March 5, 2014
The numbers involved when examining the refugee crisis in Africa are often overwhelming. However in this article I examine one simple equation, the cost of a better life for one person. For the sake of this article I will refer to him as Zecharias (an Eritrean name meaning “God will remember”) an alias used to protect the family’s anonymity.
Zecharias is one of almost 1.8 million refugees fleeing conflict in the East and Horn of Africa. He was living in a small town in Eritrea, the son of a fairly wealthy government employee (by local standards). However, concerned for his 20 year old son’s prospects and safety his father convinced Zecharias to consider leaving their country in search of a better future. The family explained that it was not difficult to arrange an introduction to a Somalian man (known to them as Abuubakar), who they were assured could arrange his safe passage to the UK. After the initial payment of $6000 (raised by his family), Zecharias began what was to become an eight months journey.
Zecharias was first taken by car to a border town, Tessenei, in Eritrea (near to the border with Sudan). He was told to stay in a small factory unit, where soon more cars arrived and further refugees began to assemble. After many hours and a fitful sleep, the group were awoken by a lorry arriving in the compound. The Somalian leader, who himself had been a refugee arriving in Eritrea from Somalia almost a decade before, met and spoke with the Sudanese driver and his passenger. Money changed hands and almost immediately the mood changed to one of intimidation and violence as the group were loaded into the rear of the lorry. Unknown to Zecharias, this was the first in a total of four sales of him that would occur on his journey. After several hours in the lorry the group found themselves at what can be best described as a holding pen for refugees in transit. One of the Sudanese traffickers boasted that as the organiser of this camp he could earn an excess profit of $75,000 a year. However, for Zecharias time at this camp would be short and what awaited him was even worse.
Shortly after arrival he was singled out as a passenger from a wealthy family, was forced into a car boot and taken to what can only be described as a torture house (it is now believed to have been located in the northern desert of Sudan, possibly 45km from the border with Egypt). At this point the story of his ordeal is not as clear as the wounds left on his back, feet and genitals (the memories of those who endured the ordeal have been locked away tightly). The purpose of this torture was simple – to extort more money from his terrified family and it was not uncommon for the torture to occur whilst on the phone to his mother as part of the negotiations. Although it is unclear how much exactly was paid in ransom for Zecharias’ freedom or how long he was held, it is widely understood that the people organising this particularly barbaric practice in the illegal trafficking system can easily expect to earn an excess profit of $200 000 a year.
With horrendous injuries Zecharias was finally released into the custody of yet another man, this time an Egyptian. Along with several other refugees he was transported from various toilets, factories, stock rooms and restaurant kitchens, being forced to work on route through the desert towns crossing between Sudan and Egypt frequently. Often crossing the border at checkpoints in full view of the border guards and neither he nor his captor were ever challenged or questioned (this suspected complicity between Sudanese and Egyptian authorities is a recurring theme among refugees). Finally after many weeks he arrived at the border with Libya. Zecharias recalled that this was one of the most frightening elements of the whole journey (which when considering what had already been endured is really quite a statement). He recounts how several members of the group he was now traveling with told stories of Libyans murdering Black African immigrants and mutilating their bodies. How if you were caught, the Zoo in Tripoli also had separate cages for the confinement of refugees and once there you would be subjected to rape, torture and eventual murder, perpetrated by either the authorities, citizens rumored to have paid for the privilege or even fellow refugees sent mad by the horrendous conditions. The validity of these stories is really not the point. The real point is the extreme fear, stress and tension that these stories placed the group under.
However, the crossing into Libya and the journey to Tripoli went without major incident and once there (and further monies had been sent from home via western union), passage on a boat was secured for the journey to Italy. There was increasing excitement in the group with the knowledge that they would soon be entering Europe. The excitement was short lived when Zecharias (along with 280 other passengers) saw the vessel for the crossing to Italy. He described the craft as being small, blue, no roof and no rooms below the deck. Despite the massive overloading and possibly lack of sea worthiness there was thankfully no loss of life on this occasion (which is tragically all too common on this crossing).
Eventually after eight months Zecharias found himself in Calais just over 56 miles from Dover in the UK and his final intended destination. With now many health conditions including probable pneumonia, infected wounds, malnutrition, dehydration and exhaustion, the only place he could find to rest was a filthy cardboard box under a noisy road bridge on the outskirts of Calais. The area was littered with human waste, drugs paraphernalia, rotting food waste and divided into zones of occupation. An area for the Eritreans, Afghans, Iraqis, Sudanese, Somalians etc. This is only one of very many areas throughout Calais where refugees are forced to congregate, hidden from public view and hopefully the attention of the authorities.
This was to be Zecharias’ final resting place. After only a few days in this location he was found dead by a young man he had traveled with. Zecharias had been shot in the throat. Despite the number of fellow rough sleepers in the area the authorities found no witnesses (and the truth of what happened that day is probably never going to be fully known). It is possible that he was shot dead by the Mafia gang that regularly work the area, demanding 1,000 euros (or the equivalent in labour) for the final passage to the UK. Simply, he became one of the 21 reported deaths in Calais over the past four years. However as many crimes amongst the illegal immigrant community go unreported, the number of those murdered or killed in Calais or the surrounding areas could be far higher.
The final horrendous irony in this story is that Zecharias’ family were asked to pay $5500 for the French undertaker to repatriate their son’s body. Approximately $500 less than the family had paid initially for their son to begin his journey.
Behind every story, crime, incident, tragedy and statistic there is a person.
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