I didn’t know that in Europe people get divided in the ones with passports and the ones without. I didn’t know that I would be treated as ‘a refugee’, a person without papers, without rights. I thought we escaped from emergencies, but here our arrival is considered an emergency for the locals. I thought our situation in the camp is an emergency, but in Europe the meaning of emergency for people like ‘us’ is to be dead.
Under the conditions we live exposed to heat in summer and rainfalls in winter, in the middle of garbage, dirt and sewage water, unsafe in permanent stress and fear facing the violence of the European Asylum System in this small world of 15,000 people – we are all emergency cases.
In fact in Moria, most arrived already with injuries in their souls and sometimes on their bodies. But here everyone gets ill, also the healthy, and our situation let our sicknesses turn to emergencies very fast.
Consider the story behind life in Moria hotspot: Having spent days, weeks or months walking up and down hills, over rocks and in between trees while living in a forest. Standing in queues for hours. Lost between what we think of as protection and what they create to hinder us reaching it.
Just before I went on my trip to Mytilene I saw in Germany the news about refugees in Greece. On TV it was reported on how aggressive and angry the refugees were in Greece (Mytilene). After I saw these news in Germany about the refugees I started to think and worry a bit. Would it all go alright? Would it be right to travel to Mytilene and help the people who require support? Would I endanger myself or not? These questions formed in my mind. I travelled nonetheless as I had already booked my ticket and had promised the group that I would come and participate.
When our ship dropped the anchor in the harbour of Mytilene, I saw from above used rubber vessels and many people (men, women, and children) who did not look well and who had to wait in the heat for their registration. When we went to our camping site (Charamida), somewhere far away from the harbour and the city, we saw families and men, who were lying on the street as they could not walk anymore and were tired. We stopped and gave them water and information. We then quickly went to our camp and unloaded our car. When the cars were empty we drove back to bring the refugees to the harbour to register.
Ich bin 17 Jahre alt. Ich lebe seit 10 Monaten in Deutschland. Ich komme aus Afghanistan. Sieben Jahre habe ich meine Familie nicht gesehen. Ich vermisse meine Familie sehr. Diese Geschichte erzählt von Griechenland. In Griechenland fühlen wir uns gefangen. Wir können nicht weiter, wir können nicht bleiben und wir können nicht zurück. Wir möchten ein gutes, sicheres Leben. In Griechenland gibt es keinen Sprachkurs und kein Zuhause. Wir können nicht arbeiten. Zum arbeiten brauchen wir ein Papier. Wir wissen nicht wie wir das Papier bekommen.
Weil wir nicht arbeiten können und kein Zuhause haben, müssen wir auf der Straße leben. In der Nacht kommen die Polizei und die Griechen und machen uns Probleme.
Es gibt viele Flüchtlinge die lange in Griechenland bleiben müssen. Das Leben dort ist sehr schwer. Das Leben dort ist kein Leben. Wir brauchen Hilfe, aber es gibt keine. Der Eine wohnt in Patras im „Jungle“ und kommt nicht weiter. Der andere schafft es auf das Boot nach Italien, aber wer weiß, was mit ihm passiert? Vielleicht wird er sterben, vielleicht wird er wieder nach Griechenland zurück geschickt. Continue reading Das ist kein Leben!→
Hi, I am Eternal I bornd in Iran.
My father was Mechanic, I was student and I did Mechanic as a part time job.
Up to the day life for refugees getting worse and worse in Iran.
The refugees can’t continue learning in colleges and that’s why I moved to Germany.
I had good life, I didn’t have any limit during my life, I could reach any thing that I want.
I mean I didn’t have any problem about money.
With all the beautiful wishes that I had about Germany I arrived to this country.
I’ve always told myself: I can have a greatest life there. I will have good job, good university and a good life.
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.
I was sitting in a park in Athen , the police came to me, ask me about my paper, I gave it to them. The police took me paper, although there was no problem with my paper they scrunched it up. He told me to open my mouth. I opened my mouth and then he insert the paper to my mouth, they pressed into my mouth. and then he hit me with a stick and with his foot. He threatened me , when he see me again he will handcuff me and take me to the prison.