approved the budget request last week.
Africatown leaders plan to eventually convert the building into affordable housing, but for now guests stay in large private and shared rooms that come with their own private space and a bathroom, reminiscent more of hospital rooms than a traditional shelter.
There is a pingpong table, a pool table and a barber shop in the building, equipped with hair-washing sinks, where men with barber experience offer their skills to others.
“Recognizing the urgent need for a safe haven, Africatown envisioned a place where men could find respite from the struggles of daily life,” said Muammar Hermanstyne, Africatown’s real estate and development consultant.
Shelter staff have taken advantage of the 76,000-square-foot building to offer services and enrichment opportunities in light-filled spaces with expansive views of Seattle’s stadiums and Puget Sound.
According to the shelter’s impact report, 78 percent of staff identified as Black, which is no accident.
Black men are disproportionately represented in King County’s homeless population. According to this year’s point-in-time count conducted by the King County Regional Homelessness Authority, people identifying as Black, African American or African represented 19 percent of the county’s 16,385 homeless population. But they make up 7 percent of the county’s total population.
Nate Jeffcoat grew up in Seattle’s Central District, and said he became homeless as a young adult while struggling with substance-use disorder.
“I know exactly what it’s like to be on the other side of the fence,” Jeffcoat said. He’s sober now, and on his recovery journey, he’s focused on paying it forward.
Benu is a low-barrier shelter, which means guests aren’t required to be sober to live there, but it doesn’t allow drug or alcohol use on the property. The shelter hosts a Narcotics Anonymous meeting three times a day.
“(There are) so many guys that come through here that are broken mentally, broken spiritually,” Jeffcoat said. “And then once we gain your trust, we hold on to it.”
James Bess gave up using drugs and alcohol in 1964 at the age of 19, but the tall and thin grandfather shows up to the morning and evening Narcotics Anonymous meeting every day to help create space for his fellow guests to open up.
“Many of them are shy about admitting it,” Bess said. “They in denial, and they sort of are in need of somebody that has had the experience that is willing to talk about it freely.
“So I do that to help improve the situation for them.”
Most of Benu’s shelter guests are working or looking for jobs, said program manager Brooks-Pope, but for their down time, the shelter offers a variety of classes and activities.
It’s hosted a poetry class in the past and held talent shows. Men enjoy gathering in the large dining hall to watch football on Sundays. It hosts a weekly support group called “Guy Talk.”
Bess, the shelter’s oldest guest, hosts a book club, where guests read the same book and meet to discuss it. They started with James Allen’s 1903 “As a Man Thinketh.”
“We talk about what we get out of it that we can use to help transform our circumstances,” Bess said.
His circumstances are something he never thought would happen to him.
After serving 23 years in a California prison, Bess returned to Seattle during the pandemic to live with his daughter when his parole ended. His roots run deep here. He used to work at the all-white Seattle Tennis Club and raised a family in West Seattle.
But in February, Bess needed to quickly exit his living situation.
So at 79-years-old, Bess became homeless for the first time. He’s lived at the shelter for nearly a year now, sharing a room.
Bess attends several other classes, one of which taught him “the basis of all relationships is a good relationship with yourself.”
Bess is on a housing waiting list, he said. While he’s waiting for something to open up, he’s sticking to his daily routine at Benu, offering what he can to his fellow shelter guests and staff.
“I’m grateful for them extending their hand out to me,” Bess said, “to help me at the time that they did.”