Tag Archives: crossing the border

I wish to live in a peace and happy place

The main problem is I have three sisters and one brother. Our parents died. Because of the war we lost our parents. We couldn’t our life in peace. We would love to study bu we were stooped. I decided to go to a Europe country.
The first thing that comes in my mind when I thing about Greece it is no place that can help us or solve our problems.
From my point of view there is no border for human beings because we are human. From three month that we are crossing the borders we did not smile because we are anxious for crossing the border. Whenever we go somewhere people look at us like we are criminals or have bad manners.
If I would life with complete freedom in a world without borders … I want to live my life as a normal human being like a European. I want to study and step up to a good position. It is not my fault that I am from Afghanistan. From childhood till now we spent our lives in sadness.
If I would be an animal I would be a bird so I can fly somewhere to a very peace and happy place.

When I crossed the border …

Before going to Europe I checked the internet for information about my journey. I read that on one of the borders they had special controle machines to recognize immigrants in the dark by the warmth of their bodies. It was night, dark and I was alone in a forest. I only understood I was walking in circles after I stepped for the third time in the same puddle. I said to myself: Ok, you are not walking straight obviously. But it was impossible. I concentrated so much on walking straight and not making any turns to the left or the right. Finally, I crossed the border. I went to a bush and waited. If there were these machines, I thought, then they would see me, so I wanted to wait for the border guards to come and catch me. I waited for them because I did not want them to catch me from the back. Continue reading When I crossed the border …

Beneath a ton of newspapers to europe

There is a border in Greece, where ships are leaving to Italy.

There are about 10 or 11 traffickers, they have a lot of passengers. The traffickers have small houses or rooms where they put the “passengers”. In one room they put 10 or 15 people. There is no water and its not clean. In one week a lot of passengers come and go. They wait for the day the ship is ready to go. Then, the traffickers decide to put the passengers inside the trucks. I was one of the passengers. One night in midnight the trafficker told me and my friends and put us into the truck. It was full of magazine and newspaper.

We vanished inside the newspapers.

To get us under the newspaper they had to put a lot of them outside, put us in the hole and the newspaper above. I had to hold the newspapers above me, they were very heavy, it was difficult. My hands got very tired. We did all kind of things like this. From 3 o’clock in the morning till 6 o’clock in the afternoon, I sad crumpled together, I couldn’t move. For 14 hours I couldn’t move, without any voice. Continue reading Beneath a ton of newspapers to europe

I am always smiling, but inside I cry.

My Father worked in the force in Afghanistan. He had a better life. Two of my brothers finished University. One of them was electrician the other was psychologist. At that time, nobody could go to university because it was expensive.

We had a good life …until the war started. Every day the war got worse, it was very hart in Kabul.

Some people were locking for my father. They said, they will kill him. Because of that we decided to go to Gazni-City. Because of my father they arrested two of my uncles, they tortured them. They tock all of our homes. My father was unemployed then. Before, my father had always helped all of my uncles and our friends, now they helped him. We started a farm and bought two cows. Like that we started our life new. At that time our life took a looping. One of my brothers, from a neighbour-country, he lived in. he said that he was worried about us. He wanted us to go with him to the other country. My father didn’t accept. He called us a lot, he was very afraid for us. After one year he came again. Two times he came to ask us to come with him, finally we had to go with him.

We left in the middle of the night. We were afraid people want not understand.

Continue reading I am always smiling, but inside I cry.

Five or six time they have taken my fingerprints

Any time they stop me they took me to prison for one or two weeks
Take the fingerprints ,I don’t know why. Now I have five or six papers. I have fingerprints in Mytilini, Patra , airport….

I stayed in Patra for 8 months! I tried every day! Florina near the border and Thessalioniki I have five or six fingerprints unfortunately.

They kept us about one two weeks then let us. They told me you have to go to your country to Afghanista. In told them i spend 4 or 5 thousand Euro to escape why I should go back? I cant.

In Florina we where there to go to Serbia after Hungary but they persuade us to sign a paper that shows that they are going to deport us to Afghanistan ,they told me if you are not going to sign it we are going to keep you here for one year (in prison in Florina).
Unfortunately I dont have a copy of this paper.

The paper was in persian language. It was saying that we want them to deport us to Afghanistan,our photograph, our name.
They told us they send it to Belgium to the embassy they are going to make us a passport and deport ourselves. That was 8-9 months ago.
I am in Athens sinse a long time, a friend of mine just arrieved…

Impressions and feelings from Patra

policepatratrucksPatra is about refugees. We need to go to Patra to enter Italy. For us Patra is very difficult and very dangerous because there is a lot police. The police is a big problem. We try to hide inside the trucks to get inside the ferry to Italy. If the police find us they will beat us , also the drivers. They will ask about our papers. If you don t have they take you to prison, sometimes for more than 3 month. They don t care if we are under-age.

Jawad’s Reise

Hallo ich bin Jawad und ich wohne seit dreieinhalb Jahren in Hamburg. Ich komme aus Afghanistan und ich möchte meine Geschichte erzählen wie ich nach Hamburg gekommen bin. Es ist eine lange Geschichte. Dass ich von meinem Land weggegangen bin war nicht meine Entscheidung. Und es war auch nicht meine Entscheidung dass ich in diesem Land geboren wurde.

Als ich vier Jahre alt war musste ich mit meinen Eltern mein Dorf und Land wegen dem Krieg in Afghanistan verlassen. Wir sind in den Iran geflüchtet. Im Iran war die Situation für Flüchtlinge aus Afghanistan nicht gut. Wir bekamen ein Papier um nur kurzfristig da zu leben. Wir durften nicht zur Schule gehen, nicht arbeiten und nicht etwas in unserem Namen kaufen. Sie machten so viel Druck auf uns damit wir so schnell wie möglich wieder zurück gehen. Wenn sie uns auf der Straße sahen wurden wir immer kontrolliert und es ist auch oft passiert dass Männer wenn sie von der Arbeit kamen festgenommen und abgeschoben wurden. In Maschat an der Grenze gab es ein Konzentrationslager für Afghanische Flüchtlige. Es gab kein Essen, nur ganz viel Folter. Ich war nicht in diesem Lager aber meine Freunde haben mir davon erzählt. Sie standen den ganzen Tag in der Sonne oder im Winter in der Kälte, sie mussten Zwangsarbeit machen, manchmal wenn sie rausfanden dass man das zweite Mal im Iran war wurden sie gefoltert. Fast alle die das Lager verlassen konnten wurdern psychisch krank und dann wurden sie nach Afghanistan abgeschoben. Immernoch heute werden Leute an der Grenze von Soldaten erschossen, viele haben Angst davor und fliehen nicht mehr in den Iran.
Continue reading Jawad’s Reise