• ITALY : UPTICK IN CHAIN-REMOVALS

    While the exact number of persons arriving via the Slovenian-Italian border is unknown, there has been a sharp rise since April (http://www.regioni.it/dalleregioni/2020/11/09/friuli-venezia-giulia-immigrazione-fedriga-ripensare-politiche-di-controllo-) of people entering Italy from the Balkan route. Not only in Trieste, but also around the province of #Udine, arrivals have increased compared to last year. In Udine, around 100 people (https://www.ansa.it/friuliveneziagiulia/notizie/2020/11/30/migranti-oltre-cento-persone-rintracciate-nelludinese_9fdae48d-8174-4ea1-b221-8) were identified in one day. This has been met with a huge rise in chain pushbacks, initiated by Italian authorities via readmissions to Slovenia. From January to October 2020, 1321 people (https://www.rainews.it/tgr/fvg/articoli/2020/11/fvg-massimiliano-fedriga-migranti-arrivi-emergenza-98da1880-455e-4c59-9dc9-6) have been returned via the informal readmissions agreement, representing a fivefold increase when compared with the statistics from 2019.

    In this context, civil society groups highlight that “the returns are being carried out so quickly there is no way Italian authorities are implementing a full legal process at the border to determine if someone is in need of international protection.” The pushbacks to Slovenia appear to be indiscriminate. According to Gianfranco Schiavone (https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news-feature/2020/11/17/europe-italy-bosnia-slovenia-migration-pushbacks-expulsion), from ASGI (Associazione per gli studi giuridici sullʼim-migrazione), “[they] have involved everybody, regardless of nationality,” he said. “They pushed back Afghans, Syrians, people from Iraq, people in clear need of protection.” As stated by Anna Brambilla, lawyer at ASGI, the Italian Ministry of the Interior (https://altreconomia.it/richiedenti-asilo-respinti-al-confine-tra-italia-e-slovenia-la-storia-d):
    “confirmed that people who have expressed a desire to apply for international protection are readmitted to Slovenia and that readmissions are carried out without delivering any provision relating to the readmission itself.”

    Crucially, the well publicised nature of chain removals from Slovenia, and onwards through Croatia, mean the authorities are aware of the violent sequence they are enter-ing people into, and thus complicit within this #violence.

    But instead of dealing with this deficit in adherence to international asylum law, in recent months Italian authorities have only sought to adapt border controls to apprehend more people. Border checks are now focusing on trucks, cars and smaller border crossings (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fu4es3xXVc8&feature=youtu.be

    ), rather than focusing solely on the military patrols of the forested area. This fits into a strategy of heightened control, pioneered by the Governor of the Friuli Venezia Giulia Region Massimiliano Fedriga who hopes to deploy more detection equipment at the border. The aim is to choke off any onward transit beyond the first 10km of Italian territory, and therefore apply the fast tracked process of readmission to the maximum number of new arrivals.

    https://www.borderviolence.eu/wp-content/uploads/BVMN-November-Report.pdf

    #asile #migrations #réfugiés #refoulements #push-backs #Italie #Slovénie #droit_d'asile #frontières #contrôles_frontaliers #10_km #refoulements_en_chaîne

    –—

    Ajouté à la métaliste sur la création de #zones_frontalières (au lieu de lignes de frontière) en vue de refoulements :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/795053

    • Schiavone: «#Lamorgese ammetta che l’Italia sta facendo respingimenti illegali»

      «Le riammissioni informali dei richiedenti asilo non hanno alcuna base giuridica», spiega Gianfranco Schiavone, del direttivo dell’Asgi, Associazione per gli Studi Giuridici sull’immigrazione. Nel 2020 sono state riammesse in Slovenia 1301 persone. «Sostenere, come ha fatto la ministra dell’interno Lamorgese durante l’interrogazione del deputato di Leu, Erasmo Palazzotto, che la Slovenia e soprattutto la Croazia siano “Paesi sicuri” nonostante le prove schiaccianti della violenza esercitata dalla polizia croata sulle persone in transito, ha dell’incredibile, un’affermazione indecorosa»

      Quelle che il governo italiano chiama “riammissioni” in realtà altro non sono che respingimenti illegali dei profughi che arrivano dalla Rotta Balcanica a Trieste e Gorizia. Pakistani, iracheni, afghani, e talvolta anche siriani che avrebbero diritto di chiedere asilo nel nostro Paese ma neanche mettono piede sul suolo italiano che già sono in marcia per fare forzatamente la Rotta Balcanica al contrario: all’Italia alla Slovenia, dalla Slovenia alla Croazia, dalla Croazia alla Bosnia.

      Lo scorso 13 gennaio il deputato di Leu, Erasmo Palazzotto durante la sua interrogazione ha ricordato alla ministra dell’Interno Lamorgese quanto sia disumano quello che sta succedendo in Bosnia, alle porte dell’Europa e di come testimoni il fallimento dell’Unione nella gestione dei flussi migratori sottolinenando che "Il nostro Paese deve sospendere le riammissioni informali verso la Slovenia e porre la questione in sede di Consiglio Europeo per gestire in maniera umana questo fenomeno. Va messa la parola fine a questa barbarie”. Ma Lamorgese sembra ancora continuare a non curarsi di quello che avviene dentro i nostri confini. Nel 2020 sono state respinte illegalmente in Slovenia 1301 persone.

      «Quello che succede al confine italiano sono veri e propri respingimenti illegali», spiega Gianfranco Schiavone, del direttivo di Asgi, Associazione per gli Studi Giuridici sull’Immigrazione. «Anche nel 2018 si erano registrati casi di respingimenti illegittimi ma in numero contenuto. Allora la risposta fu principalmente quella di negare i fatti. In ogni caso, oggi, il fenomeno dei respingimenti illegali è aumentato enormemente in termini di quantità ma soprattutto nella loro rivendicazione ideologica. Mentre in passato la giustificazione poggiava sulla tesi che non si trattasse di richiedenti asilo oggi si tende a giustificare (pur usando volutamente un linguaggio ambiguo) che si possono respingere anche i richiedenti perchè la domanda di asilo si può fare in Slovenia».

      Stando a quanto ha affermato la ministra le riammissioni sono possibili in virtù dell’accordo bilaterale firmato dai due Paesi, Italia e Slovenia, nel 1996. Si tratta di “riammissioni” effettuate non in ragione del ripristino dei controlli alle frontiere interne, mai formalmente avvenuto, ma in applicazione dell’Accordo bilaterale fra il Governo della Repubblica italiana e il Governo della Repubblica di Slovenia sulla riammissione delle persone alla frontiera, firmato a Roma il 3 settembre 1996, che contiene previsioni finalizzate a favorire la riammissione sul territorio dei due Stati sia di cittadini di uno dei due Stati contraenti sia cittadini di Stati terzi.

      «In primis», spiega Schiavone, «occorre rilevare come tale accordo risulti illegittimo per contrarietà al sistema costituzionale interno italiano e per violazione di normative interne. È infatti dubbia la legittimità nell’ordinamento italiano dell’Accordo bilaterale fra il Governo della Repubblica italiana e il Governo della Repubblica di Slovenia e di ogni altro analogo tipo di accordi intergovernativi per due ordini di ragioni: nonostante abbiano infatti una chiara natura politica, essi non sono stati ratificati con legge di autorizzazione alla ratifica ai sensi dell’art. 80 Cost.;in quanto accordi intergovernativi stipulati in forma semplificata, in ogni caso essi non possono prevedere modifiche alle leggi vigenti in Italia (altro caso in cui l’art. 80 Cost. prevede la preventiva legge di autorizzazione alla ratifica) e dunque essi neppure possono derogare alle norme di fonte primaria dell’ordinamento giuridico italiano. In ogni caso, anche volendo prescindere da ogni ulteriore valutazione sui profili di illegittimità dell’Accordo di riammissione è pacifico che ne è esclusa appunto l’applicazione ai rifugiati riconosciuti ai sensi della Convenzione di Ginevra (all’epoca la nozione di protezione sussidiaria ancora non esisteva) come chiaramente enunciato all’articolo 2 del medesimo Accordo. Del tutto priva di pregio sotto il profilo dell’analisi giuridica sarebbe l’obiezione in base alla quale l’accordo fa riferimento ai rifugiati e non ai richiedenti asilo giacché come è noto, il riconoscimento dello status di rifugiato (e di protezione sussidiaria) è un procedimento di riconoscimento di un diritto soggettivo perfetto i cui presupposti che lo straniero chiede appunto di accertare. Non v’è pertanto alcuna possibilità di distinguere in modo arbitrario tra richiedenti protezione e rifugiati riconosciuti dovendosi comunque garantire in ogni caso l’accesso alla procedura di asilo allo straniero che appunto chiede il riconoscimento dello status di rifugiato. A chiudere del tutto l’argomento sotto il profilo giuridico, è il noto Regolamento Dublino III che prevede che ogni domanda di asilo sia registrata alla frontiera o all’interno dello Stato nel quale il migrante si trova. Una successiva complessa procedura stabilita se il Paese competente ad esaminare la domanda è eventualmente diverso da quello nel quale il migrante ha chiesto asilo e in ogni caso il Regolamento esclude tassativamente che si possano effettuare riammissioni o respingimenti di alcun genere nel paese UE confinante solo perchè il richiedente proviene da lì. Anzi, il Regolamento è nato in primo luogo per evitare rimpalli di frontiera tra uno stato e l’altro. Violare, come sta avvenendo, questa fondamentale procedura, significa scardinare il Regolamento e in ultima analisi, il sistema europeo di asilo. È come se fossimo tornati indietro di trent’anni, a prima del 1990».

      Inoltre secondo la ministra "la Slovenia aderisce alla Convenzione di Ginevra e che la stessa Slovenia, come la Croazia sono considerati Paesi sicuri sul piano del rispetto dei diritti umani e delle convenzioni internazionali. Pertanto le riammissioni avvengono verso uno stato europeo, la Slovenia, dove vigono normative internazionali analoghe a quelle del nostro paese”.

      «Lamorgese», continua Schiavone, «ha fatto una figura veramente imbarazzante che ricade sul nostro Paese. Bisogna avere il coraggio di ammettere che abbiamo fatto una cosa illegale riammettendo i richiedenti asilo in Slovenia e da là, attraverso una collaudata catena, in Crozia e infine in Bosnia. E anche se nell’audizione dice tre parole, solo un piccolo inciso, sul fatto che non possono essere riamessi i migranti che hanno fatto richiesta d’asilo, nei fatti la sostanza non cambia. Infine sostenere che la Slovenia e soprattutto la Croazia siano “Paesi sicuri” nonostante le prove schiaccianti della violenza esercitata dalla polizia croata sulle persone in transito ha dell’incredibile. Un ministro non può permettersi di dire che quelli sono Paesi sicuri, perchè per i migranti della Rotta Balcanica non lo sono. E alla domanda “come finirà la questione?” La ministra non è stata in grado di formulare nessuna risposta chiara sul fatto che verrà posta fine alla pratica delle riammissioni dei richiedenti. Ed è forse questa la cosa più grave».

      http://www.vita.it/it/article/2021/01/18/schiavone-lamorgese-ammetta-che-litalia-sta-facendo-respingimenti-ille/158020

  • Europe’s chain of migrant expulsion, from Italy to Bosnia

    ‘They pushed back Afghans, Syrians, people from Iraq, people in clear need of protection.’

    Italian authorities are drawing criticism from legal advocacy groups for returning asylum seekers and migrants across Italy’s northeastern land border to Slovenia, triggering a series of often violent pushbacks through the Balkans and out of the European Union.

    Several asylum seekers told The New Humanitarian that after being returned to Slovenia they were pushed back to Croatia, another EU member state. In turn, the Croatian authorities – accused of using systematic violence and abuse against migrants – expelled them to Bosnia, which is outside the EU.

    “Generally, in two days, the person disappears from Italy and appears again in Bosnia,” Gianfranco Schiavone, a legal expert at the Association for Juridical Studies on Immigration, or ASGI, an Italian NGO that provides legal aid to migrants and asylum seekers, told TNH.

    Advocacy groups say the returns are illegal because they block people from requesting asylum in Italy, and ultimately end with them being expelled from the EU without due process.

    The Balkans serve as a key part of the migration route from Turkey and Greece to Western and Northern Europe, and the UN’s migration agency, IOM, estimates that nearly 22,000* asylum seekers and migrants are currently stranded in the region.

    The allegations of illegal returns from Italy come amidst increased scrutiny by watchdog groups, and growing concern on the part of the European Commission, the EU’s executive body, over reports of widespread and frequently violent pushbacks at EU borders, especially in Greece and Croatia.

    Pushbacks violate EU law and are prohibited by the European Convention on Human Rights.

    In July, Italy’s Interior Ministry told the Italian Parliament in a letter that the returns are taking place under a longstanding agreement between Italy and Slovenia and are within the bounds of the law because Slovenia is also an EU member state. Italian Interior Minister Luciana Lamorgese later backtracked on the position, saying that only irregular migrants were being returned – not asylum seekers.

    At the end of October, the governor of Friuli Venezia-Giulia, the Italian region bordering Slovenia, said 1,321 people had been returned to Slovenia this year. Last year, just 250 people were returned between January and September, according to the interior ministry.

    Civil society groups say the returns are being carried out so quickly there is no way Italian authorities are implementing a full legal process at the border to determine if someone is in need of international protection.

    “Under European law, [police are required to accept] asylum applications made on the border,” Schiavone said.

    Such returns are not new, but began to take place in larger numbers following an uptick in arrivals in Friuli Venezia-Giulia from Slovenia as the first round of coronavirus lockdowns ended in the spring.

    These arrivals fed into a charged political environment in Italy over migration during the pandemic and led Italy to increase its military presence along the Slovenian border to help “fight illegal migration”.

    In the first 10 months of 2020, local authorities in Friuli Venezia-Giulia counted 4,500 arrivals. By comparison, nearly 28,000 asylum seekers and migrants have arrived In Italy by sea so far this year.

    But it is difficult to know exactly how many people enter from Slovenia because local officials and international organisations do not regularly publish comprehensive data on land arrivals to Italy, and those crossing the border often try to steer clear of authorities to avoid being pushed back or having their fingerprints taken, which would subject them to the Dublin Protocol, requiring them to apply for asylum in the first EU country they entered.

    Much of the migration activity since May has been taking place in the city of Trieste – just four kilometres from the Slovenian border – and in the surrounding countryside.

    Trieste is a key transit point, and a destination that many migrants and asylum seekers see as offering some respite after the long and often dangerous trek through the mountainous Balkans.

    Those who reach Trieste without being returned are often in poor physical condition and find little official support.

    “Both the services and the response provided to people who arrive is not the most adequate. More should be done,” Chiara Cardoletti, the UN refugee agency’s representative in Italy, said following a visit to Trieste in October, adding: “Coronavirus is complicating the situation."
    The pushback chain

    Asylum seekers and migrants have nicknamed the journey across the Balkans “the game”, because to reach Italy they have to try over and over again, facing pushbacks and violence at each border along the way.

    For many, “the game” – if they are successful – sees them end up under the arches of an old, abandoned building close to Trieste’s train station.

    When TNH visited in October, voices echoed inside. Around 30 people – all recently arrived from Slovenia – were taking shelter on a rainy morning surrounded by worn out children’s shoes, piles of discarded clothes, rotting foam mattresses, and torn backpacks.

    Most were young men in their teens and early twenties from Pakistan and Afghanistan. Like others before them, they were resting for a couple of days before continuing on – they hoped – to Milan, France, or elsewhere in Europe.

    After crossing from Turkey to Greece, they had all reached a bottleneck in Bihać, a town in Bosnia close to the Croatian border where people often become stuck as they try repeatedly to enter the EU. Once they cross the border, it takes up to 20 days through the mountains of Croatia and Slovenia to reach Italy. Many paid thousands of dollars to smugglers to assist them along the way, but ended up with no food for days and only rainwater to drink. Most could barely walk on their battered feet.

    Umar, a 20-year-old from Pakistan who preferred not to use his real name, said he had tried to cross the Balkans nine times before landing up in Trieste. He said he had made it to Italy once before, in May.

    “[The] police caught us and put us somewhere in a [camouflage] tent with many people,” Umar said. “They took our fingerprints. I told the police we are staying here in Italy. We showed our foot injuries, but they said, ‘There is no camp. Go back’.”

    Umar said the Italian authorities handed him over the next morning to the Slovenian police, who passed the group he was with on to the Croatian police, who then put them in a small van and deposited them near the border with Bosnia. “There was no air inside,” he recalled. “The weather was hot.”

    Now back in Italy, Umar planned to travel further inland to the city of Udine, about 65 kilometres from Trieste, to apply for asylum. He was afraid to present himself to authorities in Trieste, believing it was too close to the border and that he might be pushed back again.

    Others in Trieste shared similar stories of reaching Italy on previous attempts only to end up back in Bosnia after being pushed back from one country to the next.

    Muhammed, a 21-year-old also from Pakistan, said he reached Italy on his third attempt crossing the Balkans, and he was taken to the same tent. “There was a translator, who told us, ‘you guys will be staying here in Italy’,” Muhammed said. “Despite that, we were pushed back.”

    Muhammed then described how the Slovenian authorities pushed his group back to Croatia. “The police in Croatia kicked us, punched us,” he recalled. “They… took our money and left us on the Bosnia border.”

    After making it back to Italy again on his fourth attempt, Muhammed said he had now managed to apply for asylum in Trieste.
    ‘It had become systematic’

    The pushbacks from Italy to Slovenia appear to be indiscriminate, according to Schiavone, from ASGI. “[They] have involved everybody, regardless of nationality,” he said. “They pushed back Afghans, Syrians, people from Iraq, people in clear need of protection.”

    Schiavone said the removal procedures appeared to be informal and people are not given the chance to apply for asylum before being returned to Slovenia.

    A spokesperson for the border police in Gorizia, an Italian border town in Friuli Venezia-Giulia, told TNH in a statement that the department was operating in accordance with Ministry of Interior directives, and that people belonging to “‘protected categories’ such as unaccompanied children and pregnant women or, in general, anyone in need of medical assistance”, were excluded from returns. “To safeguard each migrant’s individual circumstances, interviews take place with an interpreter… and multilingual information brochures are handed out,” the spokesperson added.

    The asylum seekers in Trieste told TNH that authorities took their fingerprints and gave them a slip of paper before sending them back to Slovenia.

    “It had become systematic,” Marco Albanese, the supervisor of a migration reception centre in Italy close to the Slovenian border, told TNH. “They were pushing back people who were unable to walk.”

    Those who are intercepted but not pushed back spend a quarantine period at a camp in the countryside before being transferred to a reception centre. Others manage to evade the authorities altogether.

    The job of providing basic services to asylum seekers and migrants not in the official system largely falls to volunteer groups.

    The square outside Trieste’s train station begins to fill with asylum seekers and migrants around 6 in the evening. The night TNH visited, around 30 to 40 people came in small groups, milled around, and sat on benches. Many had no shoes and their badly swollen feet were covered with blisters and cuts.

    Volunteers served hot meals and handed out warm clothes, and young doctors and nurses from an organisation called Strada Si.Cura – a play on the Italian words for safe streets and healing – checked people’s temperatures, performed basic medical screenings, and attended to injuries.

    Sharif, a 16-year-old Afghan whose name has been changed to protect his identity – waited in line to show an infected blister on his foot to one of the medical volunteers. He spent two years in Bosnia and said he was pushed back 15 or 16 times before finally reaching Trieste. Like nearly everyone, he had a story about Croatian police violence, recalling how he was stripped naked, beaten with a stick, and abandoned near the border with Bosnia.

    The thoughts of some in the square turned to people they had met along the way who hadn’t made it to Italy and now face harsh winters somewhere in the Balkans.

    “In our group, there were 80 people,” said Sami, a 23-year-old from Pakistan. “Other people [had] a lot of injuries, a lot of problems… So they stay in the forests in Croatia, in Slovenia, near Bosnia because the way is so hard.”

    https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news-feature/2020/11/17/europe-italy-bosnia-slovenia-migration-pushbacks-expulsion

    #expulsions #refoulements #refoulements_en_chaîne #route_des_Balkans #Italie #Bosnie #Slovénie #Balkans #asile #migrations #réfugiés #push-backs #frontière_sud-alpine #Croatie #Game #The_Game

    ping @isskein @karine4

    • “They punched me because I asked to stop the hot air - pushback from Trieste to Bihac”

      Date and time: September 16, 2020 01:00
      Location: San Dorligo della Valle, TS, Italy
      Coordinates: 45.607175981734, 13.85383960105
      Push-back from: Croatia, Italy, Slovenia
      Push-back to: Bosnia, Croatia, Slovenia
      Demographics: 6 person(s), age: 25-35 , from: Bangladesh, Algeria
      Minors involved? No
      Violence used: beating (with batons/hands/other), exposure to air condition and extreme temperature during car ride, dog attacks, forcing to undress, destruction of personal belongings, theft of personal belongings
      Police involved: Italian Army officers, one army van and one army car; several Italian police officers, one police van; several Slovenian police officers, one police van and several Croatian police officers (masked), one german shepard,, one police van.
      Taken to a police station?: yes
      Treatment at police station or other place of detention: detention, fingerprints taken, photos taken, personal information taken, papers signed, denial of access to toilets, denial of food/water
      Was the intention to ask for asylum expressed?: Yes
      Reported by: Anonymous Partner

      Original Report

      The respondent, an Algerian man, left the city of Bihac (BiH) on 2nd September, 2020 in a group with five other Algerians, aged between 22 and 30 years old. After 12 days of travel they arrived in Trieste (ITA). They entered into Italy near the municipality of San Dorligo della Valle (45.607871, 13.857776), in the early morning on the 14th September. While the group was walking along a the SP12B road, they were tracked down by a military convoy, composed of a car and a van. The three military officers onboard stopped them at the side of the road and called the Italian police, who arrived shortly after with a van.

      The captured group were then transferred with the van to a police station in Fernetti [exact location], a site with a military tent erected for identification procedures of people on the move and asylum seekers. The respondent claims that he found himself together with many around 60 other people from Afghanistan, Bangladesh and Pakistan, in addition to a person from Morocco. Many of the people held at the site, according to him, were minors or had been fingerprinted previously in Greece.

      The people detained in the tent were seperated by nationality. Each person of the transit group was questioned and processed individually in a separate, smaller tent, described as a small silo, the others had to wait in a small room which he describes as a “prison-room”. Personal data was gathered, fingerprints were recorded and photos of their faces were taken. The respondent clearly expressed the will to seek asylum in Italy.

      The assigned translator for the respondent and his group, of Moroccan origin, was already attending to one person from Morocco who was present when they arrived. The respondent overheard the translator suggesting to this person that he should declare himself as a minor. The police officers also searched him and confiscated his phone, a power bank and a watch, which were put inside a plastic bag. After that, the respondent had to sign 3 different documents, one of them – an identification and domicile paper – hidden and preserved by the respondent.

      When they deport you, they make you sign this paper so that they can say you accept it. And of course, you sign it. who care about you? They just say: ‘sign’ and you sign, because you don’t have power and there is no one listening to you.”

      The captured transit group remained in the police station from 08:00 until 17:00. The food was distributed collectively and due to a massive amount of people, some were left without. At some point the respondent requested to go to the
      toilet and he was taken outside, which allowed him to understand the area where he was. The respondent saw a reception center in front of him.

      At the end of the identification procedure, the police took five of the Algerians from the transit group. The sixth person was taken away however, the respondent stating this was because he had been fingerprinted in Greece. Some other Moroccans who were present in the tent were also kept there, which the respondent suggests was due to help from the translator in assisting their access to asylum.

      “Translator plays a big role. Maybe 80%”

      The remaining five people from Algeria were put inside a van. The respondent claims that he clearly saw the officers carrying the bag with his personal items, which he thought they would return to him once left at the next destination. The vehicle did not have either windows or light and the respondent described experiencing difficulties to breath during the ride. At this point the people-on-the-move received a small bottle of water and a small cracker for the first time since the apprehension.

      “They play with you. You just think just when is it finish.”

      Once they were sitting inside the van, the group realized that they were about to be deported to Slovenia and they asked what was going on. The police officers reassured them that they would stay in Trieste. The van then moved on: inside it was very hot and from the ventilation came out hot air. The respondent knocked on a window to attract the attention of the agents, who stopped the van, got out of the vehicle and opened the hatch to ask for explanations of why they were knocking on the window.

      There was a squabble, and one of the two officers punched the respondent, but was immediately stopped by his colleague who invited him to calm down. After the incident, they continued to drive and they arrived in an area, which was described as a road border crossing (likely Pesek-Kozina) between Italy and Slovenia. There, the group found a Slovenian police van with police officers waiting for them. They were transferred very quickly from the Italian police van to the Slovenian van: according to the respondent, officers were looking around with circumspection, as if they were worried about being noticed during the operation ongoing.

      Once the captured transit group were transferred to the Slovenian police van, they were taken in a police station, in Kozina, Slovenia. Here the respondent asked for his personal belongings, but the Slovenian police replied that the Italian police had not given them anything. The respondent doesn’t know if his belongings were kept by the Italian police officers or if the Slovenian police officers lied to him, keeping his belongings.

      In the station in Kozina, the officers took the prints of their thumbs of both hands, and realized that the respondent was already registered in the police database, due to previous entrance he had made into Slovenia (on this occasion he had also signed some documents). Later on, the group was transferred from Kozina to Ljubljana for a Covid-19 screening. After that, they returned to Kozina, where
      they spent the night detained. They stayed in this this location for what the respondent estimated to be a whole night. During this detention the group members could use the toilet and were handed another small bottle of water but were not provided with any food.

      The next morning (15th September) the group were transferred to Croatia, through the Socerga/Pozane border crossing. Here the Slovenian police photographed the documents that they had signed and threw them away in the garbage, before giving the group over to the regular Croatian police. The respondent, also in this occasion, managed to hide one Italian document, putting it inside his underwear (see previous photograph).

      The respondent identified the van that they were put in afterwards to be a Croatian police vehicle. Concerning the ride to Croatia he described that the driver was driving very bumpy, braking very sharply at any given moment.

      “you know, they really try to make you hate yourself. For what you have done and so you never try again to cross border to Croatia.”

      “If they deport you in the day you stay in the police car all day till it gets night. If they deport you in the night, they let you go directly.”

      In Croatia they had to wait for 15 hours, from 10:00 to 01:00 the next day (16th September) in the van. During this time they were not provided with any food or water and just left alone in the car. While they were waiting several other people-on-the-move were brought into the van by Croatian police officers, including a Bangladeshi man. Finally, at around 01:00 two Croatian police officers drove the van to the border of Bosnian territory, about 10 kilometers out of Bihac.

      When they arrived to this location, the respondent described that a Croatian officer wearing a dark uniform and a black ski-mask with a big German Shepherd told them to leave the van and line up in a file. The group-members were then told to get undressed to their boxers and a T-shirt. The officer took all of the clothes in a bin bag and set them on fire. Another officer was waiting behind the wheel of the vehicle during the procedure. The men then had to line up in a row, crowded closely together. The policeman yelled: “haide, go,go,go,go” and let the dog off the leash, which immediately snapped at the arm of the man in the last position in the row. The other men were able to run away in this way, but the last one apparently received a severe wound in his arm. The respondent then walked another 24 hours back to Velika Kladusa, where he started his journey.

      https://www.borderviolence.eu/violence-reports/deport-from-trieste

  • Overlapping crises in Lebanon fuel a new migration to Cyprus

    Driven by increasingly desperate economic circumstances and security concerns in the wake of last month’s Beirut port explosion, a growing number of people are boarding smugglers’ boats in Lebanon’s northern city of Tripoli bound for Cyprus, an EU member state around 160 kilometres away by sea.

    The uptick was thrown into sharp relief on 14 September when a boat packed with 37 people was found adrift off the coast of Lebanon and rescued by the marine task force of UNIFIL, a UN peacekeeping mission that has operated in the country since 1978. At least six people from the boat died, including two children, and six are missing at sea.

    Between the start of July and 14 September, at least 21 boats left Lebanon for Cyprus, according to statistics provided by the UN’s refugee agency, UNHCR. This compares to 17 in the whole of 2019. The majority of this year’s trips have happened since 29 August.

    Overall, more than 52,000 asylum seekers and migrants have crossed the Mediterranean so far this year, and compared to Libya, Tunisia, and Turkey – where most of these boat journeys originate – departures from Lebanon are still low. But given the deteriorating situation in the county and the sudden increase in numbers, the attempted crossings represent a significant new trend.

    Fishermen at the harbour in the Tripoli suburb of Al Mina told The New Humanitarian that groups of would-be migrants have been leaving in recent weeks on fishing vessels to the small island of Rankin off the coast, under the pretense of going for a day’s swimming outing. They then wait on the island to be picked up and taken onward, normally to Cyprus.

    Lebanese politicians have periodically used the threat of a wave of refugees heading for Europe to coax more funds from international donors. Former foreign minister Gebran Bassil told French President Emmanuel Macron after the 4 August port explosion that “those whom we welcome generously, may take the escape route towards you in the event of the disintegration of Lebanon.”

    The vast majority of those trying to reach Cyprus – many hope to continue on to Germany or other countries in mainland Europe – have been Syrian refugees, whose situation in Lebanon was precarious long before its descent into full-on financial and political meltdown over the past year.

    Syrians are still the largest group, but as the coronavirus pandemic has exacerbated the multiple crises facing Lebanon – the country recorded a record 1,006 COVID-19 cases on 20 September, precipitating calls for a new lockdown – Lebanese residents of Tripoli told The New Humanitarian that an increasing number of Lebanese citizens are attempting, or considering, the sea route.

    “How many people are thinking about it? All of us, without exception,” Mohammed al-Jindi, a 32-year-old father of two who manages a mobile phone shop in Tripoli, said of people he knows in the city.

    The Lebanese lira, officially pegged to the dollar at a rate of about 1,500, has lost 80 percent of its value over the past year. Prices of many basic goods have skyrocketed, and more than half of the population is now estimated to be living in poverty. The port explosion – which destroyed some 15,000 metric tonnes of wheat and displaced as many as 300,000 families, at least temporarily – has compounded fears about worsening poverty and food insecurity.

    Adding to the uncertainty, it has been nearly a year since the outbreak of a protest movement calling for the ouster of Lebanon’s long-ruling political class, blamed for much of the country’s dysfunction, including the port explosion. The economic and political turbulence has led to fears about insecurity, wielded as a threat by some political parties. These fears were underscored by violent clashes in Beirut’s suburbs that left two dead at the end of August.

    “In desperate situations, whether in search of safety, protection, or basic survival, people will move, whatever the danger,” Mireille Girard, UNHCR representative in Lebanon, said in a statement following the 14 September incident. “Addressing the reasons of these desperate journeys and the swift collective rescue of people distressed at sea are key.”
    ‘It’s the only choice’

    Al-Jindi is planning to take the sea route himself and bring his family later. But so far he has been unable to scrape together the approximately $1,000 required by smugglers – the ones he has contacted insist on being paid in scarce US dollars, not Lebanese lira. The currency crisis means al-Jindi’s monthly salary of 900,000 Lebanese lira, previously worth $600, is now worth only around $120.

    The port explosion in Beirut added insecurity to al-Jindi’s list of worries. He lives in the neighbourhood of Bab al Tabbaneh – which has sporadically clashed for years with the adjacent neighborhood of Jabal Mohsen – and fears a return of the conflict.

    “I don’t want to let my children live the same experiences… the sound of explosions, the sound of shooting,” al-Jindi said. After the port explosion, he added, “1,000 percent, now I have a greater desire to leave.”

    Paying for a smuggler’s services is beyond the reach of many Lebanese. But members of the country’s shrinking middle class, frustrated with a lack of opportunities, are also contemplating the Mediterranean journey.

    “I don’t want to let my children live the same experiences… the sound of explosions, the sound of shooting.”

    Educated young people are more likely to apply for emigration through legal routes.

    According to Lebanese research firm Information International, about 66,800 Lebanese emigrated in 2019, an increase from the previous year. The firm also reported a 36 percent increase in departures from the Beirut airport after the explosion.

    But with COVID-19 travel restrictions and the general trend of tightening borders around the world, some Lebanese are also turning to the sea.

    Unable to find steady work since he graduated from university with a degree in IT two years ago, 22-year-old Mohammed Ahmad had applied for a visa to Canada, without success, before deciding to take his chances on the sea route. Before the port explosion, Ahmad had already struck a deal with a purported smuggler to take him to Cyprus and then Greece for 10 million Lebanese lira (the equivalent of around $1,200 at the black exchange market rate). The explosion has only strengthened his resolve.

    “Before, you could think, ‘Maybe the dollar will go down, maybe the situation will get better,’” said Ahmad. “Now, you can’t think that way. We know how the situation is.”

    Mustapha Masri, 21, a fourth-year accounting student at Lebanese University, said he hadn’t planned on leaving Lebanon, “but year after year the situation got worse.” Like Ahmad, Masri first tried emigrating legally, but without success.

    A few months ago, acquaintances referred him to a smuggler. He began selling his belongings to raise the funds for the trip, beginning with his laptop, which he traded for a cheaper one. Even his parents were willing to sell valuables to help him, Masri said.

    “In the beginning, they were against it, but after Australia and Germany denied me, they agreed,” Masri said. “It’s the only choice.”

    Increasing movement

    The past two months have shown a significant uptick in crossings.

    According to UNHCR statistics, in all of 2019, only eight boats from Lebanon arrived in Cyprus, seven were intercepted by Lebanese authorities before getting to the open sea, and two went missing at sea.

    In 2020, three boats are known to have left Lebanon for Cyprus in July, followed by 16 in the weeks between 29 August and 9 September, said UNHCR spokeswoman Lisa Abou Khaled. Eight of those boats were confirmed to have reached Cyprus and another two were reported to have arrived but could not be verified, she said. Another five were intercepted by Lebanese authorities and four were pushed back by Cypriot authorities before they reached the island and returned to Lebanon.

    “From our conversations with the individuals, we understand that the majority tried to leave Lebanon because of their dire socio-economic situation and struggle to survive, and that a couple of families left because of the impact of the blast,” Abou Khaled said.

    The pushbacks by Cypriot authorities have raised concerns among refugee rights advocates, who allege that Cyprus is violating the principle of non-refoulement, which states that refugees and asylum seekers should not be forcibly returned to a country where they might face persecution.

    Loizos Michael, spokesman for the Cypriot Ministry of Interior, said of the arriving migrants: “At this point we can only confirm the increase in boats arriving in Cyprus…The Cypriot government is in close cooperation with the Lebanese authorities and within this framework are trying to respond to the issue.”

    In 2002, Lebanon and Cyprus signed a bilateral agreement to cooperate in combating organised crime, including illegal immigration and human trafficking.

    Peter Stano, a spokesman for the European Union, said that the EU Commission takes allegations of pushbacks “very seriously”, adding, “It is essential… that fundamental rights, and EU law more broadly, is fully respected.”
    Worth the risk?

    The sea route to Cyprus is often deadly, as the 14 September incident underscored. To increase their earnings, smugglers pack small vessels beyond their capacity. More than 70 people have died or gone missing in 2020 on the Eastern Mediterranean sea route – which includes boats bound for Cyprus and Greece – up from 59 all of last year.

    Those who TNH spoke to who were contemplating the crossing said they were aware of the dangers but they still considered it worth the risk to attempt the journey.

    “I don’t believe all the talk that life there is like paradise.”

    “There are a lot of people who have gone and arrived, so I don’t want to think from the perspective that I might not arrive,” said Ahmad, the 22-year-old IT graduate. He was sanguine too about what he might find if he makes it to Europe. “I don’t believe all the talk that life there is like paradise and so on, but I’ll go and see,” he said.

    But the plans of both Ahmad and Masri hit a glitch.

    The two young men – who do not know each other – had been expecting to travel last month. Both had paid a percentage of the agreed-upon fee to the purported smuggler as a deposit, the equivalent of about $100. In both cases, soon after they paid, the smuggler disappeared. When they tried contacting him, they found his line had been disconnected.

    Still, they haven’t given up.

    “If I found someone else, I would go – 100 percent,” Masri said. “Anything is better than here.”

    https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news-feature/2020/09/21/Lebanon-Cyprus-Beirut-security-economy-migration

    #Chypre #Liban #migrations #asile #réfugiés #routes_migratoires #itinéraires_migratoires #migrants_libanais #réfugiés_libanais #Méditerranée #mer_Méditerranée

    ping @reka @karine4 @isskein

  • Eritrean refugees in Ethiopia resist camp closure amid COVID-19 fears

    ‘If the government tells us to go, then we have no choice but to go.’

    A plan by the Ethiopian government to relocate around 27,000 Eritrean refugees to two already overcrowded camps is yet to be shelved, despite concerns by aid organisations over both the risk of spreading COVID-19 and the confusion the stated policy has caused.

    The government announced plans in April to close #Hitsats refugee camp and relocate its residents to #Adi_Harush and #Mai_Aini, two other Eritrean camps also located in Ethiopia’s northern Tigray region.

    The UN’s refugee agency, UNHCR, has warned that both Adi Harush and Mai Aini are “already operating at full capacity”, and says that moving the Hitsats residents could “expose the refugees to the risk of COVID-19 infection and outbreak in the camps”.

    Aid workers say all four Eritrean refugee camps in Ethiopia, sheltering a total of about 100,000 people, are severely overcrowded, food is in short supply, and there is poor access to water – crucial for the additional sanitation needs as a result of COVID-19.

    Underlining the threat, a 16-year-old Eritrean girl in Adi Harush in June became the first refugee in the country to test positive for the coronavirus.

    Several other camp residents have since been diagnosed with COVID-19, according to an aid worker in Adi Harush, who asked for anonymity. Ethiopia’s ministry of health did not respond to a request for confirmation from The New Humanitarian.

    “Everyone is very afraid now,” said Tesfay, speaking by phone from Hitsats, who asked that a pseudonym is used to protect his identity.

    “We live with sometimes 15 or 16 people in one room,” he told TNH. “So we don’t know how to quarantine ourselves and it feels impossible to control our environment or protect ourselves from the disease.”

    Ethiopia has recorded close to 30,000 COVID-19 cases with around 530 deaths.

    Water woes

    Along with Ethiopia’s Agency for Refugee and Returnee Affairs (ARRA), UNHCR is working to instal hand-washing facilities, set up quarantine centres, and provide protection equipment to healthcare workers – but acknowledges that more needs to be done.

    Tigray is a bone-dry region where access to water is a perennial problem. While the average daily per capita water supply across the four camps is 19.5 litres, in Hitsats it is just 16 litres – well below the minimum humanitarian standard of 20 litres per person per day.

    Ann Encontre, the head of UNHCR in Ethiopia, said “efforts are being made to address the [water] shortage”, but the refugee agency has so far raised only 30 percent of its $385 million budget for 2020 – including the additional financing needed for its coronavirus response.

    “Because we are refugees, if the government tells us to go, then we have no choice but to go.”

    Established in 2013 in response to overcrowding in Adi Harush and Mai Aini, the Hitsats camp consists of more than 1,300 small concrete block shelters – measuring four metres by five metres – which serve as the cramped, shared living quarters for the refugees.

    Despite the bleak conditions, “none of us want to go to Mai Aini or Adi Harush,” said Tesfay, who fled Eritrea after being jailed for refusing compulsory military conscription. “But because we are refugees, if the government tells us to go, then we have no choice but to go.”
    In the dark

    Four months after the announcement, no relocations have happened, and UNHCR says it is yet to receive any official timeline for the closure of Hitsats, adding to the sense of confusion.

    “Neither information on the government’s plans around the future of Hitsats nor on the options available for the refugees living in the camp have been forthcoming,” said Laetitia Bader, Horn of Africa director at Human Rights Watch.

    “The lack of clarity makes it difficult, notably for humanitarian actors, to assess the impact and plan for any viable, safe alternatives,” Bader told TNH, noting that the uncertainty “risks creating significant confusion and fear for the Eritrean camp residents”.

    In a letter in April informing UNHCR and other aid organisations of the decision to relocate the Hitsats refugees, ARRA said there were “relatively quality services and many unoccupied shelters available” at Adi Harush and Mai Aini, and insisted the move would be carried out in a “very coordinated way that can ensure the safety and dignity of the persons of concern”.

    Encontre said her office has “not observed any expansion of shelters or other infrastructure in either Mai Aini or Adi Harush, or any other preparations to absorb the refugees from Hitsats”.

    ARRA cited a lack of funding from UNHCR – which helps finance the Ethiopian government agency – as one of the reasons behind its decision to close Hitsats.

    Although UNHCR has cut ARRA’s funding by 14 percent this year, “this would not justify a camp closure,” said Encontre.

    TNH reached out to ARRA numerous times for comment, but did not receive a response.
    Struggling with a refugee surge

    Ethiopia has a long tradition of hosting refugees, currently sheltering around 769,000. Eritrean arrivals are typically escaping persecution by a violent and authoritarian government, an economy that cannot provide enough jobs, or are looking to reunite with family members who have already made the journey.

    Last year, there was a surge of 70,000 refugees following a peace deal in 2018 normalising relations between the two countries who fought a two-year war that ended in 2000.

    The influx “overwhelmed key infrastructure in the three camps, particularly shelter, water, and sanitation facilities,” Encontre told TNH. “This is precisely why UNHCR maintains the position that the planned consolidation of Hitsats camp requires adequate planning and time, as well as resources, to be able to expand the necessary infrastructure before any large-scale movement can take place.”

    “Everyone in the camp is very scared to speak about what’s happening here.”

    ARRA has given the Hitsats refugees the option of moving from the camp to cities or towns as part of Ethiopia’s progressive “out of camp” policy. More than 20,000 Eritrean refugees live in urban areas, according to UNHCR.

    But Tesfay said most people in Hitsats, located about 45 kilometres from the nearest town of Shire, do not have the money or connections to survive outside the camp.

    As the months have passed since the closure announcement, distrust has grown between the refugees at Hitsats and ARRA staff, and officials have been accused of trying to pressure the camp’s refugee committee into persuading their fellow refugees to leave.

    “They are causing infighting and disturbing the camp,” Tesfay said of the ARRA staff in Hitsats. “Now, everyone in the camp is very scared to speak about what’s happening here.”

    https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news-feature/2020/08/17/Ethiopia-Eritrea-refugee-camps-coronavirus

    #covid-19 #coronavirus #asile #migrations #réfugiés #Ethiopie #camps_de_réfugiés #réfugiés_érythréens

    ping @ceped_migrinter_afrique

  • Nigerians returned from Europe face stigma and growing hardship

    ‘There’s no job here, and even my family is ashamed to see me, coming back empty-handed with two kids.’

    The EU is doubling down on reducing migration from Africa, funding both voluntary return programmes for those stranded along migration routes before they reach Europe while also doing its best to increase the number of rejected asylum seekers it is deporting.

    The two approaches serve the same purpose for Brussels, but the amount of support provided by the EU and international aid groups for people to get back on their feet is radically different depending on whether they are voluntary returnees or deportees.

    For now, the coronavirus pandemic has slowed voluntary return programmes and significantly reduced the number of people being deported from EU countries, such as Germany. Once travel restrictions are lifted, however, the EU will likely resume its focus on both policies.

    The EU has made Nigeria one of five priority countries in Africa in its efforts to reduce the flow of migrants and asylum seekers. This has involved pouring hundreds of millions of euros into projects in Nigeria to address the “root causes” of migration and funding a “voluntary return” programme run by the UN’s migration agency, IOM.

    Since its launch in 2017, more than 80,000 people, including 16,800 Nigerians, have been repatriated to 23 African countries after getting stuck or having a change of heart while travelling along often-dangerous migration routes connecting sub-Saharan Africa to North Africa.

    Many of the Nigerians who have opted for IOM-facilitated repatriation were stuck in detention centres or exploitative labour situations in Libya. Over the same time period, around 8,400 Nigerians have been deported from Europe, according to official figures.

    Back in their home country, little distinction is made between voluntary returnees and deportees. Both are often socially stigmatised and rejected by their communities. Having a family member reach Europe and be able to send remittances back home is often a vital lifeline for people living in impoverished communities. Returning – regardless of how it happens – is seen as failure.

    In addition to stigmatisation, returnees face daily economic struggles, a situation that has only become worse with the coronavirus pandemic’s impact on Nigeria’s already struggling economy.

    Despite facing common challenges, deportees are largely left to their own devices, while voluntary returnees have access to an EU-funded support system that includes a small three-months salary, training opportunities, controversial “empowerment” and personal development sessions, and funds to help them start businesses – even if these programmes often don’t necessarily end up being effective.
    ‘It’s a well-oiled mechanism’

    Many of the voluntary returnee and deportation flights land in Lagos, Nigeria’s biggest city and main hub for international travel. On a hot and humid day in February, before countries imposed curfews and sealed their borders due to coronavirus, two of these flights arrived within several hours of each other at the city’s hulking airport.

    First, a group of about 45 people in winter clothes walked through the back gate of the cargo airport looking out of place and disoriented. Deportees told TNH they had been taken into immigration custody by German police the day before and forced onto a flight in Frankfurt. Officials from the Nigerian Immigration Service, the country’s border police, said they are usually told to prepare to receive deportees after the planes have already left from Europe.

    Out in the parking lot, a woman fainted under the hot sun. When she recovered, she said she was pregnant and didn’t know where she would sleep that night. A man began shouting angrily about how he had been treated in Europe, where he had lived for 16 years. Police officers soon arrived to disperse the deportees. Without money or phones, many didn’t know where to go or what to do.

    Several hours later, a plane carrying 116 voluntary returnees from Libya touched down at the airport’s commercial terminal. In a huge hangar, dozens of officials guided the returnees through an efficient, well-organised process.

    The voluntary returnees queued patiently to be screened by police, state health officials, and IOM personnel who diligently filled out forms. Officials from Nigeria’s anti-people trafficking agency also screened the female returnees to determine if they had fallen victim to an illegal network that has entrapped tens of thousands of Nigerian women in situations of forced sex work in Europe and in transit countries such as Libya and Niger.

    “It’s a well-oiled mechanism. Each agency knows its role,” Alexander Oturu, a programme manager at Nigeria’s National Commission for Refugees, Migrants & Internally Displaced Persons, which oversees the reception of returnees, told The New Humanitarian.

    Voluntary returnees are put up in a hotel for one night and then helped to travel back to their home regions or temporarily hosted in government shelters, and later they have access to IOM’s reintegration programming.

    Initially, there wasn’t enough funding for the programmes. But now almost 10,000 of the around 16,600 returnees have been able to access this support, out of which about 4,500 have set up small businesses – mostly shops and repair services – according to IOM programme coordinator Abrham Tamrat Desta.

    The main goal is to “address the push factors, so that upon returning, these people don’t face the same situation they fled from”, Desta said. “This is crucial, as our data show that 97 percent of returnees left for economic reasons.”
    COVID-19 making things worse

    Six hours drive south of Lagos is Benin City, the capital of Edo State.

    An overwhelming number of the people who set out for Europe come from this region. It is also where the majority of European migration-related funding ends up materialising, in the form of job creation programmes, awareness raising campaigns about the risks of irregular migration, and efforts to dismantle powerful trafficking networks.

    Progress* is one of the beneficiaries. When TNH met her she was full of smiles, but at 26 years old, she has already been through a lot. After being trafficked at 17 and forced into sex work in Libya, she had a child whose father later died in a shipwreck trying to reach Europe. Progress returned to Nigeria, but couldn’t escape the debt her traffickers expected her to pay. Seeing little choice, she left her child with her sister and returned to Libya.

    Multiple attempts to escape spiralling violence in the country ended in failure. Once, she was pulled out of the water by Libyan fishermen after nearly drowning. Almost 200 other people died in that wreck. On two other occasions, the boat she was in was intercepted and she was dragged back to shore by the EU-supported Libyan Coast Guard.

    After the second attempt, she registered for the IOM voluntary return programme. “I was hoping to get back home immediately, but Libyans put me in prison and obliged me to pay to be released and take the flight,” she said.

    Back in Benin City, she took part in a business training programme run by IOM. She couldn’t provide the paperwork needed to launch her business and finally found support from Pathfinders Justice Initiative – one of the many local NGOs that has benefited from EU funding in recent years.

    She eventually opened a hairdressing boutique, but coronavirus containment measures forced her to close up just as she was starting to build a regular clientele. Unable to provide for her son, now seven years old, she has been forced to send him back to live with her sister.

    Progress isn’t the only returnee struggling due to the impact of the pandemic. Mobility restrictions and the shuttering of non-essential activities – due to remain until early August at least – have “exacerbated returnees’ existing psychosocial vulnerabilities”, an IOM spokesperson said.

    The Edo State Task Force to Combat Human Trafficking, set up by the local government to coordinate prosecutions and welfare initiatives, is trying to ease the difficulties people are facing by distributing food items. As of early June, the task force said it had reached 1,000 of the more than 5,000 people who have returned to the state since 2017.
    ‘Sent here to die’

    Jennifer, 39, lives in an unfinished two-storey building also in Benin City. When TNH visited, her three-year-old son, Prince, stood paralysed and crying, and her six-year-old son, Emmanuel, ran and hid on the appartment’s small balcony. “It’s the German police,” Jennifer said. “The kids are afraid of white men now.”

    Jennifer, who preferred that only her first name is published, left Edo State in 1999. Like many others, she was lied to by traffickers, who tell young Nigerian women they will send them to Europe to get an education or find employment but who end up forcing them into sex work and debt bondage.

    It took a decade of being moved around Europe by trafficking rings before Jennifer was able to pay off her debt. She got a residency permit and settled down in Italy for a period of time. In 2016, jobless and looking to get away from an unstable relationship, she moved to Germany and applied for asylum.

    Her application was not accepted, but deportation proceedings against her were put on hold. That is until June 2019, when 15 policemen showed up at her apartment. “They told me I had five minutes to check on my things and took away my phone,” Jennifer said.

    The next day she was on a flight to Nigeria with Prince and Emmanuel. When they landed, “the Nigerian Immigration Service threw us out of the gate of the airport in Lagos, 20 years after my departure”. she said.

    Nine months after being deported, Jennifer is surviving on small donations coming from volunteers in Germany. It’s the only aid she has received. “There’s no job here, and even my family is ashamed to see me, coming back empty-handed with two kids,” she said.

    Jennifer, like other deportees TNH spoke to, was aware of the support system in place for people who return through IOM, but felt completely excluded from it. The deportation and lack of support has taken a heavy psychological toll, and Jennifer said she has contemplated suicide. “I was sent here to die,” she said.
    ‘The vicious circle of trafficking’

    Without a solid economic foundation, there’s always a risk that people will once again fall victim to traffickers or see no other choice but to leave on their own again in search of opportunity.

    “When support is absent or slow to materialise – and this has happened also for Libyan returnees – women have been pushed again in the hands of traffickers,” said Ruth Evon Odahosa, from the Pathfinders Justice Initiative.

    IOM said its mandate does not include deportees, and various Nigerian government agencies expressed frustration to TNH about the lack of European interest in the topic. “These deportations are implemented inhumanely,” said Margaret Ngozi Ukegbu, a zonal director for the National Commission for Refugees, Migrants and Internally Displaced Persons.

    The German development agency, GIZ, which runs several migration-related programmes in Nigeria, said their programming does not distinguish between returnees and deportees, but the agency would not disclose figures on how many deportees had benefited from its services.

    Despite the amount of money being spent by the EU, voluntary returnees often struggle to get back on their feet. They have psychological needs stemming from their journeys that go unmet, and the businesses started with IOM seed money frequently aren’t sustainable in the long term.

    “It’s crucial that, upon returning home, migrants can get access to skills acquisition programmes, regardless of the way they returned, so that they can make a new start and avoid falling back in the vicious circle of trafficking,” Maria Grazie Giammarinaro, the former UN’s special rapporteur on trafficking in persons, told TNH.

    * Name changed at request of interviewee.

    https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news-feature/2020/07/28/Nigeria-migrants-return-Europe

    #stigmatisation #renvois #expulsions #asile #migrations #réfugiés #Nigeria #réfugiés_nigérians #réintegration #retour_volontaire #IOM #OIM #chiffres #statistiques #trafic_d'êtres_humains

    ping @_kg_ @rhoumour @isskein @karine4

  • What happens to migrants forcibly returned to Libya?

    ‘These are people going missing by the hundreds.’

    The killing last week of three young men after they were intercepted at sea by the EU-funded Libyan Coast Guard has thrown the spotlight on the fate of tens of thousands of migrants and asylum seekers returned to Libya to face detention, abuse and torture by traffickers, or worse.

    The three Sudanese nationals aged between 15 and 18 were shot dead on 28 July, reportedly by members of a militia linked to the Coast Guard as they tried to avoid being detained. They are among more than 6,200 men, women, and children intercepted on the central Mediterranean and returned to Libya this year. Since 2017, that figure is around 40,000.

    Over the last three months, The New Humanitarian has spoken to migrants and Libyan officials, as well as to UN agencies and other aid groups and actors involved, to piece together what is happening to the returnees after they are brought back to shore.

    It has long been difficult to track the whereabouts of migrants and asylum seekers after they are returned to Libya, and for years there have been reports of people going missing or disappearing into unofficial detention centres after disembarking.

    But the UN’s migration agency, IOM, told TNH there has been an uptick in people vanishing off its radar since around December, and it suspects that at least some returnees are being taken to so-called “data-collection and investigation facilities” under the direct control of the Ministry of Interior for the Government of National Accord.

    The GNA, the internationally recognised authority in Libya, is based in the capital, Tripoli, and has been fighting eastern forces commanded by general Khalifa Haftar for 16 months in a series of battles that has developed into a regional proxy war.

    Unlike official detention centres run by the GNA’s Directorate for Combating Illegal Migration (DCIM) – also under the Ministry of the Interior – and its affiliated militias, neither IOM nor the UN’s refugee agency, UNHCR, has access to these data-collection facilities, which are intended for the investigation of smugglers and not for detaining migrants.

    “We have been told that migrants are no longer in these [data-collection] facilities and we wonder if they have been transferred,” Safa Msehli, spokesperson for IOM in Libya, told TNH.

    “These are people going missing by the hundreds. We have also been told – and are hearing reports from community leaders – that people are going missing,” she said. “We feel the worst has happened, and that these locations [data-collection facilities] are being used to smuggle or traffic people.”

    According to IOM, more than half of the over 6,200 people returned to Libya this year – which includes at least 264 women and 202 children – remain unaccounted for after being loaded onto buses and driven away from the disembarkation points on the coast.

    Msehli said some people had been released after they are returned, but that their number was “200 maximum”, and that if others had simply escaped she would have expected them to show up at community centres run by IOM and its local partners – which most haven’t.

    Masoud Abdal Samad, a commander in the Libyan Coast Guard, denied all accusations of trafficking to TNH, even though the UN has sanctioned individuals in the Coast Guard for their involvement in people smuggling and trafficking. He also said he didn’t know where asylum seekers and migrants end up after they are returned to shore. “It’s not my responsibility. It’s DCIM that determines where the migrants go,” he said.

    Neither the head of the DCIM, Al Mabrouk Abdel-Hafez, nor the media officer for the interior ministry, Mohammad Abu Abdallah, responded to requests for comment from TNH. But the Libyan government recently told the Wall Street Journal that all asylum seekers and migrants returned by the Coast Guard are taken to official detention centres.
    ‘I can’t tell you where we take them’

    TNH spoke to four migrants – three of whom were returned by the Libyan Coast Guard and placed in detention, one of them twice. All described a system whereby returned migrants and asylum seekers are being routinely extorted and passed between different militias.

    Contacted via WhatsApp, Yasser, who only gave his first name for fear of retribution for exposing the abuse he suffered, recounted his ordeal in a series of conversations between May and June.

    The final stage of his journey to start a new life in Europe began on a warm September morning in 2019 when he squeezed onto a rubber dinghy along with 120 other people in al-Garabulli, a coastal town near Tripoli. The year before, the 33-year-old Sudanese asylum seeker had escaped from conflict in his village in the Nuba Mountains to search for safety and opportunity.

    By nightfall, those on board the small boat spotted a reconnaissance aircraft, likely dispatched as part of an EU or Italian aerial surveillance mission. It appears the aircraft alerted the Libyan Coast Guard, which soon arrived to drag them onto their boat and back to war-torn Libya.

    Later that day, as the boat approached the port, Yasser overheard a uniformed member of the Coast Guard speaking on the phone. The man said he had around 100 migrants and was willing to sell each one for 500 Libyan dinars ($83).

    “Militias buy and sell us to make a profit in this country,” Yasser told TNH months later, after he escaped. “In their eyes, refugees are just an investment.”

    When Yasser stepped off the Coast Guard boat in Tripoli’s port, he saw dozens of people he presumed were aid workers tending to the injured. He tried to tell them that he and the others were going to be sold to a militia, but the scene was frantic and he said they didn’t listen.

    “Militias buy and sell us to make a profit in this country. In their eyes, refugees are just an investment.”

    Yasser couldn’t recall which organisation the aid workers were from. Whoever was there, they watched Libyan authorities herd Yasser and the other migrants onto a handful of buses and drive them away.

    IOM, or UNHCR, or one of their local partners are usually present at disembarkation points when migrants are returned to shore. The two UN agencies, which receive significant EU funding for their operations in Libya and have been criticised for participating in the system of interception and detention, say they tend to the injured and register asylum seekers. They also said they count the number of people returned from sea and jot down their nationalities and gender.

    But both agencies told TNH they are unable to track where people go next because Libyan authorities do not keep an official database of asylum seekers and migrants intercepted at sea or held in detention centres.

    News footage – and testimonies from migrants and aid workers – shows white buses with DCIM logos frequently pick up those disembarking. TNH also identified a private bus company that DCIM contracts for transportation. The company, called Essahim, imported 130 vehicles from China before beginning operations in September 2019.

    On its Facebook page, Essahim only advertises its shuttle bus services to Misrata airport, in northwest Libya. But a high-level employee, who asked TNH not to disclose his name for fear of reprisal from Libyan authorities, confirmed that the company picks up asylum seekers and migrants from disembarkation points on the shore.

    He said all of Essahim’s buses are equipped with a GPS tracking system to ensure drivers don’t deviate from their route. He also emphasised that the company takes people to “legitimate centres”, but he refused to disclose the locations.

    “You have to ask the government,” he told TNH. “I can’t tell you where we take them. It’s one of the conditions in the contract.”

    Off the radar

    Since Libya’s 2011 revolution, state security forces – such as the Coast Guard and interior ministry units – have mostly consisted of a collection of militias vying for legitimacy and access to sources of revenue.

    Migrant detention centres have been particularly lucrative to control, and even the official ones can be run by whichever local militia or armed group holds sway at a particular time. Those detained are not granted rights or legal processes, and there have been numerous reports of horrific abuse, and deaths from treatable diseases like tuberculosis.

    Facts regarding the number of different detention centres and who controls them are sketchy, especially as they often close and re-open or come under new management, and as territory can change hands between the GNA and forces aligned with Haftar. Both sides have a variety of militias fighting alongside them, and there are splits within the alliances.

    But IOM’s Msehli told TNH that as of 1 August that there are 11 official detention centres run by DCIM, and that she was aware of returned migrants also being taken to what she believes are four different data-collection and investigation facilities – three in Tripoli and one in Zuwara, a coastal city about 100 kilometres west of the capital. The government has not disclosed how many data-collection centres there are or where they are located.

    Beyond the official facilities, there are also numerous makeshift compounds used by smugglers and militias – especially in the south and in the former Muammar Gaddafi stronghold of Bani Walid – for which there is no data, according to a report by the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organised Crime (GI).

    Yasser told TNH he had no idea if he was in an official DCIM-run detention centre or an unofficial site after he was pulled off the bus that took him to a makeshift prison from the port of Tripoli. Unless UN agencies show up, it is hard for detainees to tell the difference. Conditions are dismal and abuses occur in both locations: In unofficial facilities the extortion of detainees is systematic, while in official centres it tends to be carried out by individual staff members, according to the GI report.

    Between Yasser’s description and information from an aid group that gained access to the facility – but declined to be identified for fear of jeopardising its work – TNH believes Yasser was taken to an informal centre in Tripoli called Shaaria Zawiya, outside the reach of UN agencies. Msehli said IOM believes it is a data-collection and investigation facility.

    During the time Yasser was there, the facility was under the control of a militia commander with a brutal reputation, according to a high-level source from the aid group. The commander was eventually replaced in late 2019, but not before trying to extort hundreds of people, including Yasser.

    Several nights after he arrived at the centre, everyone being held there was ordered to pay a 3,000 Libyan dinar ransom – about $500 on the Libyan black market. The militia separated detainees by nationality and tossed each group a cell phone. They gave one to the Eritreans, one to the Somalis, and one to the Sudanese. The detainees were told to call their families and beg, Yasser recalled.

    Those who couldn’t pay languished in the centre until they were sold for a lower sum to another militia, which would try to extort them for a smaller ransom to earn a profit. This is a widely reported trend all across Libya: Militias sell migrants they can’t extort to make space for new hostages.

    Yasser’s friends and family were too poor to pay for his release, yet he clung to hope that he would somehow escape. He watched as the militia commander beat and intimidated other asylum seekers and migrants in the centre, but he was too scared to intervene. As the weeks passed, he started to believe nobody would find him.

    Then, one day, he saw a couple of aid workers. They came to document the situation and treat the wounded. “The migrants who spoke English whispered for help, but [the aid workers] just kept silent and nodded,” Yasser said.

    The aid workers were from the same NGO that identified the data-collection facility to TNH. The aid group said it suspects that Libyan authorities are taking migrants to two other locations in Tripoli after disembarkation: a data-collection and investigation facility in a neighbourhood called Hay al-Andulus, and an abandoned tobacco factory in another Tripoli suburb. “I know the factory exists, but I have no idea how many people are inside,” the source said, adding that the aid group had been unable to negotiate access to either location.

    “We were treated like animals.”

    Msehli confirmed that IOM believes migrants have been taken to both compounds, neither of which are under DCIM control. She added that more migrants are ending up in another unofficial location in Tripoli.

    After languishing for two months, until November, in Shaaria Zawiya, Yasser said he was sold to a militia manning what he thinks was an official detention centre. He assumed the location was official because uniformed UNHCR employees frequently showed up with aid. When UNHCR wasn’t there, the militia still demanded ransoms from the people inside.

    “We were treated like animals,” Yasser said. “But at least when UNHCR visited, the militia fed us more food than usual.”

    Tariq Argaz, the spokesperson for UNHCR in Libya, defended the agency’s aid provision to official facilities like this one, saying: “We are against the detention of refugees, but we have a humanitarian imperative to assist refugees wherever they are, even if it is a detention centre.”

    Growing pressure on EU to change tack

    The surge in disappearances raises further concerns about criminality and human rights abuses occurring within a system of interception and detention by Libyan authorities that the EU and EU member states have funded and supported since 2017.

    The aim of the support is to crack down on smuggling networks, reduce the number of asylum seekers and migrants arriving in Europe, and improve detention conditions in Libya, but critics say it has resulted in tens of thousands of people being returned to indefinite detention and abuse in Libya. There is even less oversight now that asylum seekers and migrants are ending up in data-collection and investigation facilities, beyond the reach of UN agencies.

    The escalating conflict in Libya and the coronavirus crisis have made the humanitarian situation for asylum seekers and migrants in the country “worse than ever”, according to IOM. At the same time, Italy and Malta have further turned their backs on rescuing people at sea. Italy has impounded NGO search and rescue ships, while both countries have repeatedly failed to respond, or responded slowly, to distress calls, and Malta even hired a private fishing vessel to return people rescued at sea to Libya.

    “We believe that people shouldn’t be returned to Libya,” Msehli told TNH. “This is due to the lack of any protection mechanism that the Libyan state takes or is able to take.”

    There are currently estimated to be at least 625,000 migrants in Libya and 47,859 registered asylum seekers and refugees. Of this number, around 1,760 migrants – including 760 registered asylum seekers and refugees – are in the DCIM-run detention centres, according to data from IOM and UNHCR, although IOM’s data only covers eight out of the 11 DCIM facilities.

    The number of detainees in unofficial centres and makeshift compounds is unknown but, based on those unaccounted for and the reported experiences of migrants, could be many times higher. A recent estimate from Liam Kelly, director of the Danish Refugee Council in Libya, suggests as many as 80,000 people have been in them at some point in recent years.

    There remains no clear explanation why some people intercepted attempting the sea journey appear to be being taken to data-collection and investigation facilities, while others end up in official centres. But researchers believe migrants are typically taken to facilities that have space to house new detainees, or other militias may strike a deal to purchase a new group to extort them.

    In a leaked report from last year, the EU acknowledged that the GNA “has not taken steps to improve the situation in the centres”, and that “the government’s reluctance to address the problems raises questions of its own involvement”.

    The UN, human rights groups, researchers, journalists and TNH have noted that there is little distinction between criminal groups, militias, and other entities involved in EU-supported migration control activities under the GNA.

    A report released last week by UNHCR and the Mixed Migration Centre (MMC) at the Danish Refugee Council said that migrants being smuggled and trafficked to the Mediterranean coast had identified the primary perpetrators of abuses as state officials and law enforcement.

    Pressure on the EU over its proximity to abuses resulting from the interception and detention of asylum seekers and migrants in Libya is mounting. International human rights lawyers have filed lawsuits to the International Criminal Court (ICC), the UN human rights committee, and the European Court of Human Rights to attempt to hold the EU accountable.

    Peter Stano, the EU Commission’s official spokesperson for External Affairs, told TNH that the EU doesn’t consider Libya a safe country, but that its priority has always been to stop irregular migration to keep migrants from risking their lives, while protecting the most vulnerable.

    “We have repeated again and again, together with our international partners in the UN and African Union, that arbitrary detention of migrants and refugees in Libya must end, including to Libyan authorities,” he said. “The situation in these centres is unacceptable, and arbitrary detention of migrants and refugees upon disembarkation must stop.”

    For Yasser, it took a war for him to have the opportunity to escape from detention. In January this year, the facility he was in came under heavy fire during a battle in the war for Tripoli. Dozens of migrants, including Yasser, made a run for it.

    He is now living in a crowded house with other Sudanese asylum seekers in the coastal town of Zawiya, and says that returning to the poverty and instability in Sudan is out of the question. With his sights set on Europe, he still intends to cross the Mediterranean, but he’s afraid of being intercepted by the Libyan Coast Guard, trafficked, and extorted all over again.

    “It’s a business,” said Yasser. “Militias pay for your head and then they force you to pay for your freedom.”

    https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news-feature/2020/08/05/missing-migrants-Libya-forced-returns-Mediterranean

    #chronologie #timeline #time-line #migrations #asile #réfugiés #chiffres #statistiques #pull-back #pull-backs #push-backs #refoulements #disparitions #torture #décès #morts #gardes-côtes_libyens #détention #centres_de_détention #milices

    ping @isskein

    • The legal battle to hold the EU to account for Libya migrant abuses

      ‘It’s a well known fact that we’re all struggling here, as human rights practitioners.’

      More than 6,500 asylum seekers and migrants have been intercepted at sea and returned to Libya by the Libyan Coast Guard so far this year. Since the EU and Italy began training, funding, equipping, and providing operational assistance to the Libyan Coast Guard in 2017, that number stands at around 40,000 people.

      Critics say European support for these interceptions and returns is one of the most glaring examples of the trade-off being made between upholding human rights – a fundamental EU value – and the EU’s determination to reduce migration to the continent.

      Those intercepted at sea and returned to Libya by the Libyan Coast Guard – predominantly asylum seekers and migrants from East and West Africa – face indefinite detention, extortion, torture, sexual exploitation, and forced labour.

      This year alone, thousands have disappeared beyond the reach of UN agencies after being disembarked. Migration detention in Libya functions as a business that generates revenue for armed groups, some of whom have also pressed asylum seekers and migrants into military activities – a practice that is likely a war crime, according to Human Rights Watch.

      All of this has been well documented and widely known for years, even as the EU and Italy have stepped up their support for the Libyan Coast Guard. Yet despite their key role in empowering the Coast Guard to return people to Libya, international human rights lawyers have struggled to hold the EU and Italy to account. Boxed in by the limitations of international law, lawyers have had to find increasingly innovative legal strategies to try to establish European complicity in the abuses taking place.

      As the EU looks to expand its cooperation with third countries, the outcome of these legal efforts could have broader implications on whether the EU and its member states can be held accountable for the human rights impacts of their external migration policies.

      “Under international law there are rules… prohibiting states to assist other states in the commission of human rights violations,” Matteo de Bellis, Amnesty International’s migration researcher, told The New Humanitarian. “However, those international rules do not have a specific court where you can litigate them, where individuals can have access to remedy.”

      In fact, human rights advocates and lawyers argue that EU and Italian support for the Libyan Coast Guard is designed specifically to avoid legal responsibility.

      “For a European court to have jurisdiction over a particular policy, a European actor must be in control... of a person directly,” said Itamar Mann, an international human rights lawyer. “When a non-European agent takes that control, it’s far from clear that [a] European court has jurisdiction. So there is a kind of accountability gap under international human rights law.”
      ‘The EU is not blameless’

      When Italy signed a Memorandum of Understanding in February 2017 with Libya’s internationally recognised Government of National Accord (GNA) “to ensure the reduction of illegal migratory flows”, the agreement carried echoes of an earlier era.

      In 2008, former Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi signed a friendship treaty with Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi that, among other things, committed the two countries to working together to curb irregular migration.

      The following year, Italian patrol boats began intercepting asylum seekers and migrants at sea and returning them to Libya. In 2012, the European Court of Human Rights, an international court based in Strasbourg, France – which all EU member states are party to – ruled that the practice violated multiple articles of the European Convention on Human Rights.

      The decision, in what is known as the Hirsi case, was based on the idea that Italy had established “extraterritorial jurisdiction” over asylum seekers and migrants when it took them under their control at sea and had violated the principle of non-refoulement – a core element of international refugee law – by forcing them back to a country where they faced human rights abuses.

      Many states that have signed the 1951 refugee convention have integrated the principle of non-refoulement into their domestic law, binding them to protect asylum seekers once they enter a nation’s territory. But there are divergent interpretations of how it applies to state actors in international waters.

      By the time of the Hirsi decision, the practice had already ended and Gaddafi had been toppled from power. The chaos that followed the Libyan uprising in 2011 paved the way for a new era of irregular migration. The number of people crossing the central Meditteranean jumped from an average of tens of thousands per year throughout the late 1990s and 2000s to more than 150,000 per year in 2014, 2015, and 2016.

      Reducing these numbers became a main priority for Italy and the EU, and they kept the lessons of the Hirsi case in mind as they set about designing their policies, according to de Bellis.

      Instead of using European vessels, the EU and Italy focused on “enabling the Libyan authorities to do the dirty job of intercepting people at sea and returning them to Libya”, he said. “By doing so, they would argue that they have not breached international European law because they have never assumed control, and therefore exercised jurisdiction, over the people who have then been subjected to human rights violations [in Libya].”

      The number of people crossing the central Mediterranean has dropped precipitously in recent years as EU policies have hardened, and tens of thousands of people – including those returned by the Coast Guard – are estimated to have passed through formal and informal migration detention centres in Libya, some of them getting stuck for years and many falling victim to extortion and abuse.

      “There is always going to be a debate about, is the EU responsible… [because] it’s really Libya who has done the abuses,” said Carla Ferstman, a human rights law professor at the University of Essex in England. “[But] the EU is not blameless because it can’t pretend that it didn’t know the consequences of what it was going to do.”

      The challenge for human rights lawyers is how to legally establish that blame.
      The accountability gap

      Since 2017, the EU has given more than 91 million euros (about $107 million) to support border management projects in Libya. Much of that money has gone to Italy, which implements the projects and has provided its own funding and at least six patrol boats to the Libyan Coast Guard.

      One objective of the EU’s funding is to improve the human rights and humanitarian situation in official detention centres. But according to a leaked EU document from 2019, this is something the Libyan government had not been taking steps to do, “raising the question of its own involvement”, according to the document.

      The main goal of the funding is to strengthen the capacity of Libyan authorities to control the country’s borders and intercept asylum seekers and migrants at sea. This aspect of the policy has been effective, according to a September 2019 report by the UN secretary-general.

      “All our action is based on international and European law,” an EU spokesperson told the Guardian newspaper in June. “The European Union dialogue with Libyan authorities focuses on the respect for human rights of migrants and refugees.”

      The EU has legal obligations to ensure that its actions do not violate human rights in both its internal and external policy, according to Ferstman. But when it comes to actions taken outside of Europe, “routes for those affected to complain when their rights are being violated are very, very weak,” she said.

      The EU and its member states are also increasingly relying on informal agreements, such as the Memorandum of Understanding with Libya, in their external migration cooperation.

      “Once the EU makes formal agreements with third states… [it] is more tightly bound to a lot of human rights and refugee commitments,” Raphael Bossong, a researcher at the German Institute for International and Security Affairs (SWP) in Berlin, told TNH. “Hence, we see a shift toward less binding or purely informal arrangements.”

      Lawyers and researchers told TNH that the absence of formal agreements, and the combination of EU funding and member state implementation, undermines the standing of the EU Parliament and the Court of Justice, the bloc’s supreme court, to act as watchdogs.

      Efforts to challenge Italy’s role in cooperating with Libya in Italian courts have also so far been unsuccessful.

      “It’s a well known fact that we’re all struggling here, as human rights practitioners… to grapple with the very limited, minimalistic tools we have to address the problem at hand,” said Valentina Azarova, a lawyer and researcher affiliated with the Global Legal Action Network (GLAN), a nonprofit organisation that pursues international human rights litigation.

      Uncharted territory

      With no clear path forward, human rights lawyers have ventured into uncharted territory to try to subject EU and Italian cooperation with Libya to legal scrutiny.

      Lawyers called last year for the International Criminal Court to investigate the EU for its alleged complicity in thousands of deaths in the Mediterranean, and legal organisations have filed two separate complaints with the UN Human Rights Committee, which has a quasi-judicial function.

      In November last year, GLAN also submitted a case, called S.S. and others v. Italy, to the European Court of Human Rights that aims to build on the Hirsi decision. The case argues that – through its financial, material, and operational support – Italy assumes “contactless control” over people intercepted by Libyan Coast Guard and therefore establishes jurisdiction over them.

      “Jurisdiction is not only a matter of direct, effective control over bodies,” Mann, who is part of GLAN, said of the case’s argument. “It’s also a matter of substantive control that can be wielded in many different ways.”

      GLAN, along with two Italian legal organisations, also filed a complaint in April to the European Court of Auditors, which is tasked with checking to see if the EU’s budget is implemented correctly and that funds are spent legally.

      The GLAN complaint alleges that funding border management activities in Libya makes the EU and its member states complicit in the human rights abuses taking place there, and is also a misuse of money intended for development purposes – both of which fall afoul of EU budgetary guidelines.

      The complaint asks for the EU funding to be made conditional on the improvement of the situation for asylum seekers and migrants in the country, and for it to be suspended until certain criteria are met, including the release of all refugees and migrants from arbitrary detention, the creation of an asylum system that complies with international standards, and the establishment of an independent, transparent mechanism to monitor and hold state and non-state actors accountable for human rights violations against refugees and migrants.

      The Court of Auditors is not an actual courtroom or a traditional venue for addressing human rights abuses. It is composed of financial experts who conduct an annual audit of the EU budget. The complaint is meant to encourage them to take a specific look at EU funding to Libya, but they aren’t obligated to do so.

      “To use the EU Court of Auditors to get some kind of human rights accountability is an odd thing to do,” said Ferstman, who is not involved in the complaint. “It speaks to the [accountability] gap and the absence of clear approaches.”

      “[Still], it is the institution where this matter needs to be adjudicated, so to speak,” Azarova, who came up with the strategy, added. “They are the experts on questions of EU budget law.”

      Closing the gap?

      If successful, the Court of Auditors complaint could change how EU funding for Libya operates and set a precedent requiring a substantive accounting of how money is being spent and whether it ends up contributing to human rights violations in other EU third-country arrangements, according to Mann. “It will be a blow to the general externalisation pattern,” he said.

      Ferstman cautioned, however, that its impact – at least legally – might not be so concrete. “[The Court of Auditors] can recommend everything that GLAN has put forward, but it will be a recommendation,” she said. “It will not be an order.”

      Instead, the complaint’s more significant impact might be political. “It could put a lot of important arsenal in the hands of the MEPs [Members of the European Parliament] who want to push forward changes,” Ferstman said.

      A European Court of Human Rights decision in favour of the plaintiffs in S.S. and others v Italy could be more decisive. “It would go a long way towards addressing that [accountability] gap, because individuals will be able to challenge European states that encourage and assist other countries to commit human rights violations,” de Bellis said.

      If any or all of the various legal challenges that are currently underway are successful, Bossong, from SWP, doesn’t expect them to put an end to external migration cooperation entirely. “Many [external] cooperations would continue,” he said. “[But] policy-makers and administrators would have to think harder: Where is the line? Where do we cross the line?”

      The Court of Auditors will likely decide whether to review EU funding for border management activities in Libya next year, but the European Court of Human Rights moves slowly, with proceedings generally taking around five years, according to Mann.

      Human rights advocates and lawyers worry that by the time the current legal challenges are concluded, the situation in the Mediterranean will again have evolved. Already, since the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic, states such as Malta and Greece have shifted from empowering third countries to intercept people at sea to carrying out pushbacks directly.

      “What is happening now, particularly in the Aegean, is much more alarming than the facts that generated the Hirsi case in terms of the violence of the actual pushbacks,” Mann said.

      Human rights lawyers are already planning to begin issuing challenges to the new practices. As they do, they are acutely aware of the limitations of the tools available to them. Or, as Azarova put it: “We’re dealing with symptoms. We’re not addressing the pathology.”

      https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/analysis/2020/08/10/Libya-migrant-abuses-EU-legal-battle

      #justice

  • Dans l’est de la #Turquie, le trajet tragique des migrants afghans

    Fuyant les talibans, de nombreuses familles partent trouver refuge en Europe. En chemin, elles sont souvent bloquées dans les #montagnes kurdes, où elles sont à la merci des #trafiquants d’êtres humains et de la #police.

    Le dos voûté sous leurs lourds sacs à dos, la peau brûlée par le soleil et les lèvres craquelées par la soif, Nizamuddin et Zabihulah sont à bout de forces. Se traînant pesamment en bord de route, près de la petite ville de #Çaldiran dans l’extrême est de la Turquie, ils cherchent désespérément un moyen d’abréger leur trajet. « Nous marchons presque sans arrêt depuis deux jours et deux nuits. Nous avons franchi sept ou huit montagnes pour arriver ici depuis l’Iran », raconte le premier. Affamés, les pieds enflés, et dépités par le refus généralisé de les conduire vers la grande ville de #Van à une centaine de kilomètres de là, ils finissent par se laisser tomber au sol, sous un arbre.

    « J’ai quitté l’#Afghanistan il y a huit mois parce que les talibans voulaient me recruter. C’était une question de temps avant qu’ils m’emmènent de force », explique Zabihulah. Originaire de la province de Jozjan, dans le nord de l’Afghanistan, où vivent sa femme et son très jeune fils, son quotidien était rythmé par les menaces de la rébellion afghane et la misère économique dans laquelle est plongé le pays en guerre depuis plus de quarante ans. « Je suis d’abord allé en Iran pour travailler. C’était épuisant et le patron ne m’a pas payé », relate-t-il. Ereinté par les conditions de vie, le jeune homme au visage fin mais marqué par le dur labeur a décidé de tenter sa chance en Turquie. « C’est ma deuxième tentative, précise-t-il. L’an dernier, la police iranienne m’a attrapé, m’a tabassé et tout volé. J’ai été renvoyé en Afghanistan. Cette fois, je vais rester en Turquie travailler un peu, puis j’irai en Grèce. »

    Pierres tombales

    Comme Nizamuddin et Zabihulah, des dizaines de milliers de réfugiés afghans (mais aussi iraniens, pakistanais et bangladais) pénètrent en Turquie illégalement chaque année, en quête d’un emploi, d’une vie plus stable et surtout de sécurité. En 2019, les autorités turques disent avoir appréhendé 201 437 Afghans en situation irrégulière. Deux fois plus que l’année précédente et quatre fois plus qu’en 2017. Pour la majorité d’entre eux, la province de Van est la porte d’entrée vers l’Anatolie et ensuite la Grèce. Cette région reculée est aussi la première muraille de la « forteresse Europe ».

    Si le désastre humanitaire en mer Méditerranée est largement documenté, la tragédie qui se déroule dans les montagnes kurdes des confins de la Turquie et de l’#Iran est plus méconnue mais tout aussi inhumaine. Régulièrement, des corps sont retrouvés congelés, à moitié dévorés par les animaux sauvages, écrasés aux bas de falaises, criblés de balles voire noyés dans des cours d’eau. Dans un des cimetières municipaux de Van, un carré comptant plus d’une centaine de tombes est réservé aux dépouilles des migrants que les autorités n’ont pas pu identifier. Sur les pierres tombales, quelques chiffres, lettres et parfois une nationalité. Ce sont les seuls éléments, avec des prélèvements d’ADN, qui permettront peut-être un jour d’identifier les défunts. Un large espace est prévu pour les futures tombes, dont certaines sont déjà creusées en attente de cercueils.

    Pour beaucoup de réfugiés, la gare routière de Van est le terminus du voyage. « Le passeur nous a abandonnés ici, nous ne savons pas où aller ni quoi faire », raconte Nejibulah, le téléphone vissé à la main dans l’espoir de pouvoir trouver une porte de sortie à ses mésaventures. A 34 ans, il a quitté Hérat, dans l’ouest de l’Afghanistan, avec douze membres de sa famille dont ses trois enfants. Après quinze jours passés dans des conditions déplorables dans les montagnes, la famille a finalement atteint le premier village turc pour tomber entre les mains de bandits locaux. « Ils nous ont battus et nous ont menacés de nous prendre nos organes si nous ne leur donnions pas d’argent », raconte Nejibulah. Son beau-frère exhibe deux profondes blessures ouvertes sur sa jambe. Leurs proches ont pu rassembler un peu d’argent pour payer leur libération : 13 000 lires turques (1 660 euros) en plus des milliers de dollars déjà payés aux passeurs. Ces derniers sont venus les récupérer pour les abandonner sans argent à la gare routière.
    Impasse

    La police vient régulièrement à la gare arrêter les nouveaux arrivants pour les emmener dans l’un des deux camps de rétention pour migrants de la province. Là-bas, les autorités évaluent leurs demandes de protection internationale. « Sur le papier, la Turquie est au niveau des standards internationaux dans la gestion des migrants. Le problème, c’est le manque de sensibilité aux droits de l’homme des officiers de protection », explique Mahmut Kaçan, avocat et membre de la commission sur les migrations du barreau de Van. Le résultat, selon lui, c’est une politique de déportation quasi systématique. Si les familles obtiennent en général facilement l’asile, les hommes seuls n’auraient presque aucune chance, voire ne pourraient même pas plaider leur cas.

    Pour ceux qui obtiennent le droit de rester, les conditions de vie n’en restent pas moins très difficiles. Le gouvernement qui doit gérer plus de 4 millions de réfugiés, dont 3,6 millions de Syriens, leur interdit l’accès aux grandes villes de l’ouest du pays telles Istanbul, Ankara et Izmir. Il faut parfois des mois pour obtenir un permis de séjour. L’obtention du permis de travail est quasiment impossible. En attendant, ils sont condamnés à la débrouille, au travail au noir et sous-payé et aux logements insalubres.

    La famille Amiri, originaire de la province de Takhar dans le nord de l’Afghanistan, est arrivée à Van en 2018. « J’étais cuisinier dans un commissariat. Les talibans ont menacé de me tuer. Nous avons dû tout abandonner du jour au lendemain », raconte Shah Vali, le père, quadragénaire. Sa femme était enceinte de sept mois à leur arrivée en Turquie. Ils ont dormi dans la rue, puis sur des cartons pendant des semaines dans un logement vétuste qu’ils occupent toujours. La petite dernière est née prématurément. Elle est muette et partiellement paralysée. « L’hôpital nous dit qu’il faudrait faire des analyses de sang pour trouver un traitement, sans quoi elle restera comme ça toute sa vie », explique son père. Coût : 800 lires. La moitié seulement est remboursée par la sécurité sociale turque. « Nous n’avons pas les moyens », souffle sa mère Sabira. Les adultes, souffrant aussi d’afflictions, n’ont pas accès à la moindre couverture de santé. Shah Vali est pourtant d’humeur heureuse. Après deux ans de présence en Turquie, il a enfin trouvé un emploi. Au noir, bien sûr. Il travaille dans une usine d’œufs. Salaire : 1 200 lires. Le seuil de faim était estimé en janvier à 2 219 lires pour un foyer de quatre personnes. « Nous avons dû demander de l’argent à des voisins, de jeunes Afghans, eux-mêmes réfugiés », informe Shah Vali. Pour lui et sa famille, le voyage est terminé. « Nous voulions aller en Grèce, mais nous n’avons pas assez d’argent. »

    Lointaines, économiquement peu dynamiques, les provinces frontalières de l’Iran sont une impasse pour les réfugiés. Et ce d’autant que, depuis 2013, aucun réfugié afghan n’a pu bénéficier d’une réinstallation dans un pays tiers. « Sans espoir légal de pouvoir aller en Europe ou dans l’ouest du pays, les migrants prennent toujours plus de risques », souligne Mahmut Kaçan. Pour contourner les check-points routiers qui quadrillent cette région très militarisée, les traversées du lac de Van - un vaste lac de montagne aux humeurs très changeantes - se multiplient. Fin juin, un bateau a sombré corps et biens avec des dizaines de personnes à bord. A l’heure de l’écriture de cet article, 60 corps avaient été retrouvés. L’un des passeurs était apparemment un simple pêcheur.

    Climat d’#impunité

    Face à cette tragédie, le ministre de l’Intérieur turc, Suleyman Soylu, a fait le déplacement, annonçant des moyens renforcés pour lutter contre le phénomène. Mahmut Kaçan dénonce cependant des effets d’annonce et l’incurie des autorités. « Combien de temps un passeur res te-t-il en prison généralement ? Quelques mois au plus, s’agace-t-il. Les autorités sont focalisées sur la lutte contre les trafics liés au PKK [la guérilla kurde active depuis les années 80] et ferment les yeux sur le reste. » Selon lui, les réseaux de trafiquants se structureraient rapidement. Publicités et contacts de passeurs sont aisément trouvables sur les réseaux sociaux, notamment sur Instagram. Dans un climat d’impunité, les #passeurs corrompent des #gardes-frontières, qui eux-mêmes ne sont pas poursuivis en cas de bavures. « Le #trafic_d’être_humain est une industrie sans risque, par comparaison avec la drogue, et très profitable », explique l’avocat. Pendant ce temps, les exilés qui traversent les montagnes sont à la merci de toutes les #violences. Avec la guerre qui s’intensifie à nouveau en Afghanistan, le flot de réfugiés ne va pas se tarir. Les Afghans représentent le tiers des 11 500 migrants interceptés par l’agence européenne Frontex aux frontières sud-est de l’UE, entre janvier et mai.

    https://www.liberation.fr/planete/2020/07/20/dans-l-est-de-la-turquie-le-trajet-tragique-des-migrants-afghans_1794793
    #réfugiés #asile #migrations #parcours_migratoires #itinéraires_migratoires #réfugiés_afghans #Caldiran #Kurdistan #Kurdistan_turc #morts #décès #Iran #frontières #violence

    ping @isskein @karine4

    • Lake Van: An overlooked and deadly migration route to Turkey and Europe

      On the night of 27 June, at least 61 people died in a shipwreck on a lake in Van, a Turkish province bordering Iran. The victims were asylum seekers, mostly from Afghanistan, and the wreck shed light on a dangerous and often overlooked migration route used by people trying to move west from the border to major cities, such as Ankara and Istanbul, or further beyond to Europe.

      Turkey hosts the largest refugee population in the world, around four million people. A significant majority – 3.6 million – are Syrians. Afghans are the second largest group, but since 2018 they have been arriving irregularly in Turkey and then departing for Greece in larger numbers than any other nationality.

      Driven by worsening conflict in their country and an economic crisis in Iran, the number of Afghans apprehended for irregularly entering Turkey increased from 45,000 in 2017 to more than 200,000 in 2019. At the same time, the number of Afghans arriving in Greece by sea from Turkey increased from just over 3,400 to nearly 24,000.

      During that time, Turkey’s policies towards people fleeing conflict, especially Afghans, have hardened. As the number of Afghans crossing the border from Iran increased, Turkey cut back on protections and accelerated efforts to apprehend and deport those entering irregularly. In 2019, the Turkish government deported nearly 23,000 Afghans from the country, according to the UN’s emergency aid coordination body, OCHA.

      Early on, travel restrictions put in place due to the coronavirus appeared to reduce the number of people entering Turkey irregularly. But seven months on, the pandemic is worsening the problems that push people to migrate. The economic crisis in Iran has only intensified, and the head of the UN’s migration agency, IOM, in Afghanistan has warned that COVID-19-induced lockdowns have “amplified the effects of the conflict”.

      Like the victims of the wreck, most people travelling on the clandestine route through Van are from Afghanistan – others are mainly from Iran, Pakistan, and Bangladesh. The lake, 50 kilometres from the border, straddles two provinces – Van and Bitlis – and offers a way for asylum seekers and migrants to avoid police and gendarmerie checkpoints set up along roads heading west.

      Due to its 200-kilometre border with Iran, Van has long been a hub for smuggling sugar, tea, and petrol, according to Mahmut Kaçan, a lawyer with the Migration and Asylum Commission at the Van Bar Association. In recent years, a people smuggling industry has also grown up to cater to the needs of people crossing the border and trying to move deeper into Turkey. Lake Van – so large that locals simply call it ‘the sea’ – plays an important role.

      “There have been a lot of refugees on ‘the sea’ in the last 10 years,” Mustafa Abalı, the elected leader of Çitören, a village close to where many of the boats set out across the lake, told The New Humanitarian, adding that the numbers have increased in the past two to three years.
      ‘Policy of impunity’

      When the shipwreck happened, on 27 June, the picture that initially emerged was murky: Rumours circulated, but the local gendarmerie blocked lawyers and journalists from reaching the lake’s shore.

      After two days, the Van governorship announced that security forces had found a missing boat captain alive and launched a search mission. It took weeks, but search teams eventually recovered 56 bodies from the wreck, which had come to rest more than 100 metres below the lake’s surface.

      Abalı described the scene on the beach where the rescue teams were working. “I was crying; everyone was crying; even the soldiers were crying… We were all asking, ‘how could this happen?’” he said.

      The testimony the boat captain provided to police after he was detained on smuggling charges gave a few clues. On board with his cousin and 70 to 80 asylum seekers, he recalled how they left that night at around 9pm from Van city to cross the lake. He said he pushed out into the open water, with the lights off to avoid attention, but the waves were large and the boat capsized. The captain, the lone known survivor, said he managed to swim ashore.

      The shipwreck was the deadliest on Lake Van, but not the first. In December 2019, seven asylum seekers died in a wreck on the lake. After that incident, authorities only issued one arrest warrant, which expired after 27 days, and the suspected smuggler was released.

      Kaçan, from the Van Bar Association, said the handling of that case pointed to a “policy of impunity” that allows the smuggling industry to flourish in Van. “It’s not a risky job,” he said, referring to the chances of getting caught and the lack of punishment for those who are.

      That said, the case against the captain from the 27 June shipwreck is ongoing, and at least eight other people have now been detained in connection with the incident, according to Kaçan.

      A report from the Van Bar Association alleges that this impunity extends to the Iran-Turkey border, but according to Kaçan it‘s unlikely smugglers bringing people into Turkey – sometimes in groups of up to 100 or 200 people – would pass the frontier entirely undetected. Turkey is building a wall along much of it, and there’s a heavy military and surveillance presence in the area. “Maybe not all of them, but some of the officers are cooperating with the smugglers,” Kaçan said. “Maybe [the smugglers] bribe them. That’s a possibility.”

      After a lull during the initial round of pandemic-related travel restrictions in March and April, migration across the Iran-Turkey border began to pick up again in May, according to people TNH spoke to in Van. Smugglers are even advertising their services on Instagram – a sign of the relative freedom with which they operate.

      TNH contacted a Turkish-speaking Iranian smuggler through the social media platform. The smuggler said he was based in the western Iranian city of Urmia, about 40 kilometres from the Turkish border, and gave his name as Haji Qudrat. On a video call, Haji Qudrat counted money as he spoke. “Everyone knows us,” he said. “There’s no problem with the police.” He turned the phone to show a room full of 20 to 30 people. “They’re all Afghans. Tonight they’re all going to Van,” he added.

      TNH asked both the Turkish interior ministry and the Van governorship for comment on the allegations of official cooperation with people smugglers and possible bribery, but neither had responded by the time of publication.
      A cemetery on a hill

      While crossing into Turkey from Iran doesn’t seem too problematic, the situation for asylum seekers in Van is not so relaxed.

      The region is the second poorest of Turkey’s 81 provinces – many people who enter irregularly want to head west to Turkey’s comparatively wealthier cities to search for informal employment, reunite with family members, or try to cross into Greece and seek protection in Europe, according to a recent report by the Mixed Migration Centre.

      Under Turkey’s system for international protection, non-Europeans fleeing war or persecution are supposed to get a temporary residency permit and access to certain services, such as medical care. But they are also registered to a particular city or town and are required to check in at the immigration office once a week. If they want to travel outside the province where they are registered, people with international protection have to first apply for permission from authorities. Even if it is granted, they are required to return within 30 days.

      Since the uptick in border crossings in 2018, it has become more difficult for Afghans to access international protection in Turkey, and Turkish authorities have occasionally apprehended and deported large numbers of Afghans – especially single men – without allowing them to apply for protection in the first place.

      As a result, many prefer to avoid contact with Turkish authorities altogether, using smugglers to carry on their journeys. In September, news channels aired footage of a minibus that had been stopped in the province. It had the capacity to hold 14 passengers, but there were 65 people inside, trying to head west.

      Buses carrying asylum seekers on Van’s windy, mountainous roads frequently crash, and every spring, when the snow melts, villagers find the corpses of those who tried to walk the mountain pass in the winter. Their bodies are buried in a cemetery with the scores who have drowned in Lake Van.

      The cemetery is on a hill in Van, the city, and it is full of the graves of asylum seekers who died somewhere along the way. The graves are marked by slabs, and most of the people are unidentified. Some of the slabs simply read “Afghan” or “Pakistan”. Others are only marked with the date the person died or their body was found. The cemetery currently has around 200 graves, but it has space for many more.

      https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news-feature/2020/10/20/turkey-afghanistan-migrants-refugees-asylum

      –----


      http://www.vanbarosu.org.tr/uploads/2694.pdf
      #rapport

      #Van #lac #Lac_Van #cimetière

  • Sudanese refugees in Niger protest, demand relocation

    December 17, 2019 (KHARTOUM) - Sudanese refugees in Niger have staged a sit-in outside the UNHCR office #Agadez town in central Niger to protest their tough conditions and to demand their relocation from the Sahel country.

    For years Agadez on the edge of the Sahara, has been a key stop for refugees and travellers mostly young men in search of better opportunities abroad heading north Africa countries and Europe.

    In a report released in May 2019, the UNHCR estimated that 1,584 persons, mostly Sudanese, are currently registered by UNHCR in Agadez. 23.8% are minors and 126 are unaccompanied or separated children.

    Rights activists from Agadez told Sudan Tribune that all the Sudanese refugees in the refugees camp 15 km outside Agadez decided to leave their camps and to stage a sit-in at the UNHCR office in the area on Monday, December 16, 2019.

    Since Monday, the refugees say resolved to continue their peaceful protest until the UN refugees agency settle their situation.

    Some of the refugees say they can even accept a return to their areas of origin in Darfur but they would not regain the camp.

    Activists pointed out to their poor living conditions and lack of basic health service and education for the children of the refugees who are in the camp since 2017.

    “There is an increase of chronic and serious diseases, there is racism, corruption, and discrimination against Sudanese refugees and other nationalities from other countries and the delay in the legal procedures for asylum,” wrote in an email sent to the Sudan Tribune on Tuesday.

    Many of the Sudanese refugees fled Libya following the increase of attacks on refugees and foreigners by the various militias and armed gunmen who demand ransom for their release.

    https://www.sudantribune.com/spip.php?article68720
    #asile #migrations #réfugiés #Niger #réinstallation #manifestation #résistance #réfugiés_soudanais

    ping @isskein @pascaline @karine4

    • Niger : des migrants incendient un centre d’hébergement en signe de protestation

      Des demandeurs d’asile de retour de Libye ont incendié leur centre d’hébergement près d’#Agadez, où vivent un millier de personnes dans l’attente de la délivrance d’une carte de réfugiés.

      Amenés de force après un #sit-in de #protestation de plusieurs jours devant les locaux du Haut-Commissariat des Nations unies pour les refugiés (HCR) d’Agadez, des demandeurs d’asile ont mis le feu à leur #centre_d’hébergement, un camp situé à 15 km d’Agadez et où vivent un millier de personnes dans l’attente d’une éventuelle #carte_de_réfugiés.

      « 80% du #centre_d'accueil détruit par une minorité de réfugiés du Darfour à Agadez qui ne veulent entendre parler que de #réinstallation en Europe. Détruire l’espace d’asile au Niger ou ailleurs est plus facile que de le construire et de le protéger. C’est un triste jour pour la protection des réfugiés au Niger », écrit sur son compte Twitter Vincent Cochetel, envoyé spécial du HCR pour la situation en Méditerranée centrale.


      https://twitter.com/cochetel/status/1213519641563320322?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E12
      http://www.rfi.fr/afrique/20200104-niger-migrants-incendie-camp-hebergement-agadez

      Selon plusieurs sources, les demandeurs d’asile exigent, entre autres, un statut de réfugiés avec délivrance immédiate de leur carte, des soins de qualité et une meilleure collaboration avec le HCR et les autres partenaires humanitaires.

      Le gouverneur d’Agadez estime que les migrants ont posé de « faux problèmes ». Le centre dispose d’eau, de nourriture, d’un médecin. Toujours selon le gouverneur, plus de 160 cartes de réfugiés ont récemment été délivrées. « Le processus de détermination est très avancé », indique le #HCR. D’autres cartes seront bientôt distribuées par les autorités nigériennes, apprend-on.

      Après l’#incendie de ce camp, le gouverneur de la région a dénoncé « l’ingratitude des réfugiés ». Une enquête est en cours pour déterminer l’ampleur des dégâts. Les auteurs de cet acte seront poursuivis. Malgré cet incident, précise une source du HCR, plusieurs centaines de réfugiés à la merci de l’harmattan seront relogés. Il a fait cinq degrés à Agadez ce samedi.

      http://www.rfi.fr/afrique/20200104-niger-migrants-incendie-camp-hebergement-agadez
      #feu

    • Commentaire de #Sophia_Bisio sur FB :

      Non, Monsieur Cochetel, un camp qui brûle n’est pas un jour triste plus triste que les autres pour la protection des réfugiés.

      Comme tout système de camp où l’on trie et isole les indésirables, le camp HCR d’Agadez était une prison à ciel ouvert pour le millier de réfugié.e.s soudanais.es qui y vivaient, ou plutôt y survivaient.

      Car ces camps ne sont pas des lieux de vie mais bien des lieux de survie.

      Lorsque j’avais visité ce camp en décembre 2018, plusieurs centaines de personnes y survivaient péniblement, après avoir fui la guerre dans leur pays et le chaos libyen pour la plupart d’entre elles. Installé en plein désert, isolé de tout, à 15 km de la ville, le camp était exposé au vent et aux tempêtes de sable, déclenchant chez de nombreuses personnes des troubles respiratoires. Les conditions sanitaires étaient épouvantables. Des familles entières s’entassaient sous des tentes en plastiques inadaptées au climat désertique, dans lesquelles, l’été, la température pouvait atteindre 70 degrés. Pas d’eau courante. Pas de travail. Pas d’école pour les enfants. Pas de perspectives d’avenir.

      Déjà en 2018, des résidents du camp se joignaient aux manifestations devant les bureaux du HCR dans la ville d’Agadez pour protester contre leurs conditions de vie et la lenteur de la procédure de réinstallation. En décembre 2019, après un an de plus d’attente dans la poussière du désert, ce sont plusieurs centaines de résident.e.s du camp qui se sont rassemblés pour une grande marche jusqu’au centre-ville afin d’organiser à nouveau un sit-in devant les bureaux du HCR, avant d’être une fois de plus renvoyé.e.s à la poussière.

      Hier, le camp brûlait, incendié, selon la version relayée par le HCR, par une minorité énervée de Soudanais du Darfour. Représentant spécial du Haut Commissariat aux réfugiés pour la Méditerranée centrale, Monsieur Cochetel s’indignait alors contre ces personnes qui « détruisent l’espace d’asile », ajoutant : « c’est un triste jour pour la protection des réfugiés au Niger ».

      Non, Monsieur Cochetel, un camp qui brûle n’est pas un jour triste plus triste que les autres pour la protection des réfugiés.

      C’est un signal.

      Le signal que ces hommes et ces femmes qu’on tente d’invisibiliser et de réduire au silence peuvent encore se rendre visibles.

      Le signal que ces politiques migratoires, par lesquelles l’humanitaire tend à devenir le cheval Troie des pires politiques sécuritaires, doivent être dénoncées et combattues avec celles et ceux qui les subissent.

      https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2538844326358556&set=a.1562653620644303&type=3&theater
      #Vincent_Cochetel #Cochetel

    • More than a thousand asylum seekers take part in mass sit-in in Niger

      More than a thousand asylum seekers have been taking part in a mass sit-in in front of the offices of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in Agadez in northern Niger since December 16. They are protesting the terrible living conditions that they are forced to endure while waiting for the UNHCR to examine their cases, and are calling for better conditions and an acceleration to the entire process.

      A majority of the residents of the UN camp for asylum seekers in Agadez in northern Niger walked the 15 kilometres into town to take part in a protest on December 16.

      Nearly 1,600 asylum seekers are still waiting for refugee status. The large majority of them — more than 1,400 — are Sudanese. Others hail from the Central African Republic, Chad and Pakistan. Most of them arrived in 2017 and they blame both the UNHCR and Nigerien authorities for the extremely difficult conditions in the camp.

      https://observers.france24.com/en/20191224-niger-asylum-seekers-take-part-mass-sit-protest

    • Thread de Eric Reidy sur twitter, 05.01.2019

      Security forces forcefully dispersed a peaceful sit-in in front of #UNHCR's office in Agadez, Niger yesterday (Jan. 4). Many people were injured & 100s of people’s phones & belongings were confiscated.
      2/ Sudanese asylum seekers, many from Darfur, have staged a sit-in in front of the #UNHCR office in since Dec. 16 when they walked out en masse from a UNHCR administered camp 15km outside of #Agadez.
      3/ In a statement the asylum seekers said they had been completely neglected. Many suffered from psychological conditions & chronic diseases worsened by the harsh desert environment & that treatment by UNHCR staff & the handling of their asylum claims led to a total loss of trust

      4/ The Sudanese asylum seekers started arriving in Agadez in late 2017, seeking safe-haven from war & exploitation in #Libya. The population peeked at around 2,000. Tensions arose w the host population & the Nigerien gov viewed the Sudanese w suspicion & as a security threat.

      5/ In May 2018, the Nigerien gov deported 135 ppl back to Libya in violation of int law. UNHCR lobbied hard to prevent any further deportations & reached an agreement w authorities in #Niger to establish the camp outside of Agadez to reduce tensions

      https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/special-report/2018/07/05/destination-europe-deportation

      6/ At some point, the relationship between the asylum seekers & UNHCR appears to have broken down leading to the recent protests, which have now ended with security forces using violence & the camp outside of #Agadez being burned down.

      7/ I’m still piecing everything together, but it’s important to keep in mind that this is a vulnerable population. Many have been displaced multiple times & experienced violence & tragedy in the past. They have been seeking safety for yrs & still haven’t found it. (Will update)

      https://twitter.com/Eric_Reidy/status/1213802520490831872

    • Niger breaks up Sudanese refugees sit-in as fire destroys their camp
      https://www.sudantribune.com/local/cache-vignettes/L500xH282/agadez_camp_destroyed_by_sudanese_from_darfur_on_4_january_2020_tadres…jpg

      Niger’s authorities forcibly broke up a sit-in of Sudanese refugees outside UNHCR office in the arid area of Agadez, while some of them reportedly set ablaze the camp once returned by the police.

      Hundreds of Sudanese refugees in Niger had staged a sit-in outside the office of the UN agency for refugees in Agadez on 16 December to protest the bad conditions in the camp. Also, they blamed the UNHCR officials for neglecting them pointing to the long delay in the processing of asylum requests.

      For their part, the international officials asked the refugees to end the protest and return to their camps first before to deal with their demands. However, the Sudanese who had fled the insecurity in Libya refused to regain the camp.

      On Saturday morning, local officials and police and security officers surrounded the sit-inners and asked them to take the vehicles they brought with them to return to their camp 15 km from Agadez.

      Refugees who requested anonymity told Sudan Tribune that the security forces beat the refugees and shoved them to the vehicles when they refused the orders to evacuate the site.

      Photos and videos of the raid showed protesters severely injured on the head and legs.

      Aid workers in the area said the local authorities three days ago had informed the UNHRC of their plan to disperse the sit-in.

      Tragic development

      Once the authority forcibly moved the first batch of protesters back to the camp, a huge fire tore through the refugee camp and reduced it to ashes.

      When asked about the authors of the blaze some refugees said “irresponsible” refugees were desperate and set fire on the camp to protest the forced return to the camp.

      The tents were highly flammable, aid workers said.

      For his part, Vincent Cochetel, UNHCR Special Envoy for the Central Mediterranean Situation, said in a tweet on Saturday that the Sudanese refugees destroyed the camp because they demand to be resettled in Europe.

      “80% of the reception centre destroyed by a minority of refugees from Darfur in Agadez who only want to hear about resettlement to Europe,” said Cochetel.

      “Destroying the asylum space in Niger or elsewhere is easier than building and protecting it. It is a sad day for refugee protection in Niger,” he added.

      The authorities arrested many refugees while others fled in the desert and their whereabouts are unknown.

      Also, it is not clear what the Nigerien authorities will do for the over 200 refugees who were waiting outside the UNHCR office to be transported to the camp.

      Refugees say they fear that they would be transported to Madama on the border between Niger and Libya.

      On 7 May 2018, Nigerien police deported 135 Sudanese refugees to Madama and expelled to Libya as they had already protested the bad conditions in Agadez camp. The move had been denounced by critics as a violation of international law.

      https://www.sudantribune.com/spip.php?article68808

    • Niger: Sudan refugee sit-in violently dispersed

      Niger security forces broke up the sit-in set up by Sudanese refugees in front of the offices of the United Nations Refugee Agency (UNHCR) in Agadez on Saturday, reportedly using excessive violence.

      Speaking to Radio Dabanga from Agadez, a refugee reported that 453 refugees were detained. 230 refugees suffered various injuries. Army officers and policemen stole 670 mobile phones from them.

      Their camp reportedly burned down completely. Hundreds of refugees, among them children, women, disabled, and seniors, spent Sunday night in the arid desert in the freezing cold. There are shortages of water, food, and medicines.

      The refugees called on the international community to intervene urgently and save them from the conditions in which they live. They also demand their resettlement procedures be completed.

      Three weeks ago, thousands of refugees left the refugee camp in Agadez in protest against the failure to complete their resettlement procedures and the deteriorating conditions in the camp.

      The Sudanese refugees in Niger have been a topic in the peace talks in Juba during the past weeks.

      Last year, Niger’s authorities sent Sudanese refugees back to Libya, the country they fled from to Niger.

      https://www.dabangasudan.org/en/all-news/article/niger-sudan-refugee-sit-in-violently-dispersed

    • Agadez/Incendie #centre_humanitaire : 335 demandeurs d’asile interpellés

      Après l’incendie du centre d’hébergement survenu hier matin et attribué à un groupe de demandeurs d’asile, M.Seini, Procureur de la République près le tribunal de grande instance d’Agadez a tenu un point de presse auquel la presse privée n’était pas conviée.

      Dans le souci d’informer nos lecteurs, nous vous livrons son contenu.

       » le 16 décembre 2019, plusieurs dizaines de demandeurs d’asile ont entrepris une marche de protestation qui les a conduit devant le bureau local du HCR Agadez. Ils avaient décidé d’occuper illégalement les espaces publics aux abords dudit bureau et maintenu un sit-in qui a perduré jusqu’au 4 janvier 2020.
      Vu qu’ils occupaient ces espaces en violation de la loi, la question a été inscrite au menu de la réunion du conseil de sécurité régional du 2 janvier 2020. Au cours de cette réunion, il a été décidé de faire respecter la loi notamment de les faire déguerpir. Et au besoin de les ramener sur leur site d’hébergement. C’est ainsi que le 4 janvier 2020, les autorités régionales et municipales se sont déplacées sur les lieux accompagnées des forces de sécurité. Après sommation donnée par le maire, les agents de sécurité ayant constaté que ces gens n’ont pas obtempéré, ont alors intervenu pour les embarquer et ramener sur leur site d’hébergement. Une fois là-bas, dès qu’ils étaient descendus des bus et camions qui les transportaient, ils ont mis le feu au centre et en même temps s’en sont pris aux forces de l’ordre en leur jetant des projectiles. Il ressort des constatations faites par les services que sur les 331 habitations qu’ils appellent RHU, 290 sont complétement calcinées. Ainsi que l’infirmerie. Des pare-brises de bus ont été cassés et deux personnes légèrement blessées. 162 téléphones portables, 31 couteaux et 12 barres de fer ont été pris sur les manifestants. Parmi eux, 335 identifiés comme meneurs de l’incendie ont été interpellés et mis à la disposition des enquêteurs de la police.
      Voyez-vous ! Ces gens qui sont sensés être là pour avoir la protection se comportent ainsi jusqu’à commetre des infractions graves à la loi pénale notamment attroupement non armé sur la voie publique, la rébellion, la destruction volontaire des biens meubles et immeubles, publics, et l’incendie volontaire de lieu servant d’habitation.
      Donc, malgré leur nombre très élevé, et au vu de la gravité des faits qui leur sont reprochés, nous avons décidé de les poursuivre pour qu’ils répondent de leurs actes. Compte tenu du fait qu’ils sont des étrangers, des avis de poursuite seront notifiées aux autorités compétentes ».

      A Agadez, beaucoup de gens s’inquiètent du sort de centaines d’autres demandeurs d’asile qui n’ont plus de toit et parmi eux des femmes et des enfants.

      Pour Athan, un de ces demandeurs d’asile : » le Haut Commissariat aux Réfugiés (HCR) d’Agadez est l’unique responsable de ce qui nous arrive à Agadez ».

      La visite prévue demain mardi 7 janvier 2020 à Agadez de Mme Alexandra Morelli, représentante du HCR au Niger apportera t-elle une solution à ce problème ? Attendons de voir.


      https://airinfoagadez.com/2020/01/07/agadez-incendie-centre-humanitaire-335-demandeurs-dasile-interpelles

    • Demandeurs d’asile soudanais à Agadez : La grande désillusion

      L’installation d’une antenne du Haut Commissariat pour les Réfugiés à Agadez en Mai 2016 a contribué fortement à l’afflux de demandeurs d’asile de plusieurs nationalités. La majorité d’entre eux, après avoir fui leur pays en guerre, cas du Darfour au Soudan, se sont retrouvés piégés dans l’imbroglio libyen. C’est ainsi que près de 3000 soudanais ont cherché refuge à Agadez, une ville du nord Niger.
      Sur place, l’espoir d’une vie meilleure s’est peu à peu transformé en un véritable cauchemar. D’aucuns parmi ces prétendants à l’asile, las d’attendre, posent des actes désespérés sous forme des signaux.
      Le 14 avril dernier, un jeune soudanais a tenté de mettre fin à ses jours en se tailladant le cou. D’autres s’attaquent aux biens d’autrui pour se nourrir. Des actes contraires à la loi et au bon sens. Pourquoi et comment en est-on arrivé à ce stade ?
      APAC–Niger a mené l’enquête sur un drame que tente vaille que vaille de minimiser à l’opinion et les autorités en charge de la question et les ONG concernées.

      ----------------

      Depuis la dégradation de la situation sécuritaire en Libye les ressortissants soudanais ont connu des difficultés à mener une vie tranquille, ils ont alors choisi d’immigrer vers le Niger. « Notons que la première grande vague est arrivée à Agadez en 2017. Tous ces migrants ont transité par la frontière du sud libyen, Sebha et Mourzouk en passant par Madama et Dirkou à la frontière avec le Niger », selon M. Soukeyrajou Yacouba, responsable à la Direction régionale d’état civil.
      Dès leur arrivée à Agadez ils ont été pris en charge par l’Organisation Internationale pour la Migration (OIM) et le Haut Commissariat pour les Réfugiés (HCR) appuyés par des ONG comme l’APBE (Action pour le Bien-être) et COOPI une ONG Italienne.
      Après l’enregistrement et l’enrôlement biométrique, dénommé BIMS, les migrants qui le désirent font une demande d’asile au niveau de la Direction de l’état-civil. « L’asile est octroyé par l’état du Niger seul habilité à le faire car le Niger reste souverain sur cette question, les migrants ayant fui la guerre pour des raisons sécuritaires sont priorisés par rapport à ceux qui ont fui pour des raisons économiques, d’autre part les mineurs non accompagnés très vulnérables bénéficient d’un traitement particulier vu leur situation, on trouve très souvent des cas de tortures sur les migrants venant de la Libye », a expliqué à APAC M. Soukeyrajou Yacouba. « C’est un long processus qui demande de la patience », explique un commis du service de l’état-civil. Une patience que n’ont plus aujourd’hui les Soudanais présents à Agadez.

      Déception et désolation au quotidien

      Malgré tous les efforts des ONG pour leur venir en aide, leurs cris de détresse s’amplifient. Ils crient leur ras-le-bol à qui veut les écouter. Dans le camp ou dans les rues d’Agadez. Ils ne s’en cachent point. « Si j’avais su que je me retrouverai dans une telle situation à Agadez, j’aurais préféré rester d’où je viens. Au moins là bas, j’étais dans une communauté humaine, j’avais le moral. A Agadez, nous sommes loin de la ville. Comme si nous sommes des animaux. Nous sommes abandonnés à nous-mêmes ici. On n’a pas accès aux soins les plus élémentaires. On n’a pas une ambulance qui peut rapidement évacuer un malade vers la ville. Chaque soir, nous sommes dans la hantise que Boko Haram nous attaque. », nous a confié Mahmoud H, un jeune soudanais de 22 ans.

      Venus d’abord par petits groupes à Agadez, le nombre de demandeurs d’asile soudanais n’a fait que croitre au fil de mois jusqu’à atteindre presque 3000 personnes. Toutes sont en quête de protection et d’un mieux-être au Niger après avoir fui la guerre au Darfour et les sévices en Libye. Mais hélas, pour beaucoup, c’est la grande désillusion : « nous avons quitté l’enfer libyen pour tomber dans l’enfer d’Agadez. Ici aussi nous sommes mal vus ! C’est la suspicion et la haine dans tous les regards », disent-ils.

      Assis à même le sol d’un des hangars du centre d’accueil pour les réfugiés inauguré en mars 2017, Aly, est démoralisé. Il ne parle pas. Il observe. Dans ses yeux, aucune lueur. Ni de joie, ni d’espoir. Il refuse de regarder ses “ cochambriers”.
      Il nous confie en aparté. “ Ma place n’est pas ici. Pas sous ce hangar. Pas avec ces gens-là. On se bagarre tous les temps. Je ne suis pas comme eux et personne ne veut me comprendre. J’ai un statut que je n’ai pas choisi et qui fait que bien qu’étant homme, ma place n’est pas avec les hommes”.

      L’aveu d’Aly est clair mais non encore avoué. Un de ceux avec qui il partage le hangar balance le secret d’Aly : “ C’est un pédé ! C’est haram ! On ne veut pas de lui sous le même toit que nous”, dit-il rageur. Comble de cynisme ! Summum de l’intolérance, il dit menaçant à notre adresse : “On ne mange pas avec lui ! Il est malade. C’est un fils de Sheitan ! ”.

      Comment se fait-il que Aly, bien qu’ayant un statut particulier soit mis avec des hommes qui n’ont aucun respect pour son choix de vie ? “ Où voulez-vous qu’il soit ? Avec les femmes ? ”, nous répond calmement un agent du centre. “ Est-ce qu’il a même avoué au HCR son statut ! Je ne crois pas ! », a fait remarquer l’agent.
      Joint par le reporter de APAC Niger, le service du HCR Agadez dit ceci : « nous n’avons pas eu de cas pareil ! »

      Assiatou, est elle aussi une jeune femme du Darfour. Sa vie est un drame grandeur nature. Elle a tout perdu au Soudan du sud. Parents et conjoint.
      En Libye, elle a souffert vingt-sept mois les affres de violences sexuelles. “Les hommes sont cruels. Le sexe, partout et toujours le sexe. Comment puis-je me protéger quand on ne te demande aucune permission avant d’abuser de ton propre corps ? Dites-moi comment dire non à un homme drogué et violent qui a le droit de vie et de mort sur toi ? Mon corps de femme m’a permis de survivre jusqu’à aujourd’hui mais au prix de maints viols et supplices. De 2012 à aujourd’hui, j’ai porté trois grossesses que je n’ai jamais désirées. Deux sont mortes en Libye et j’ai le dernier ici avec moi ! Ne me demandez pas qui en est le père, je vous jure que je l’ignore !”.
      Son statut de femme éprouvée et allaitante fait qu’elle est mieux traitée que les autres. « Elle a beaucoup besoin de soutien surtout moral », fait remarquer une volontaire humanitaire trouvée sur place.

      À Agadez, Aly et Assiatou ont trouvé plusieurs centaines d’autres demandeurs d’asile. Tout comme eux, ils ont fui dans la douleur. Le Soudan d’abord, et la Libye ensuite. Hélas, leur rêve de liberté, leur espoir d’un lendemain meilleur se meurt aujourd’hui à Agadez.
      Au contact de dures réalités, Aly et Assiatou ne croient plus aux organisations internationales d’Agadez. « Elles font de la discrimination entre nous et les Erythréens ! Ce n’est pas normal », a fait le jeune soudanais Aly.

      « Ces soudanais ne sont pas reconnaissants…. »

      Ces demandeurs d’asile ignorent-ils que depuis la fin d’année 2017, 1.450 réfugiés, dont 1.292 Soudanais, sont arrivés dans la cité du nord du Niger jusqu’à atteindre le chiffre record de 3000 aujourd’hui ? Bien-sûr que non ! Devant leur afflux, et prises au dépourvu, les organisations humanitaires présentes à Agadez ne savent plus où donner de la tête. « On ne peut que s’occuper des personnes considérées comme « les plus vulnérables ». C’est-à-dire les femmes, les enfants et les malades », explique un agent du HCR en poste à Agadez.

      Et pourtant de l’avis d’un agent de la Direction de l’Etat-civil, « Leur situation s’améliore de plus en plus. Tenez bien ! Au début, les hommes vivaient en pleine rue, juste en face de nos locaux, des fois sous 42° de chaleur. Ils n’avaient même pas accès aux toilettes et faisaient leurs besoins à l’air libre ou dans des parcelles vides. Mais aujourd’hui, ils mangent bien, dorment bien et se promènent sans problème dans la ville d’Agadez ».

      Mais bon nombre de soudanais joints par APAC réfutent ces dires. Ils soulignent « qu’ils manquent de tout : nourriture, soins de santé, espaces sanitaires adéquats et même qu’ils n’ont droit à aucune intimité ».
      « C’est un site temporaire », nous a répondu à ce sujet Davies Kameau, chef de bureau UNHCR Agadez. « Nous attendons que les soudanais soient d’abord reconnus comme demandeurs d’asile par le Niger », a t-il poursuivi.

      Pour beaucoup de ces soudanais, le droit à l’asile leur est refusé au Niger et : « ce n’est pas normal. C’est un déni de droit clair et simple ! On fait des faveurs aux autres mais pas nous ! », a dénoncé lui aussi Hadji, un soudanais trentenaire.

      Le statut de réfugié peine à leur être accordé

      « Vous n’êtes pas sans savoir qu’il n’y a pas encore eu de session de la Commission nationale d’éligibilité (CNE) pour le cas d’Agadez mais il y a eu une commission d’éligibilité délocalisée à Tahoua pour statuer sur le cas de demandes jugées urgentes. Six ont été accordées et une rejetée. (…). C’est vrai que les gens ont l’impression que ça traîne mais en vérité c’est le souci de bien faire qui fait que le processus prend du temps », affirme. Soukeyrajou Yacouba à APAC.

      D’après nos sources jusqu’à à cette date, le Niger refuse de se prononcer sur la finalité de ces demandes d’asile.
      Pourquoi alors ? Joint par le reporter de APAC, Lawali Oudou, acteur de la société civile d’Agadez a expliqué : « Cela fait plusieurs mois que les négociations concernant le statut à accorder aux soudanais peinent à aboutir. C’est parce que les autorités du Niger ont peur de prendre cette lourde responsabilité surtout au sujet d’Agadez, une région instable et qui a connu deux rébellions armées ».
      En effet, le prétexte de la sécurité explique le refus de l’Etat du Niger d’accorder le droit d’asile à ces soudanais. « Ils sont en lien avec des pays en guerre : la Libye, le Tchad, le Soudan. Ils sont arabophones, tout comme la majorité des terroristes. On a peur qu’ils installent des bases terroristes ici », a affirmé à notre confrère Le Point le député Mano Aghali. « Les populations d’Agadez commencent à manifester contre la présence de ces gens dans la ville d’Agadez. C’est pourquoi nous prions le HCR d’accélérer le processus pour trouver une solution », s’est alarmé quant à lui Rhissa Feltou, alors maire d’Agadez.
      Mansour B. un jeune nigérien qui habite non loin du centre pour les réfugiés fait partie de ceux qui ne veulent plus des soudanais à Agadez. Et il le dit sans ambages : « ces soudanais ne sont pas reconnaissants vis-à-vis du Niger ». Il explique qu’ : « ils doivent remercier le Niger car aucun pays ne peut accepter ce qu’ils font ici à Agadez. Ils draguent nos femmes et nos filles souvent devant nos yeux ; ils coupent nos arbres et partent vendre le bois au marché pour acheter de l’alcool et de la drogue. Trop, c’est trop ! ».

      Des griefs infondés selon les soudanais

      Pour les soudanais, tous ces griefs sont infondés. « Nous sommes des civils et non des militaires. Nous n’avons aucun contact avec des groupes mafieux. Les autorités et même les populations locales nous comparent à des rebelles soudanais, pas comme des réfugiés. Si nous étions des combattants, on allait rester au pays pour nous défendre mais pas fuir comme des lâches », explique Al-Hassan.
      En attendant que leur cas soit clair, les soudanais se rongent les ongles à une quinzaine de kilomètres d’Agadez. Des couacs surviennent des fois entre eux mais aussi avec les populations riveraines du centre.

      Jusqu’à quand cette situation peut-elle tenir ? Un vent nouveau souffle au Soudan avec le changement de régime survenu. Peut-il augurer un lendemain meilleur pour tous ces jeunes soudanais bloqués aujourd’hui à Agadez ? L’Europe leur ouvrira t-elle un jour les bras ? Seront-ils laissés à Agadez pour qu’au fil du temps ils puissent se fondre à la population ?
      Telles sont les questions qui taraudent les esprits à Agadez et auxquelles des réponses doivent être données.


      https://airinfoagadez.com/2019/08/29/demandeurs-dasile-soudanais-a-agadez-la-grande-desillusion

    • Refugees in Niger Protest Against Delay of Resettlement and Dire Conditions

      Almost 1000 people have protested in front of the office of the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) in Agadez, Niger, against the poor conditions in the UNHCR-run facility and the delay of resettlement procedures. The systemic isolation in the centre is considered a model for “outsourcing of the asylum system outside Europe”.

      Hundreds of people, among them many refugees from Sudan, marched 18 km from the humanitarian centre where they are accommodated to the UNHCR headquarters to submit a memorandum bearing their demands to expedite their resettlement procedures and denounce the deteriorating humanitarian conditions in the facility. The march turned into a sit-in and is part of on-going series of refugee protests in Niger since early 2019.

      According to one of the protesters the facility is located in the middle of the desert lacking “the simplest means of life” as well as adequate education. Chronic disease is spreading among the refugees, many of which are unaccompanied who have been waiting in the facility for over two years, he added.

      In 2017, UNHCR established an Emergency Transit Mechanism (ETM) in Niger for the evacuation of vulnerable people from Libya identified for resettlement to Europe and elsewhere. As of November 2019, 2,143 out of 2,913 of those evacuated by UNHCR have been resettled.

      An increasing number of self-evacuated refugees have also arrived in Agadez from Libya with the hope of being resettled. Niger agreed to the ETM under the condition that all refugees would be resettled in Europe. However, as stated in a MEDAM police brief, for the self-evacuees, resettlement becomes increasingly unlikely and they were moved to a refugee camp outside the capital, which hampers local integration and their economic autonomy.

      The network Alarm Phone Sahara commented. “This situation occurs in a context where European states are seeking to outsource the processing of cases of refugees, who have fled wars and persecution in countries like in East Africa, to countries far from the borders of Europe. The state of Niger is currently serving as a model for the outsourcing of the asylum system towards outside Europe, receiving considerable amounts of money from EU member states.”

      Since 2017, a total of 4,252 persons have been evacuated from Libya: 2,913 to Niger, 808 to Italy and 531 to through the Emergency Transit Centre to Romania.

      https://www.ecre.org/refugees-in-niger-protest-against-delay-of-resettlement-and-dire-conditions

    • Agadez/Incendie centre humanitaire : » Je me suis sentie trahie… », affirme #Alexandra_Morelli, représentante du HCR au Niger

      En visite ce matin à Agadez, Mme Alexandra Morelli, représentante du HCR au Niger a répondu aux questions de Aïr Info :

      Extrait :


       » Je suis ici à Agadez pour apporter toute ma solidarité aux autorités locales et pour gérer ensemble cette crise. Pour comprendre profondément la nature et s’assurer qu’on continue à s’assurer qu’on continue à protéger et à donner de l’assistance aux victimes même parmi les soudanais de cet acte de vandalisme qui n’a pas de commentaires. Après l’incendie du site humanitaire ma réaction est celle d’une femme, d’une mère qui a cru en ses enfants, qui a tout fait avec le gouvernement du Niger pour leur garantir un espace de paix et de protection. Je me suis sentie trahie. C’est la première émotion humaine que j’ai eue, une émotion de douleur. Mais aujourd’hui, nous mettons les émotions de côté et on travaille avec le pragmatisme et la lucidité guidés par la solidarité et la loi du Niger ».

      Interview réalisée par
      Anicet Karim

      https://airinfoagadez.com/2020/01/07/agadez-incendie-centre-humanitaire-je-me-suis-sentie-trahie-affirme-a

    • A protest dispersed, a camp burned: Asylum seekers in Agadez face an uncertain future

      ‘Nobody can believe this is happening… because there [are] children, there are women that are sleeping inside the camp.’

      Early in the morning on 4 January, security forces carrying long, wooden sticks arrived outside the office of the UN refugee agency (UNHCR) in the city of Agadez, Niger: 600 or more asylum seekers, mostly from Sudan, were gathered in the street in front of the office.

      Since mid-December, they had been staging a sit-in to protest what they said was UNHCR’s “complete neglect” of their living conditions and the slow processing and mishandling of their asylum cases.

      By the end of the day, security forces had dispersed the sit-in, dozens of demonstrators were allegedly injured, more than 330 were arrested, and the camp set up to house asylum seekers outside the city was almost entirely burned to the ground.

      The events were only the latest in the more than two-year saga of the Sudanese in Agadez – a story that has always been part of a bigger picture.

      The arrival of the Sudanese to the long-time migration hub in northern Niger, beginning in November 2017, followed on the heels of European policies aimed at curbing the movement of people from West Africa to Libya and onward to Italy, as well as the initiation of a programme by the EU and UNHCR – the Emergency Transit Mechanism (ETM) – to evacuate people from Libyan detention centres, bringing them to Niamey, Niger’s capital, to await resettlement to Europe.

      Against this backdrop, some Sudanese in Libya, facing violence, rampant abuse, exploitation, and even slavery, turned south to escape, spurred on by rumours of aid and safety in Niger, and the vague possibility of a legal way to reach Europe. But authorities in Niger, itself focal point of EU efforts to stem migration in recent years, were not enthusiastic about the arrival of the Sudanese and worried that the presence of UNHCR in Agadez was acting as a “pull factor”, attracting people to the city from Libya.

      UNHCR is in a complicated position in Niger, according to Johannes Claes, an independent consultant and migration researcher who has followed the situation in Agadez since 2017.

      The organisation has had to navigate between allaying government fears of a “pull factor” while providing protection and services to the Sudanese, running the ETM – the “human face” of the EU’s otherwise harsh migration policies – and responding to a growing number of refugees and Nigeriens displaced by conflicts along the country’s borders. “It hasn’t been easy for them to manage this,” Claes said. “That is quite obvious.”

      Underlying the entire situation is a global shortage of refugee resettlement spots. UNHCR projects that 1.4 million refugees are in need of resettlement this year out of a population of nearly 26 million refugees worldwide. Last year, around 63,000 refugees were resettled through UNHCR-facilitated programmes, down from a high of 126,000 in 2016.

      “UNHCR everywhere is just overwhelmed by the numbers because they are completely dependent on slots allocated in Europe and North America, and those are really very, very few,” said Jérôme Tubiana, an independent researcher focusing on conflict and refugees in Sudan and Niger.
      Global resonance, local grievance

      Caught between restrictive EU migration policies and the global lack of resettlement spots, UNHCR’s struggle to provide services, protection, and long-term stability to asylum seekers and refugees has not been limited to Niger.

      In the past year, asylum seekers and refugees have protested in front of UNHCR offices in Libya, Lebanon, and elsewhere, and African asylum seekers in particular, including many Sudanese from Darfur, have accused UNHCR of discrimination and neglect. “[The protest in Agadez] was part of… a global story of frustration and a feeling of being, really, not treated as victims of war or mass crimes,” Tubiana said.

      Despite the global resonance, the trigger for the protest in Agadez appears to have been a local incident that took on symbolic significance as it spun through the rumour mill of a population that was already angry about the slow pace at which their asylum cases were being heard and desperate for information about their futures.

      “The core of the problem is why the procedures are slow and why some people were informed… that their files had been lost,” a Sudanese asylum seeker in Agadez told TNH on 17 December, the day after around 600 people walked out of the camp where they were housed and set up the sit-in in front of the UNHCR office. “There is a complete lack of credibility… represented by the loss of the files,” the protesters said in a statement that circulated via text message.

      “We know that these people are fighters, soldiers, and they came here because now they expect to go to Europe.”

      UNHCR Niger confirmed that the government agency responsible for processing asylum requests had misplaced around five files several months earlier, but it said the files had been reconstituted and resubmitted for consideration. “From UNHCR’s side, we can strongly confirm that no registration files nor resettlement requests have been lost and that no one has to re-conduct interviews,” UNHCR Niger told TNH.

      But by the time news about the files spread, the Sudanese had already been growing frustrated, disillusioned, and distrustful for quite some time, and UNHCR’s reassurances fell on deaf ears.
      A shaky beginning

      From the beginning, the position of the Sudanese in Agadez has rested on shaky ground.

      Hundreds of thousands of West Africans, sharing a common language and cultural background with Nigeriens, have passed through the city en route to Libya over the years.

      The Sudanese were the first group of outsiders to turn south from Libya in search of protection, and Nigerien authorities didn’t trust their motives. “We know that these people are fighters, soldiers, and they came here because now they expect to go to Europe,” Niger’s minister of interior, Mohamed Bazoum, told TNH in 2018.

      But UNHCR has maintained that the Sudanese are not fighters. For the most part, they had been driven from their homes in Darfur by conflict and government-sponsored ethnic cleansing that began in the early 2000s. They had lived in camps for the displaced in Sudan or Chad before humanitarian funding ebbed or conflict followed them and they began criss-crossing the region in search of safety, stable living conditions, and better prospects for their futures. In the process, many had been tortured, trafficked, raped, or had witnessed and suffered various forms of violence.

      At the peak in 2018, there were nearly 2,000 Sudanese in Agadez, and tensions with the local community simmered as they filled up limited UNHCR housing in the city and spilled into the streets. At the beginning of May, authorities arrested more than 100 of the Sudanese, trucked them to the Niger-Libya border, dropped them in the desert, and told them to leave.

      The incident was a major violation of the international laws protecting asylum seekers, and in its aftermath, UNHCR, which had been caught off guard by the arrival of the Sudanese in the first place, scrambled to make sure it wouldn’t happen again and to carve out a space where the Sudanese and other asylum seekers would be safe.
      ‘It was a bit existential’

      The government and UNHCR settled on a plan to open the camp – which UNHCR calls a humanitarian centre – 15 kilometres outside Agadez to de-escalate tensions, and the government eventually agreed to start hearing asylum claims from the Sudanese and others. But a message had already been sent: the number of Sudanese coming to Agadez slowed to a trickle and several hundred ended up returning to Libya or headed elsewhere on their own.

      By last December, there were around 1,600 asylum seekers, mostly Sudanese, in Agadez, and 1,200 of them were housed at the humanitarian centre. According to UNHCR, 223 people had already received refugee status in Niger, and around 500 were set to have their cases heard in the coming months. Thirty-one of the most vulnerable had been transferred to Italy as part of a humanitarian corridor, and around 100 others were in line for refugee resettlement or other humanitarian programmes that would take them out of Niger.

      “It’s not a humane situation.”

      “It was slowly, slowly ongoing, but there was a process,” Alessandra Morelli, UNHCR’s head of office in Niger, told TNH. “Nothing was in the air or in… limbo.”

      “We managed to stabilise a little bit a large group of people that for years were going from one place to another in [search] of protection,” Morelli added. “I think that was the success.”

      But many of the Sudanese in Agadez saw the situation differently. The humanitarian centre was isolated and on the edge of the desert. In the summer, the weather was very hot and in the winter, very cold. There was little shade, and the insides of the tents boiled. Storms carrying billowing clouds of sand would blow out of the desert, blocking out visibility and blanketing everything in dust. Attempts to drill wells for water failed. “It’s not a humane situation,” one asylum seeker told TNH last April. “The way they treat us here they wouldn’t treat any person.”

      “We saw… very high rates of mental illness, numerous suicide attempts, women miscarrying on a regular basis or having very, very… low-weight babies; people were wandering off into the middle of the desert due to mental illness or desperation,” a former UNHCR staff member, who worked for the organisation on and off for six years and spent eight months in Agadez, told TNH on condition of anonymity. “It was a bit existential.”

      UNHCR partnered with organisations to provide psychological support and medical care to the asylum seekers. “[But] the level of service and the treatment that these people have been receiving… has been very low,” said Claes, the migration researcher. “It is very hard to service that camp. It is not an easy area to be operating, but it’s also not impossible,” he added.
      Protest and dispersal

      The low level of service, slow processing of asylum requests and lack of clear information about what was happening with people’s cases grated on the Sudanese.

      “This is not the first time that people are expressing themselves as unhappy,” Claes said. “This was obviously the worst that we’ve seen so far, but it was not entirely unexpected that this would at some point get out of hand.”

      When the sit-in began, UNHCR in Niger said the asylum seekers were pushing to be resettled to Europe. “Resettlement is a protection tool for the most vulnerable, not a right,” UNHCR Niger told TNH. “Most asylum seekers currently in Agadez are not among the most vulnerable refugees, and other more vulnerable cases will be privileged for resettlement.”

      The claim that the protest was only about resettlement prompted the former UNHCR employee to speak out. “They keep rolling out resettlement as this kind of strawman to distract from the fact that these people have been neglected,” the former employee said. “They’ve been neglected because they’re not a priority for anybody.”

      As the sit-in wore on, the governor of Agadez, Sadou Soloke, warned in a radio broadcast that the sit-in would be dispersed – forcibly if necessary – if the protesters did not return to the camp outside the city. “We can no longer stand by and watch them trample on our laws while they are being hosted by us,” the governor said of the asylum seekers.

      The protesters did not seek the required authorisation before the sit-in began and “rejected any proposal for a friendly settlement”, Agadez mayor Maman Boukari told TNH in writing. “In accordance with the provisions of the law, we ordered the police to move the refugees,” he said.

      “Nobody can believe this is happening… because there [are] children, there are women that are sleeping inside the camp.”

      But the asylum seekers at the sit-in had no intention of returning to the camp before their grievances were addressed. The way they saw things, going back to the camp would only mean more waiting and uncertainty. “We expect disaster at any time because we have lost trust in the government and employees of UNHCR,” one demonstrater told TNH via text message on 3 January, anticipating the dispersal.

      The following morning, security forces arrived with lorries and buses to take people back to the camp.
      Aftermath

      As the smoke settled from the fire at the humanitarian site, different versions of what transpired emerged.

      According to asylum seekers at the sit-in, security forces forced people into the vehicles, beating those who didn’t comply, and severely injuring many. Mayor Boukari told TNH that no force was used to disperse the demonstration and that there were no recorded cases of injury.

      Cell phone videos taken by asylum seekers show several instances of security forces hitting people with sticks or batons, and dragging them across the ground. Photos taken afterward show people with bloody wounds on their heads and bandaged limbs. But it is unclear from the videos and photos how widespread or severe the violence was, or what injuries people sustained.

      Despite the different versions of events, one thing is certain: once back at the camp, a confrontation broke out between security forces and some of the asylum seekers. It appears – from accounts given to TNH by the mayor, UNHCR, and at least three asylum seekers – that an unknown number of people, angry at the dispersal of the sit-in, then started a blaze and burned most of the camp to the ground. Other accounts, that seem less credible, suggest the government used teargas at the camp and started the fire.

      “The discussion of what Agadez will become is still on going with the government.”

      “[Security forces] beat them… too much. When they’re back [from the sit-in], they hate everything and destroy it,” said one asylum seeker, who didn’t participate in the protest but was in the camp during the fire. “This is [a] crazy idea. Nobody can accept [it]. Nobody can believe this is happening… because there [are] children, there are women that are sleeping inside the camp,” the asylum seeker added.

      Miraculously, no one was seriously injured in the fire.

      In its aftermath, 336 people were arrested for arson and planning the sit-in. As of 30 January, 196 were still being held in custody, of which 61 had been formally charged, according to UNHCR. Other Sudanese who are not currently in custody are also expected to receive judicial summons, UNHCR added.

      After several weeks, the government gave UNHCR permission to install temporary shelter for the people still staying at the camp – they had been sleeping outside in rough shelters they cobbled together or in communal buildings on the site that survived the fire.

      But the future of the effort to create a space to protect asylum seekers and refugees in Agadez is still uncertain. UNHCR is transferring some asylum seekers from Agadez to housing in Niamey and another UNHCR centre near the capital. “The discussion of what Agadez will become is still on going with the government,” Morelli said.

      In the meantime, the asylum seekers still don’t have any more certainty about their futures than they did before the protest started, and some have told TNH they feel even more vulnerable and disillusioned. UNHCR said the government will respect the status of people who have already been recognised as refugees and continue to review asylum claims from people who have submitted files.

      That process has already dragged on for more than two years, and ambiguity about why it is taking so long and where exactly it is heading was at the root of the protest to begin with. Following the dispersal, one Sudanese asylum seeker told TNH that he feared persecution by authorities in Niger and had returned to Libya with two of his friends. Others do not want to return to the violence and chaos of Libya and feel they have no option but to stay in Niger.

      “I’m still in UNHCR’s hands. What they tell me, I’m ready,” one asylum seeker told TNH. “People, they hate the situation… [but] there’s no other choice.”

      https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news-feature/2020/02/10/Sudanese-asylum-seekers-Niger-Agadez-protest-EU-migration-policy