• Calais, « impensé » du projet de loi « immigration »
    https://www.lemonde.fr/societe/article/2023/12/15/calais-impense-du-projet-de-loi-immigration_6205927_3224.html

    Calais, « impensé » du projet de loi « immigration »
    Par Julia Pascual (Calais (Pas-de-Calais), envoyée spéciale)
    Alors que le ministre de l’intérieur, Gérald Darmanin, se rend vendredi dans la ville frontière défendre sa politique migratoire, les associations humanitaires investies dans l’aide aux migrants jugent le projet de loi très éloigné de leur réalité. (...)
    Selon les estimations, ils seraient à ce jour environ 1 500 à Calais – originaires du Soudan, d’Afghanistan, d’Erythrée… – à vivoter dans des camps pourtant démantelés toutes les quarante-huit heures. C’est ici que le ministre de l’intérieur, Gérald Darmanin, devait se rendre, vendredi 15 décembre. Un déplacement symbolique dans cette ville frontière, alors que le projet de loi sur l’immigration a essuyé une motion de rejet à l’Assemblée nationale quatre jours plus tôt et qu’il doit être étudié en commission mixte paritaire à partir du 18 décembre. A Calais, M. Darmanin devait rencontrer la maire Les Républicains Natacha Bouchart et décorer des policiers et gendarmes « blessés durant des missions de lutte contre l’immigration irrégulière ».
    Le délit de séjour irrégulier ? « Ils ne vont pas arrêter 1 500 personnes, ce n’est pas une mesure organisable, estime cependant Amélie Moyart, de l’association d’aide aux migrants Utopia 56. Et puis les gens viennent de pays en guerre où on ne peut pas les renvoyer. » « Comme en période électorale, Calais est un endroit de théâtre, un piédestal pour draguer la droite et faire passer son projet de loi », accuse Juliette Delaplace, chargée de mission « personnes exilées » depuis plus de quatre ans à Calais pour le Secours catholique. Ils sont nombreux à penser que la loi Darmanin ne répond pas à leur problématique, parmi celles et ceux qui côtoient les personnes migrantes dans les campements de fortune de la Côte d’Opale. « Le texte parle beaucoup des étrangers délinquants mais ça ne nous concerne pas », considère Jeanne Bonnet, 25 ans, qui participe à un projet de maison d’hospitalité, La Margelle, ouverte il y a un an à Calais. Ce lieu peut accueillir, pendant un mois et demi maximum, neuf personnes « qui veulent réfléchir sur leur projet, se stabiliser en France ou demander l’asile par exemple ». Jeanne Bonnet est originaire d’un village de Vendée, Montaigu, qui, en 2016, lors du démantèlement de la « grande jungle » de Calais, a vu débarquer des Afghans. Ils ont depuis trouvé du travail et vivent à La Roche-sur-Yon. « Regardons déjà ce qui marche avant de voter une loi », dit-elle.
    Le démantèlement de 2016, Claire Millot, 74 ans, s’en souvient aussi. Elle était déjà investie auprès de l’association de distribution de repas Salam, dont elle est aujourd’hui secrétaire générale. « C’est la seule chose qui a marché parce que Bernard Cazeneuve [ministre de l’intérieur de l’époque] avait levé l’application du règlement Dublin pour que les gens demandent l’asile en France. Pendant plus de deux mois, on n’a plus vu personne sur les camps. »
    Le règlement européen de Dublin prévoit qu’un demandeur d’asile doit faire étudier sa situation dans le pays qui a enregistré ses empreintes, le plus souvent celui par lequel il est arrivé en Europe. Parmi les candidats au départ vers l’Angleterre, nombreux sont ceux qui fuient les conséquences de ce règlement. C’est le cas de Mohamada (qui n’a pas souhaité donner son nom, comme les personnes citées par leur prénom), un Soudanais de 23 ans qui a ses empreintes en Espagne, et qui ne peut donc pas demander l’asile en France ou en Allemagne. Cela fait deux semaines qu’il s’abrite dans un hangar désaffecté de Calais.
    A l’accueil de jour du Secours catholique de Calais, où 900 personnes viennent quotidiennement s’abriter, on aimerait aussi que les procédures de demande d’asile soient facilitées, alors que « cela prend plus d’un mois et demi avant de pouvoir enregistrer sa demande », déplore Juliette Delaplace. Sans compter que, pour le faire, les personnes doivent se rendre à Lille depuis les camps. Plusieurs recours en référé-liberté ont été déposés devant le tribunal administratif pour obliger la préfecture à améliorer ses délais. Wehbe Muhamad, 18 ans, est à l’origine de l’un d’eux. Lui a renoncé à l’Angleterre, mais il désespère de quitter la « jungle ». « Améliorer les conditions d’accueil, l’enregistrement des demandes d’asile, suspendre le règlement de Dublin, ce sont des impensés de la loi “immigration” », dénonce Juliette Delaplace.
    « Si je restais en France, je serais toute ma vie sans-abri », redoute Abdulhaman, un autre Soudanais de 23 ans, à Calais depuis trois mois déjà. Avant ça, il a été sous le périphérique parisien pendant trois semaines. « La situation est catastrophique. Et la seule bonne nouvelle du projet de loi, c’est l’interdiction de placer en rétention les mineurs », estime Juliette Witt, 27 ans, de l’association Project Play, qui propose des séances de jeu pour les enfants vivant dans des camps. « Ils sont souvent malades, montrent des signes d’épuisement, et sont très anxieux à propos des violences policières et des traversées », rapporte-t-elle.
    Jeudi 14 décembre, ils étaient nombreux à attendre devant les arrêts de bus de Grande-Synthe (Nord), pour gagner les plages autour de Boulogne-sur-Mer (Pas-de-Calais). La météo s’annonçait propice aux traversées. Depuis le début de l’année, environ 29 000 personnes ont rejoint le Royaume-Uni à bord d’embarcations pneumatiques, contre plus de 45 000 en 2022. Dans la nuit de jeudi à vendredi, une soixantaine de personnes ont été secourues alors que leur embarcation se dégonflait et que certaines se trouvaient à l’eau. L’une d’elles est décédée tandis qu’une autre a été transportée à l’hôpital de Calais, en urgence absolue. Par ailleurs, un Soudanais est mort d’un arrêt cardiaque lors d’un autre naufrage, la même nuit. Ceux qui échouent à franchir le pas de Calais devront regagner les campements, détrempés.
    Il est arrivé à plusieurs reprises à Olivier Carton, le maire centre gauche de la commune de Dannes, au sud de Boulogne-sur-Mer, de prêter une salle aux naufragés transis. Le temps d’une nuit, pour qu’ils se changent, se sèchent, se nourrissent. Les 1 300 habitants de sa commune ont voté à plus de 64 % pour Marine Le Pen au second tour de l’élection présidentielle, mais, le maire en est persuadé, « ce n’est pas parce qu’on vote une loi d’expulsion que les migrants ne vont pas traverser la mer ».« Si déjà on gagnait une benne à ordures et rien qu’un point d’eau, ça changerait tout » : Claire Millot a appris à avoir des attentes modestes. Autour de 1 000 personnes se trouveraient sur le principal camp de migrants, installé depuis plus de deux ans à Loon-Plage (Nord). Les gens utilisaient les bornes à incendie pour se servir en eau, mais la dernière a été coupée en novembre. C’est ce qui a poussé Pierre Lascoux, un bénévole de Salam de 62 ans, à entamer une grève de la faim, le 22 novembre. Il a déjà perdu plus de 9 kilos. « Manquer d’eau en France, vous imaginez ?, nous interpelle-t-il. En août 2022, un jeune est mort noyé en essayant de se laver dans le canal de Bourbourg [à proximité du campement]. »
    Le projet de loi « immigration » ? « C’est drainer l’opinion des Français, qui vivent de plus en plus dans la peur », dit M. Lascoux, qui s’est installé dans une chambre de la maison Sésame, à Herzeele (Nord), un lieu de vie citoyen, qui permet d’offrir quelques jours de répit aux personnes en transit vers le Royaume-Uni. Il y a ce jour-là dans la maison un grand monsieur soudanais, qui porte sur son dos son fils de 15 mois. « Je vais traverser », nous dit-il en descendant l’escalier de la maison, engoncé dans son manteau. Il part sous la pluie. Cela fait des mois qu’il erre en France. Une nuit de traversée, il a été séparé de sa femme et de leurs autres enfants. Eux sont déjà en Angleterre. Lui entend les rejoindre.

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#france#calais#loimigration#traversee#campement#traversee#manche#grandebretagne#sante#droit#asile#violence

  • When the Coast Guard Intercepts Unaccompanied Kids

    A Haitian boy arrived on Florida’s maritime border. His next five days detained at sea illuminate the crisis facing children traveling to the U.S. alone and the crews forced to send them back.

    Tcherry’s mother could see that her 10-year-old son was not being taken care of. When he appeared on their video calls, his clothes were dirty. She asked who in the house was washing his shirts, the white Nike T-shirt and the yellow one with a handprint that he wore in rotation. He said nobody was, but he had tried his best to wash them by hand in the tub. His hair, which was buzzed short when he lived with his grandmother in Haiti, had now grown long and matted. He had already been thin, but by January, after three months in the smuggler’s house, he was beginning to look gaunt. Tcherry told his mother that there was not enough food. He said he felt “empty inside.”

    More strangers, most of them Haitian like Tcherry, continued to arrive at the house in the Bahamas on their way to the United States. One day police officers came with guns, and Tcherry hid in a corner; they left when a man gave them money. The next time he and his mother talked, Tcherry lowered his bright, wide-set eyes and spoke to her in a quieter voice. “It was like he was hiding,” his mother, Stephania LaFortune, says. “He was scared.” Tcherry told her he didn’t want to spend another night on the thin mattress in the front room with scuffed pink walls. She assured him it would be over soon. A boat would take him to Florida, and then he would join her in Canada, where she was applying for asylum. LaFortune texted Tcherry photos of the city where she lived. The leaves had turned brown and fallen from the trees. Still, she was there, and that’s where Tcherry wanted to be. He waited another week, then two, then three.

    Tcherry didn’t laugh or play for months on end, until one day in February, when two sisters, both Haitian citizens, were delivered to the house. One was a 4-year-old named Beana. She wore a pink shirt and cried a lot. The other, Claire, was 8. She had a round face and a burn on her hand; she said that at the last house they’d stayed in, a girl threw hot oil on her. Claire did everything for her sister, helping her eat, bathe and use the bathroom. Like Tcherry, the girls were traveling to join their mother, who was working at a Michigan auto plant on a temporary legal status that did not allow her to bring her children from abroad. Their clothes were as dirty as his. Sometimes Tcherry and Claire watched videos on his phone. They talked about their mothers. “I am thinking about you,” Tcherry said in a message to his mother in early February. “It has been a long time.”

    Finally, nearly four months after Tcherry arrived at the house, one of the men in charge of the smuggling operation woke him and the two girls early in the morning. “He told us to get ready,” Tcherry recalls. With nothing but the clothes they wore, no breakfast or ID, they were loaded into a van and were dropped off at a trash-lined canal just outside Freeport, Bahamas. In the muck and garbage, more than 50 people stood waiting as a boat motored toward them. “Not a good boat,” Tcherry told me, “a raggedy boat.” But nobody complained. The 40-foot vessel tilted from the weight as people climbed aboard and pushed into the two dank cabins, sitting shoulder to shoulder or standing because there was no more space. Tcherry felt the boat speeding up, taking them out to sea.

    For almost 12 hours they traveled west, packed together in cabins that now smelled of vomit and urine. In the lower cabin, a baby was crying incessantly. A heavily pregnant woman offered up the last of her package of cookies to the child’s mother to help soothe the infant. Tcherry was thirsty and exhausted. Not far from him, he heard a woman say that the children’s parents must be wicked for sending them alone into the sea.

    The passengers had been promised they would reach U.S. shores hours earlier. People were starting to panic, sure that they were lost, when passengers sitting near the windows saw lights, at first flickering and then bright — the lights of cars and buildings. “That is Florida,” a young man said as the boat sped toward shore. Tcherry pulled on his sneakers. “If I make it,” he thought, “I will spend Christmas with my family.”

    But as quickly as the lights of Florida came into view, police lights burst upon them. A siren wailed. People screamed, a helicopter circled overhead and an officer on a sheriff’s boat pointed a long gun toward them. Uniformed men climbed on board, yelled orders and handed out life jackets. The group of 54 people was transferred to a small Coast Guard cutter. As the sun rose over Florida just beyond them, a man with a tattoo on his arm of a hand making the sign of the benediction began recording a video on his phone. “As you can see, we are in Miami,” he said. “As you can see, we are on a boat with a bunch of small children.” He intended to send the video to relatives waiting for him on land, and he urged them to contact lawyers. But his phone was confiscated, and the video was never sent.

    The Coast Guard frames its operations in the sea as lifesaving work: Crews rescue people from boats at risk of capsizing and pull them from the water. But the agency, which is an arm of the Department of Homeland Security, also operates as a maritime border patrol, its ships as floating holding facilities. Since the summer of 2021, the Coast Guard has detained more than 27,000 people, a number larger than in any similar period in nearly three decades. On a single day in January, the agency’s fleet of ships off the Florida coast collectively held more than 1,000 people. The public has no way of knowing what happens on board. Unlike at the U.S.-Mexico border, which is closely monitored by advocates, the courts and the press, immigration enforcement at sea takes place out of public view.

    The Coast Guard routinely denies journalists’ requests to witness immigration patrols, but in early March, I learned that several days earlier, a boat carrying dozens of Haitians had been stopped so close to land that they were first chased down by the Palm Beach County sheriff’s marine unit. Among them were three unaccompanied children: two young sisters and a 10-year-old boy. In the months afterward, I obtained a trove of internal Coast Guard documents, including emails and a database of the agency’s immigration interdictions, and I tracked down Tcherry, Claire and Beana and 18 people traveling with them. Many of them told me about the five days they spent detained on Coast Guard ships — an experience, one man said, “that will remain a scar in each person’s mind.”

    People intercepted at sea, even in U.S. waters, have fewer rights than those who come by land. “Asylum does not apply at sea,” a Coast Guard spokesperson told me. Even people who are fleeing violence, rape and death, who on land would be likely to pass an initial asylum screening, are routinely sent back to the countries they’ve fled. To try to get through, people held on Coast Guard ships have occasionally taken to harming themselves — swallowing sharp objects, stabbing themselves with smuggled knives — in the hope that they’ll be rushed to emergency rooms on land where they can try to claim asylum.

    The restrictions, combined with the nearly 30-year spike in maritime migration, created a crisis for the Coast Guard too, leading to what one senior Coast Guard official described in an internal email in February as “war-fighting levels of stress and fatigue.” Coast Guard crew members described to me their distress at having to reject desperate person after desperate person, but the worst part of the job, several said, was turning away the children who were traveling alone. From July 2021 to September 2023, the number of children without parents or guardians held by the Coast Guard spiked, a nearly tenfold increase over the prior two years. Most of them were Haitian. “The hardest ones for me are the unaccompanied minors,” one crew member told me. “They’re put on this boat to try to come to America, and they have no one.”

    The treatment of children is perhaps the starkest difference between immigration policy on land and at sea. At land borders, unaccompanied minors from countries other than Mexico and Canada cannot simply be turned back. They are assigned government caseworkers and are often placed in shelters, then with family members, on track to gain legal status. That system has its own serious failings, but the principle is that children must be protected. Not so at sea. U.S. courts have not determined what protections should extend to minors held on U.S. ships, even those detained well within U.S. waters. The Coast Guard says that its crew members screen children to identify “human-trafficking indicators and protection concerns including fear of return.” A spokesperson told me that “migrants who indicate a fear of return receive further screening” by Homeland Security officials.

    But of the almost 500 unaccompanied children held on the agency’s cutters in the Caribbean and the Straits of Florida between July 2021 and early September 2023, five were allowed into the U.S. because federal agencies believed they would face persecution at home, even amid escalating violence in Haiti, including the documented murder and rape of children. One other child was medically evacuated to a hospital in Florida, and six were brought to land for reasons that the internal Coast Guard records do not explain. The rest were delivered back to the countries they left, and it’s often unclear where they go once they return. Some have nowhere to stay and no one to take care of them. On occasion, they are so young that they don’t know the names of their parents or the country where they were born. One official from an agency involved in processing people delivered by the U.S. Coast Guard to Haiti told me “it is an open secret” that the process can be dangerously inconsistent. “Children leave the port,” the official said, “and what happens to them after they leave, no one knows.”

    Stephania LaFortune had not wanted to send her 10-year-old son on a boat by himself. She knew firsthand how perilous the journey could be. In May 2021, before the boat she had boarded made it to a Florida beach, some of the passengers jumped into the water to wade through the heavy waves. “They almost drowned,” she told me when I met her in Toronto. LaFortune waited on the beached vessel until U.S. Border Patrol officials came to detain her. In detention, she claimed asylum and was soon released. For months, she searched for other ways to bring Tcherry to her, but LaFortune ultimately determined she had no alternative.

    The first time LaFortune left Tcherry, he was 3 years old. Her husband, a police cadet, had been shot in his uniform and left to die in a ditch outside Port-au-Prince, and LaFortune, fearing for her life, departed for the Bahamas. Tcherry stayed behind with his grandmother. Four years later, as violence began to flare again, Tcherry’s mother finally made good on her promise to send for him. She arranged for him to fly to the Bahamas, where she had remarried and had a baby girl. But Tcherry was in the Bahamas not even a year when LaFortune told him that she would be leaving again — not because she wanted to, she assured her sobbing son, but because she had seen how Haitians were harassed and deported, and she simply didn’t believe there was real opportunity there. Tcherry’s stepfather and his younger half sister, who were Bahamian citizens, joined LaFortune months later. She arranged for Tcherry to live with relatives, promising to send for him as soon as she could.

    LaFortune’s asylum case in Florida dragged on, so she and her husband and daughter traveled over land to Canada, where they hoped they could get legal status more quickly. While they waited for a decision in their asylum case, the relative Tcherry was staying with said he could no longer take care of a growing boy by himself. After begging others to take her son, LaFortune found a woman she knew back in Haiti who said she was planning to make the trip to Florida herself with her own children. For $3,000, the woman said, she could take Tcherry with them. LaFortune sent the money. The woman took Tcherry to the smuggler’s house and did not return for him.

    That house, and the one where Tcherry was moved next, were filled with Haitians fleeing the crisis that began in July 2021, when President Jovenel Moïse was assassinated by a team of mostly Colombian mercenaries hired through a Miami-area security company. The U.S. Justice Department has accused nearly a dozen people, some based in the United States, of setting the assassination in motion. As the Haitian state crumbled, proliferating gangs, many with ties to the country’s political elite, burst from the neighborhoods they’d long controlled and began terrorizing Port-au-Prince and swaths of the rest of the country. Kidnapping, extortion, the rape of women and children, and the torching of homes and neighborhoods became routine weapons of fear. Thousands have been murdered, and in June the United Nations estimated that nearly 200,000 have been internally displaced. Haitians able to gather the resources have left however they can. Many have traveled over land to the Dominican Republic or by air to South and Central America. And thousands have boarded boats bound for the beaches of Florida.

    The people on the vessel with Tcherry had reasons, each as urgent as the next, for being there. There was a 31-year-old street vendor whose Port-au-Prince neighborhood had been taken over by gangs; she said that when she tried to flee north by bus, men with guns forced her and other women off the bus and raped them. A man from a district in the north said he’d been beaten more than once by thugs sent by a political boss he’d opposed; both times they threatened to kill him. A man who worked as a Vodou priest in Port-au-Prince said he left because he needed money for his sick daughter, and gangs were confiscating his wages. The pregnant woman who helped comfort the crying baby said she had been kidnapped and raped; she was released only after her family sold land and collected donations to pay for her ransom. Two women were traveling with their daughters, but Tcherry, Claire and Beana were the only young children traveling alone.

    Tcherry sat on the deck of a Coast Guard cutter called the Manowar along with the rest of the group, exhausted, scared and confused. Nobody had explained to him what would happen next. Crew members in blue uniforms finally gave them food, small plates of rice and beans, and began to search their belongings and run their photos and fingerprints through federal immigration and criminal databases. Tcherry and the sisters followed the orders of a crew member with blond hair, cut like the soldiers in movies Tcherry had seen, to sit in the shaded spot under the stairs to the bridge.

    On the stern of the cutter, a man in his early 30s named Peterson sat watching the children. He had crossed paths with them weeks earlier in one of the houses; seeing they were hungry, he had brought them extra slices of bread and even cut Tcherry’s hair. Claire reminded him of his own young daughter in Haiti. Peterson had not wanted to leave his child, but gangs had recently taken control of roadways not far from his home in the coastal city of Saint-Marc. He had not earned a decent wage for many months, not since he lost his job as a driver at a missionary organization. He had decided to leave for the United States so he could send money back to Haiti for his daughter, who remained behind with her mother.

    Now it occurred to Peterson that his connection to Tcherry and the girls could work to his advantage. Surely the Coast Guard wouldn’t return children to Haiti, he thought. Surely they wouldn’t separate a family. “I thought that there might be an opportunity for me to get to the U.S.,” he told me. He approached Tcherry, Claire and Beana and told them they should tell the crew he was their uncle.

    Peterson’s small kindness in the smuggler’s house had given Tcherry reason to trust him. When it came time for the blond-haired crew member, Petty Officer Timothy James, to interview the children, Peterson stood close behind. With the help of another Haitian man who spoke some English, Peterson told James that he was their uncle. James asked the children if it was true. Tcherry and Claire, both timid, their eyes lowered, said it was. Beana was too young to understand. James handed her a brown teddy bear, which the crew of the Manowar keeps on board because of the growing number of children they detain, and sent the children back to the stern.

    But no more than a couple of hours later, Peterson changed his mind. He’d noticed that the pregnant woman had been evaluated by Florida EMTs, and he moved over to offer her a deal: If she would tell the crew he was her husband and let him join her if they brought her to land, his brother in Florida, who already paid $6,000 for his place on this boat, would make sure she was compensated. “I helped her understand that that is something she could profit from,” he says. The woman agreed, and Peterson, who now needed to tell the truth about the children, divulged to a crew member that he was not their uncle. “I was just trying to help if I could,” he said.

    James crouched down beside the children again and told them not to lie. “Why did you leave your home to go to the United States,” he read off a questionnaire. “To go to my parents,” Tcherry replied. To Tcherry, the questions seemed like a good sign. He was unsure whether he could trust these crew members after the officer on the sheriff boat pointed a long gun at them the night before. “I thought they were going to shoot me,” Tcherry says. But James calmly directed the children to sit in the one shaded place on the boat, and gave them cookies and slices of apple. “He was nice,” Tcherry says — the nicest anyone had been since Peterson brought them bread in the house.

    James kept reading the form. “What will happen when you get there?” he asked. Tcherry looked up. He latched onto the words “when you get there” and took them as a promise. He asked James when they would be on land. James said the same thing he told everyone on the boat: that the decision was not up to him, that he was just doing his job. Tcherry was convinced James would send him and Claire and Beana to their mothers. He thought of the story his mother had told him about his father’s murder, his body in a ditch by the road, and of his last memory of Haiti, when he passed through a gang checkpoint on the way to the airport. “I saw bandits approaching toward us, and he had a gun pulled,” Tcherry told me. “My heart started beating fast, and I thought he was going to shoot.” He was overwhelmed with relief that he would never have to go back there.

    A boat came to bring someone to land. But it was not there to pick up Tcherry or the other children. A Coast Guard medical officer had reviewed the pregnant woman’s vitals and made a decision that because she “may go into labor at any moment,” she would be brought to a hospital in Palm Beach County accompanied by U.S. Customs and Border Protection. Before she was taken away, Peterson said the woman told him she would not claim to be married to him after all. She didn’t want a stranger on her baby’s birth certificate. She offered to say she was his cousin. “I knew that being the cousin would not be enough,” Peterson recalls, “and I have to say that I lost hope.”

    The pregnant woman disappeared on a small boat toward land. Those left on the stern began to talk among themselves, asking why the baby, who had barely stopped crying, and the other children had been left aboard the cutter. They said they could not keep going like this, eating only small portions of scarcely cooked and saltless rice and beans, unable to bathe and forced to urinate and defecate in a toilet seat attached to a metal box with a tube off the side of the open deck. They decided they would rise in unison and protest, and they passed the word from one to the next. At around 9 p.m., dozens of people began to yell toward the bridge demanding interpreters, lawyers or just to know what would become of them. From the bow where he stood, James heard faint yelling, and then the voice of the officer in charge over the loudspeaker. “They’re starting an uprising on the fantail,” he said. “I need you back there.”

    Timothy James came from a conservative family in a conservative little town in the mountains of North Carolina. He and his wife held handguns aloft in their wedding photos, and his first job after dropping out of college was as a sheriff’s deputy at the jail. James joined the Coast Guard in 2015. “My main goal,” he told me, “was to chase down drug runners and catch migrants” — two groups that were more or less the same, as far as he understood.

    He’d been on the job no more than a few weeks before his expectations were upended. “I had no idea what I was talking about,” he told me. There was much less “running and gunning, catching bad guys” than he’d anticipated. Instead, the people he detained would tell him their stories, sometimes with the help of Google Translate on his phone, about violence and deprivation like he had never contemplated. People described what it was like to live on $12 a month. There were children and grandmothers who could have been his own, and young men not so unlike him. They were not trying to infiltrate the country as he’d thought. They were running because “they didn’t have another option,” he says.

    James and his colleagues learned the lengths people would go to try to get to land. Since last fall, people detained on cutters have pulled jagged metal cotter pins, bolts and screws from the rigging and swallowed them, apparently trying to cause such severe injury that they’d be taken to a hospital. Last August, near the Florida Keys, three Cuban men were reported to the Coast Guard by a passing towboat operator; most likely fearing they would be brought back to Cuba, they stabbed and slashed their legs with blades and were found in puddles of blood. In January, a man plunged a five-inch buck-style knife that he’d carried onto a cutter into the side of his torso and slashed it down his rib cage. The crew taped the knife to the wound to stop him from bleeding out as he fell unconscious. Most of these people were delivered to Customs and Border Protection and rushed to hospitals on land, where they probably intended to claim asylum. By the time James began working as operations officer on the Manowar last summer, he and other crew members started every leg at sea by scouring the decks for anything that people might use to harm themselves. (According to a DHS spokesperson, “medical evacuations do not mean that migrants have a greater chance of remaining in the United States.”)

    People detained on cutters have in rare cases threatened to harm Coast Guard members or others they’re traveling with. In January, a group the Coast Guard detained pushed crew members and locked arms to stop their removal to another cutter, according to an internal record. That same month, a group of Haitians held children over the side of a boat, “threatening to throw them overboard and set them on fire” if the Coast Guard came closer. Weeks later, a group of Cubans brandished poles with nails hammered into them and tried to attack an approaching Coast Guard boat. Conflicts between crew and those they detain have escalated to the point that Coast Guard members have shot people with pepper balls and subdued others with stun maneuvers.

    James tensed as he heard the order over the loudspeaker. He thought of the crowd-control techniques he’d learned to immobilize someone, and stepped down the side walkway toward the stern. In front of him were dozens of angry men and a few women, yelling in Haitian Creole. James hesitated and then walked forcefully up to the group, his hands pulled into his sides as if he were ready to throw a punch. Instead, he took a knee. He gestured to the men around him to come join him. He spoke into a cellphone in English, and on the screen he showed them the Google Translate app: “You’ve got to tell everybody to calm down,” it read in Creole. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

    Before they could respond, five other crew members came down the stairs, plastic zip ties and batons hanging from their belts. Tcherry was sitting under the stairs, beside Claire and Beana, who had not let go of the teddy bear. “Shut up, shut up,” one of the crew told the protesters as he stepped in front of Tcherry. “One of them said he was going to pepper-spray their eyes and handcuff them,” Tcherry says. James told his colleagues to wait. The yelling in English and Creole grew louder. A man to Tcherry’s left began to scream and roll on the ground, and then he rolled partway under the handrail. A crew member grabbed the man by the back of the pants and hauled him up. James secured his wrist to a post on the deck. “Nobody’s dying on my boat today,” James said.

    Above Tcherry, another crew member stepped onto the landing at the top of the stairs. He held a shotgun and cocked it. James claims that the gun was not loaded, but the threat of violence had its intended effect. The protesters stepped back and went quiet.

    James kept speaking into the phone. “What do you want?” he asked the men.

    “If we go back, we’re dead,” one man replied. They said they could not endure being on the boat much longer.

    “If it were up to me, we’d be taking you to land,” James said. “But it is not up to us.” There was a process to seek protection, he told them. “But what you’re doing now is not that process.”

    Coast Guard crews do not decide who will be offered protection and who will be sent back. Their responsibility is only to document what the agency calls “manifestation of fear” (MOF) claims. The Coast Guard instructs them to make note of such claims only when people proactively assert them or when they observe people exhibiting signs of fear, such as shaking or crying. They are not supposed to ask. That may help explain why the agency has logged only 1,900 claims from more than 27,000 people detained in this region between July 2021 and September 2023. Fewer than 300 of those came from Haitians, even though they make up about a third of people held on cutters. Officials in the Coast Guard and in U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services told me that Haitians face a systemic disadvantage in making a successful claim for protection: Almost no one working on Coast Guard boats can speak or understand Creole. (The Coast Guard told me it has access to contracted Creole interpreters aboard cutters.)

    Regardless of the person’s nationality, the process is nearly always a dead end. Each person who makes a claim for protection is supposed to be referred to a U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services officer, who conducts a “credible fear” screening by phone or in person on a cutter. Between July 2021 and early September 2023, USCIS approved about 60 of the approximately 1,900 claims — around 3%. By contrast, about 60% of asylum applicants on land passed a credible-fear screening over roughly the same period. Unlike on land, people who are denied on ships have no access to courts or lawyers to appeal the decision. And the few who are approved are not sent to the United States at all. Should they choose to proceed with their claims, they are delivered to an immigration holding facility at the U.S. naval base at Guantánamo Bay, where they are evaluated again. They’re told they should be prepared to wait for two years or more, until another country agrees to take them as refugees. Only 36 of the people with approved claims agreed to be sent to Guantánamo. The State Department says there are currently no unaccompanied minors held at the Migrant Operations Center at Guantánamo, but a recent federal contract document says that the facility is prepared to accept them.

    The Manowar crew had been tasked by the local Coast Guard office with logging any requests for protection. But the night after the protest had been too chaotic and exhausting for them to do so. In the morning, a larger cutter with more supplies arrived. The people detained on the Manowar would be transferred to that boat. Before they departed, James told them that anyone who intended to seek protection should seek help from the crew on the next boat. “Tell them, ‘I’m in fear for my life,’ just like you told me,” he said. “You tell whoever is processing you that specific thing.”

    But subsequent crews logged no such claims, according to records I obtained. One man told me that, in response to his plea for protection, an officer on the next boat wrote a note on a piece of paper, but nobody ever followed up. Another said that an officer told him their claims would be heard later. But there were no more interviews. “We had no opportunity,” a woman in the group says. When I asked the Coast Guard about this, a spokesperson told me the agency meticulously documents all claims. “Since we do not have a record of any of those migrants communicating that they feared for their lives if returned to Haiti, I cannot say that they made MOF claims while aboard,” he said.

    Tcherry fell asleep on the larger cutter and woke at around dawn to commotion. He saw an EMT pressing on the chest of a middle-aged woman who lay several yards away from him. She had been moaning in pain the night before. The crew member keeping watch had found her dead, her nose and mouth covered in blood. Another Haitian woman began to sing a hymn as the EMT performing CPR cried. A small boat took the woman’s body away and then returned for another man who had been complaining of pain and could not urinate. “I thought they would take us to land after the woman had died,” Tcherry says. “I thought they would let us go.” But that afternoon, he was transferred to yet another cutter that pulled away from Florida and into the high seas. Tcherry finally understood he was being sent back.

    The Coast Guard was first deployed as a maritime border-patrol agency to stop an earlier surge of migration from Haiti. In 1981, President Ronald Reagan made a deal with Jean-Claude Duvalier, the Haitian dictator, that allowed the Coast Guard to stop and board Haitian boats and deliver those detained directly back to Haiti. They would be processed on Coast Guard cutters, far from lawyers who could review their cases. The order, advocates argued at the time, undermined U.N. refugee protections and a U.S. refugee-and-asylum law that Congress passed just the year before. “This effort to push borders into the world’s oceans was new, and it marked a perverse paradigm shift,” Jeffrey Kahn, a legal scholar at the University of California, Davis, wrote recently.

    A decade after the Reagan agreement, as Haitians again departed en masse following a military coup, the George H.W. Bush administration further buttressed the sea wall. Bush signed an order that said federal agencies had no obligation to consider asylum claims from Haitians caught in international waters, no matter the evidence of danger or persecution. Lawyers and activists protested, calling the maritime regime a wholesale abdication of human rights doctrine. But the Bush order still stands. By the mid-1990s, its reach expanded to nearly anyone of any nationality caught in the sea, whether out in international waters or a couple of hundred feet from the beach.

    Pushing migrants and refugees away from the land borders to avoid obligations under law has now become common practice. In the United States, consecutive policies under Presidents Barack Obama, Donald Trump and Joe Biden have attempted to cast whole swaths of the land south of the border as a legal no-man’s land like the ocean. They have outsourced deterrence, detention and deportation to Mexico and Central America. Trump and Biden have sought to bar people from seeking asylum if they don’t first try to apply for protection in countries they pass through on their way to the United States. Europe, for its part, has pushed people coming by boat through the Mediterranean back to North African shores, where countries have imposed brutal regimes of deterrence.

    None of those measures have prevented the latest wave of migration from the Caribbean. In January, amid a generational spike in Haitians and Cubans held on their cutters, the Coast Guard acknowledged that crew members were reaching a breaking point. “We are in extremis,” a senior official wrote to colleagues in a widely circulated internal email in January. “I know you and your teams are pushed beyond limits.” The head of the Coast Guard for the eastern half of the United States, Vice Adm. Kevin Lunday, wrote in February to colleagues that two outside experts had told him their crews were under extreme stress similar to the levels experienced in “sustained combat operations.”

    Coast Guard members told me they had become accustomed to retrieving corpses from capsized boats, worn down by water or gnawed on by sharks. It was not uncommon to walk down a stairway or into a bunk room and come upon a crew member sobbing. Crew members waited months for mental health appointments, and the agency was talking openly about suicide prevention. “I don’t see how the current level of operations is sustainable,” Capt. Chris Cederholm, the commander of U.S. Coast Guard Sector Miami, wrote to colleagues, “without the breaking of several of our people.” Some were struggling with what one former crew member called a “moral dilemma,” because they had begun to understand that the job required them to inflict suffering on others. “We hear their stories, people who say they’d rather we shoot them right here than send them back to what they’re running from,” one Coast Guard member says. “And then we send them all back.”

    Tim James told me he tried to take his mind off the job by lifting weights and frequenting a cigar bar where service members and cops go to talk about “the suck,” but he soon realized he needed more than weights or whiskey to reckon with the mounting stress, even despair. “I go home, and I feel guilty,” he told me, “because I don’t have to worry about somebody kicking in my front door, you know, I don’t have to worry about the military roaming the streets.” He sought mental health support from a new “resiliency support team” the agency created. But James had not been able to shake the memories of the children he detained, particularly one 7-year-old Haitian girl with small braids. She’d been wearing shorts and a tank top, her feet were bare and she smiled at James whenever their eyes caught. “My mom is dead,” she told James with the help of an older child who spoke a little English. “I want to go to my auntie in Miami.”

    In the girl’s belongings the crew found a piece of paper with a phone number she said was her aunt’s. After James interviewed her, they sent her unaccompanied-minor questionnaire to the district office in Florida, and they waited for instructions on what to do with her. Out on the deck, James couldn’t help hoping she’d be taken to shore, to her aunt. But late in the morning the next day, the crew received a list from an office in Washington, D.C., of the people to be sent back. The girl was on the list. James cried on the return trip to port. One of his own daughters was about the girl’s age. “I can’t imagine sending my 7-year-old little kid across an ocean that is unforgiving,” James told me, nearly in tears. “I can’t imagine what my life would be like to have to do that.”

    That was just weeks before he encountered Tcherry, Claire and Beana. So when Peterson admitted the children were alone, the news came as a blow. “It’s a pretty hard hit when you think the kids have somebody and then it turns out that they really don’t,” James told me. He could see that Tcherry thought he would be making it to shore. “To see the hope on his face and then have to kind of turn around and destroy that is tough,” James told me. He never learns what becomes of the people he transfers off his cutter: that the pregnant woman gave birth in a hospital to a healthy boy and has an asylum case pending; that the body of Guerline Tulus, the woman who died on the cutter of what the medical examiner concluded was an embolism, remains in a Miami morgue, and that authorities have not identified any next of kin. He does not know what happened to the three children after they were sent back, but many months later, he says, he still wonders about them.

    Tcherry followed Claire and Beana up a rickety ramp in the port of Cap-Haïtien, Haiti, past a seized blue and yellow cargo ship into the Haitian Coast Guard station. The ground was littered with plastic U.S. Coast Guard bracelets that previous groups of people had pulled off and thrown to the ground. Officials from the Haitian child-protection authority and the U.N.’s International Organization for Migration watched as Tcherry and the rest of the group disembarked. “They looked scared and they said they were hungry,” a veteran official at IBESR, the Haitian child-protection agency, who was working at the port that day told me. “As a Haitian, I feel humiliated,” he says, “but we can’t really do anything about it. We’ve resigned ourselves.” To him, the people the Americans offloaded in Haiti always looked half dead. “It seems to me that when those children fall in their hands, they should know how to treat them. But that’s not the case.”

    Tcherry’s throat hurt and his legs were weak. He had never felt such tiredness. He ate as much as he could from the warm plate of food the UN provided. Slumped over on a bench, he waited for his turn to use the shower in a white and blue wash shed on the edge of a fenced lot behind the Haitian Coast Guard station. The officials brought several people to a hospital and got to work figuring out what to do with the unaccompanied children.

    The U.S. Coast Guard and State Department say that the children they send back are transferred into the hands of local authorities responsible for the care of children. “When we have custodial protection of those children, we want to make sure that the necessary steps are taken,” Lt. Cmdr. John Beal, a Coast Guard spokesperson, told me, “to ensure that when we repatriate those migrants, they don’t end up in some nefarious actor’s custody or something.” But no U.S. agency would explain the actual precautions the U.S. government takes to keep children from ending up in the wrong hands, beyond initial screenings aboard cutters. Last year, the Coast Guard stopped tracking the “reception agency” in each country, because according to the Department of Homeland Security, the U.S. government has set up rules establishing which agencies take these children and no longer needs to track them on a case-by-case basis.

    Haitian child-protection officials in Cap-Haïtien say their agency always finds relatives to take children, though sometimes after weeks or months. But the official with one of the other agencies involved in the processing of returned and deported Haitians at the Cap-Haïtien port said this claim is simply not true. The official said that children have departed the port with adults and with older children without any agency confirming they have an actual relationship or connection. “This is a serious concern in terms of trafficking,” the official told me. IBESR said those claims were unfounded. “According to the procedure, every child who leaves the port is accompanied by someone,” the IBESR official said, adding that when possible, the agency follows up with families to make sure children arrive safely. But the agency acknowledged there are limits to the support it can provide because of a lack of resources.
    Before they left the cutter, Peterson told Tcherry and the sisters that he would take care of them until they could contact their parents, who would figure out where they needed to go. Tcherry agreed. Peterson later told me he’d thought carefully about whether he wanted to get involved in the kids’ affairs once they were off the boat. He’d talked to other adults onboard, and they all agreed that someone needed to step up, that the Haitian government was surely not to be trusted. “If I didn’t do it,” Peterson says, “they would remain with the Haitian state, with all the risks that they could’ve faced, including kidnapping.”

    Peterson told the child-protection agency that he was the children’s guardian. The officials said they would need to contact the parents to confirm, so Peterson did the only thing he could think to do: He called the man who had been his conduit to the boat out of the Bahamas. The man sent him photos of the children’s IDs and put Peterson in touch with Claire and Beana’s mother, Inose Jean, in Michigan. She screamed and cried with relief upon learning her daughters were alive. Peterson explained that he’d taken care of the girls at sea and he asked her what to do with them. She said she would call back. Two hours later, she instructed Peterson to take the girls to her friend’s house in Cap-Haïtien.

    But Peterson still had no number for Tcherry’s mother. So he told the officials that Tcherry was Claire and Beana’s cousin, and that he’d gotten the image of Tcherry’s ID from Inose Jean. At dusk, Peterson walked with the three children through the metal gate of the Haitian Coast Guard station, at once incensed and relieved that he’d been allowed to take them. “The Haitian authorities didn’t talk to the children’s mothers,” Peterson says. “There was not enough evidence to actually prove I was who I was, or to prove a relationship.” They took a taxi to Jean’s friend’s house, and Claire, who recognized the woman from years earlier, rushed into her arms.

    The woman agreed to let Tcherry spend a night there. Peterson went to a cheap hotel with spotty electricity and a dirty pool. The man in the Bahamas finally sent Peterson Tcherry’s mother’s number. “I am the person who stood up to care for Tcherry on the boat,” Peterson told LaFortune. She collapsed onto the bed in her room, the only piece of furniture in the Toronto apartment she shared with her husband and her daughter. She had spent the last six days in a terrified daze, calling the people in the Bahamas she’d paid, begging for any news and fighting images in her mind of her son sinking into the sea. The next morning, after Tcherry woke, Peterson called LaFortune again. Tcherry looked weak and his voice was frail and hoarse. “When will I be with you, Mommy?” he asked.

    LaFortune did not for a moment consider trying to put Tcherry on another boat. She told him she would wait until she got asylum in Canada and send for him legally. But Haiti was even more dangerous for Tcherry than when he’d left. One man who was detained with Tcherry, whom I interviewed in Haiti two weeks after he returned there, said he feared he would be killed if he left Cap-Haïtien for his home in Port-au-Prince. After he ran through the roughly $50 the U.N. agency gave each of the returnees, which he used for a hotel, he did go back and was attacked on the street as he traveled to a hospital, he said, to get medicine for his daughter. He sent me photographs of gashes on his body. A second man sent me photos of a deep head wound that he suffered during an attack by the very armed men he had said he was running from. Another woman from the boat who told me she fled because she was raped says she is now “in hiding” in Port-au-Prince, living with relatives and her daughter, whom she does not allow to leave the house.

    Others on the boat have been luckier. In late 2022, the Department of Homeland Security started an unusually broad new legal-immigration program that now allows Haitians and Cubans, along with Venezuelans and Nicaraguans, to apply for two-year entry permits on humanitarian grounds from their countries, rather than traveling by land or sea first. The Department of Homeland Security says that since the program began, it has processed 30,000 people a month. More than 107,000 Haitians and 57,000 Cubans have been approved for entry, including a man who was detained with Tcherry. On Oct. 18, he stepped off a plane in Fort Lauderdale with a legal entry permit. He made it just under the wire, given the timing of his interdiction in February. In late April, DHS added a caveat to the new program: Anyone stopped at sea from then on would be ineligible to apply to the parole program. The Coast Guard says the new program and the accompanying restriction have caused the numbers of Cubans and Haitians departing on boats to fall back down to their pre-2021 level. “People have a safe and lawful alternative,” Beal, the Coast Guard’s spokesperson in Florida, told me, “so they don’t feel their only option is to take to the sea.”

    Tcherry rode a bus with Peterson over the mountains to Saint-Marc. In the stucco house on a quiet street where Peterson lived with his fiancée and her parents, Tcherry struggled to stop thinking about his experience at sea. “When I sleep, when I sit down, I want to cry,” Tcherry told me days after his arrival there. “They had us for five days. We couldn’t eat well, couldn’t sleep well. Couldn’t brush our teeth.” He thought of his body soaked from the sea spray, of the woman who died. Although Peterson assured him it was not true, Tcherry kept wondering if the officers had just thrown her body into the sea. “He is having nightmares about the boats,” Peterson told me a week after their arrival, “reliving the same moment again and again, and he starts crying.”

    LaFortune told Tcherry that she was arranging for him to travel to his grandmother in another part of the country. But it soon became clear to her that the roads were too dangerous, spotted with gang and vigilante checkpoints guarded often by men carrying AK-47s. Peterson told LaFortune that Tcherry could stay with him as long as she needed him to. But as the weeks turned to months, Tcherry felt that Peterson began to change. He said Peterson needed money, and he was asking Tcherry’s mother to send more and more. Peterson was frequently out of the house, working odd jobs, and often could not answer LaFortune’s calls. She grew worried. When she did talk to Tcherry, he was as quiet as he was in the smuggler’s house in the Bahamas.

    Two months passed. LaFortune’s asylum case was denied, and she and her husband appealed. Four more months passed. LaFortune’s husband heard news that gangs were closing in on Saint-Marc. LaFortune decided that they must move Tcherry, that it was time to risk the journey on the roads. In September, she sent an old family friend to collect him. They rode on a bus through a checkpoint where the driver paid a fee to a masked man. “I saw a man holding his gun,” Tcherry says. The man made a sign that they could pass.

    Tcherry arrived at a busy bus station in Port-au-Prince and looked for his grandmother. He saw her in a crowd and remembered her face, her high forehead and wide smile. “That is my grandma,” he said, again and again. His mutters turned to song. “That is my grandmother, tololo, tololo, that is my grandmother.” He sank into her arms. He held her hand as they boarded another bus and passed through another checkpoint, back to where he began.

    https://www.propublica.org/article/when-the-coast-guard-intercepts-unaccompanied-kids

    –—

    Reprise du #modèle_australien et son concept de l’#excision_territoriale :

    “People intercepted at sea, even in U.S. waters, have fewer rights than those who come by land. “Asylum does not apply at sea,” a Coast Guard spokesperson told me. Even people who are fleeing violence, rape and death, who on land would be likely to pass an initial asylum screening, are routinely sent back to the countries they’ve fled.”

    Excision territoriale :

    https://seenthis.net/messages/416996
    #Australie

    #droits #mer #terre #USA #Etats-Unis #asile #migrations #réfugiés #MNA #mineurs_non_accompagnés #enfants #enfance #Haïti #réfugiés_haïtiens

    via @freakonometrics

  • #Royaume-Uni : un migrant décède à bord de la #barge « #Bibby_Stockholm »

    Un exilé est mort, mardi matin, sur la barge « Bibby Stockholm », stationnée dans un port du sud-ouest de l’Angleterre. D’après la presse britannique, l’homme se serait suicidé. La structure, qui accueille des demandeurs d’asile en attente du traitement de leur dossier, est sous le feu des critiques depuis sa mise en place en août dernier.

    Nouvelle polémique à propos de « Bibby Stockholm ». Un demandeur d’asile est décédé mardi 12 décembre à bord de la barge, stationnée à quai dans le port de Portland, au sud-ouest de l’Angleterre. La police du Dorset a indiqué avoir été informée à 06h22, heure locale, de la « mort soudaine d’un résident ».

    Aucun autre détail n’a été rendu public, mais plusieurs sources ont déclaré à la BBC que l’homme décédé se serait suicidé. Le décès est survenu dans l’une des plus de 200 cabines à bord, a indiqué une autre source au média britannique.

    Le porte-parole du Premier ministre a fait savoir au Guardian que « toute personne arrivant à Bibby Stockholm subit une évaluation médicale, est surveillée en permanence pendant son séjour dans l’hébergement et reçoit toute l’assistance nécessaire, à juste titre ». Près de 300 demandeurs d’asile sont actuellement hébergés dans la barge, pour une capacité totale de 500 places.
    « Des conditions » d’hébergement « traumatisantes »

    Le ministre de l’Intérieur James Cleverly a assuré que ce décès ferait l’objet d’une « enquête complète ». « Je suis sûr que les pensées de toute la Chambre, comme la mienne, vont aux personnes concernées », a-t-il ajouté. Richard Drax, député conservateur de South Dorset, a déclaré qu’il s’agissait d’une « tragédie née d’une situation impossible ». « On ne peut qu’imaginer les circonstances désespérées qui ont conduit à ce triste résultat ».

    Le directeur général du Conseil pour les réfugiés Enver Solomon, lui, a demandé qu’une enquête indépendante soit menée afin « d’éviter de nouvelles tragédies de ce type ».

    Steve Smith, président de l’association Care4Calais, pointe également du doigt « le gouvernement britannique » qui « doit assumer la responsabilité de cette tragédie humaine ». « Nous signalons régulièrement des intentions suicidaires parmi les résidents et aucune mesure n’est prise », a-t-il déploré sur X.

    https://twitter.com/FreefromTorture/status/1734552685506875393

    « Cette dernière tragédie nous rappelle une fois de plus que les politiques punitives du gouvernement à l’égard des réfugiés sont non seulement cruelles, mais qu’elles coûtent également des vies », a martelé Ann Salter de l’ONG Freedom from Torture. « D’après les survivants avec lesquels je travaille chaque jour, je sais que les conditions exiguës et dangereuses à bord du Bibby peuvent être profondément choquantes pour ceux qui ont survécu à la torture et à la persécution, en plus des expériences traumatisantes qu’ils ont vécues en route vers le Royaume-Uni ».
    Contamination à la légionellose

    La plateforme de trois étages est utilisée depuis quelques mois pour héberger des migrants malgré de vives critiques. Le recours à cette barge, dénoncé par de nombreuses associations d’aide aux migrants, est destiné à réduire la facture de l’hébergement des demandeurs d’asile. Il figure parmi les nombreuses mesures controversées du gouvernement conservateur en matière d’immigration.

    Les premiers migrants sont arrivés sur le « Bibby Stockholm », lancée par l’ex-ministre de l’Intérieur Suella Braverman, en août dernier. Mais l’embarcation avait dû être évacuée en raison d’une contamination du réseau hydraulique à la légionellose. En octobre, la barge avait pu être de nouveau utilisée.

    D’après le Guardian, le ministère de l’Intérieur a depuis fourni un financement supplémentaire au port de Dorset pour la création d’un centre médical à bord. Un infirmier praticien ou un ambulancier sont présents sur la barge quatre ou cinq jours par semaine et un médecin généraliste, une fois par semaine, avec des services de traduction disponibles, a déclaré l’administration du Dorset en octobre.

    Insuffisant, pour les associations, qui ne cessent de tirer la sonnette d’alarme sur la détérioration de la santé mentale des résidents à bord, exacerbée par l’emplacement isolé de la barge. Suite au décès ce matin, un demandeur d’asile hébergé dans la structure a fait savoir au Guardian « ne pas être surpris » par cette annonce. « C’est un résultat prévisible de la politique appliquée par le ministère de l’Intérieur. Plus il y a de gens ici, plus l’attente est longue, et plus la santé mentale de chacun se détériore », a-t-il soufflé.

    « J’ai un message simple pour le ministère de l’Intérieur : combien de personnes doivent mourir avant que vous ne réalisiez les erreurs que vous avez commises dans la façon dont vous traitez les demandeurs d’asile ? »

    https://www.infomigrants.net/fr/post/53837/royaumeuni--un-migrant-decede-a-bord-de-la-barge-bibby-stockholm
    #UK #Angleterre #décès #mort #migrations #asile #réfugiés #hébergement #accueil #suicide

    –—

    ajouté à la métaliste sur le Bibby Stockholm :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/1016683

  • Migranti, la Corte costituzionale albanese sospende la ratifica dell’accordo con l’Italia

    L’intervento dopo due ricorsi presentati dal Partito democratico di Tirana e da deputati vicini all’ex premier Berisha. Fonti di Palazzo Chigi: “Nessuna preoccupazione”

    ROMA - Rinunciare alla sovranità nei due territori che il premier Edi Rama ha offerto all’Italia per la realizzazione di centri di accoglienza per migranti è un atto che avrebbe dovuto essere preventivamente autorizzato dal presidente della Repubblica. Si basa su questa contestazione il ricorso presentato dalle opposizioni al governo di Tirana, col quale è stato bloccato in extremis l’accordo che oggi avrebbe dovuto essere ratificato dal parlamento.

    (#paywall)
    https://www.repubblica.it/politica/2023/12/13/news/accordo_italia_albania_sui_migranti_sospeso_dallalta_corte_albanese-42165

    #suspension #Italie #asile #migrations #réfugiés #Albanie #accord #externalisation #centres

    –-

    ajouté à la métaliste sur l’#accord entre #Italie et #Albanie pour la construction de #centres d’accueil (sic) et identification des migrants/#réfugiés sur le territoire albanais...
    https://seenthis.net/messages/1043873

    • Albania: la Corte Costituzionale sospende l’accordo Rama-Meloni

      La Corte Costituzionale albanese ha sospeso la ratifica del controverso accordo tra Edi Rama e la premier italiana Giorgia Meloni sulla creazione di centri di accoglienza e rimpatrio per migranti sul suolo albanese, finanziati e gestiti dall’Italia. Le reazioni della politica albanese

      Con una decisione lampo, la Corte Costituzionale albanese ha sospeso la ratifica del protocollo sul trasferimento dei migranti stipulato tra il premier Edi Rama e l’omologa italiana Giorgia Meloni del 6 novembre scorso. La procedura di ratifica, prevista per giovedì 14 dicembre, era stata inserita nell’agenda del parlamento con procedura accelerata dalla maggioranza socialista al governo.

      Nell’esame preliminare, i tre giudici della Corte Costituzionale hanno ritenuto ammissibile il ricorso presentato dall’opposizione di centro destra, sottoponendo il caso alla decisione della seduta plenaria prevista per il 18 gennaio prossimo. La Corte dovrà pronunciare la decisione finale entro tre mesi dalla data di presentazione del ricorso, ossia entro il 6 marzo 2024.

      Immediate sono state le reazioni dei due schieramenti politici contrapposti. Mentre gli esponenti del Partito Socialista hanno ribadito il rispetto di tutte le procedure vigenti per la stipula dell’accordo, l’opposizione ha esultato per la parziale vittoria.

      Al suo rientro dal summit Ue-Balcani Occidentali, il premier Rama ha tagliato corto sulla questione durante la conferenza stampa . “È un diritto della Corte Costituzionale [...] quello di esaminare un accordo con uno stato estero. Non ho nulla da aggiungere riguardo ai miei compiti”.
      Fronte comune contro l’accordo

      28 deputati della frazione “Rifondazione” del Partito Democratico (PD), guidata dall’ex premier Sali Berisha, e due del Partito della Libertà dell’ex presidente Ilir Meta hanno presentato il 6 dicembre scorso un ricorso per incostituzionalità del protocollo bilaterale sul trasferimento dei migranti.

      Il gruppo di deputati sostiene che non sia stata rispettata la procedura per la negoziazione e la stipula dell’accordo, in quanto il suo oggetto rientra nelle categorie di accordi che necessitano dell’autorizzazione preventiva del Presidente della Repubblica.

      Oltre alla questione della cessazione temporanea della sovranità territoriale del Porto di Shëngjin e dell’area di Gjadër all’Italia (dove era previsto che arrivassero i migranti), i ricorrenti evidenziano una violazione di almeno due articoli della Costituzione, rispettivamente l’Art. 16 sul principio di uguaglianza tra i cittadini stranieri presenti in Albania e i cittadini albanesi, e l’Art. 27 sulla limitazione ingiusta delle libertà personali, considerato che i migranti verranno detenuti in un’area confinata per un periodo fino a 18 mesi senza un giusto motivo.

      “Abbiamo intentato la causa per proteggere gli interessi dei cittadini. Non si può decidere il destino del nostro Paese violando i diritti umani. Siamo grati al popolo italiano, ma questo non lo riguarda”, ha dichiarato per i media Lindita Metaliaj, deputata del PD.

      Nel suo comunicato stampa, la Corte Costituzionale ha ribadito che i ricorrenti hanno presentato tre richieste consecutive per la sospensione della procedura di ratifica parlamentare dell’accordo.

      Nella mattina del 6 dicembre scorso, oltre al ricorso di Rifondazione, è stato presentato anche un secondo ricorso da parte della frazione moderata che rappresenta ufficialmente il Partito Democratico, guidata da Lulzim Basha.

      In un comunicato stampa, il vicepresidente Kreshnik Çollaku ha dichiarato che “l’accordo [con l’Italia] è stato annunciato in modo strano, senza preavviso, suscitando una logica reazione di preoccupazione, e diventando oggetto di profondo dibattito pubblico sia in [Albania] che in Italia”, ed ha precisato: “In Albania c’è stata mancanza di trasparenza da parte del primo ministro. Rama è riuscito più volte a nascondersi sfruttando il caos parlamentare, evitando il dibattito pubblico”.

      I moderati del PD chiedono alla Corte Costituzionale la dichiarazione di incostituzionalità dell’accordo Rama-Meloni, la sospensione della procedura di ratifica in parlamento e la sua incompatibilità con gli Art. 3, 4 e 7 della Costituzione albanese.

      Uno dei primi “effetti” dell’accordo sui migranti è stato quello di placare lo scontro tra le due frazioni del PD, profondamente diviso e frammentato negli ultimi due anni.
      La maggioranza compatta

      L’opposizione ha tentato in diversi modi di bloccare i lavori delle commissioni parlamentari nelle quali era prevista l’approvazione in prima lettura dell’accordo con l’Italia. Per contrastare le resistenze, le commissioni parlamentari si sono riunite online approvando l’accordo con i soli voti della maggioranza.

      Nel suo intervento il ministro degli Interni Taulant Balla ha sottolineato che attraverso il protocollo si mette a disposizione del governo italiano una superficie di territorio per la realizzazione delle strutture ospitanti degli immigrati irregolari. “Non si tratta di alcuna forma di cessione dei territori, poiché restano territori della Repubblica d’Albania, ma concediamo il diritto all’uso temporaneo di una superficie precedentemente determinata nell’accordo”.

      Dal canto suo il presidente della commissione sicurezza Nasip Naço ha definito le reazioni dell’opposizione come tentativi di protagonismo personale da parte di coloro che hanno perso il senso della politica.

      In seguito alla sospensione dell’accordo, il presidente del gruppo parlamentare socialista, Bledar Çuçi, ha dichiarato che la maggioranza attuerà ogni decisione della Corte Costituzionale, ritenendo che l’accordo sia molto importante “per dimostrare che siamo un paese europeo”.

      Nel corso delle ultime settimane, il premier Rama ha affrontato la questione dell’intesa con l’Italia in diverse occasioni, ribadendo la tesi della solidarietà, seppur riconoscendo il contributo limitato che l’Albania può fornire alla sfida migratoria con cui si sta scontrando l’Ue.

      “L’Albania non può essere la soluzione per risolvere questo problema, ma possiamo dare un aiuto”, ha sottolineato Rama in una intervista per i media albanesi. “Accettando l’accordo agiamo semplicemente come un paese europeo che condivide questa preoccupazione. Sotto l’aspetto politico, aumenta la reputazione dell’Albania”.
      Le reazioni della società civile

      Diversi attivisti della società civile hanno condiviso pubblicamente il proprio scetticismo sull’attuazione pratica dell’accordo, ribadendo la tendenza diffusa tra i paesi Ue di voler esternalizzare le questioni migratorie a scapito del rispetto dei diritti umani. Si teme che la costruzione di due centri nella provincia di Lezha possa avere una ricaduta negativa sul turismo, oltre che un potenziale serio problema per la sicurezza nazionale.

      Un’alleanza di 29 organizzazioni non governative ha rivolto una lettera aperta al governo domandando il suo ritiro dall’accordo con l’Italia. Le organizzazioni esprimono la loro preoccupazione per la mancanza di trasparenza e di consultazioni con i gruppi di interesse.

      Nei primi giorni successivi all’annuncio dell’accordo, hanno avuto luogo alcune sporadiche proteste civiche a bassa partecipazione a Lezha e a Tirana. A favore dell’organizzazione di proteste nazionali si è inizialmente espresso anche il leader di Rifondazione Berisha, obbligato poi a fare dietrofront in seguito alla chiamata del ministro degli Esteri italiano Antonio Tajani.
      Voci fuori dal coro

      Con un effetto a sorpresa, dei 7 comuni guidati dal centro destra, due sindaci - uno del comune di Fushë Arrëz nel nord e l’altro di Memaliaj nel sud del paese - hanno chiesto pubblicamente al premier di ospitare un determinato numero di migranti negli spazi a messi a disposizione nei rispettivi comuni, come previsto dall’intesa con il governo italiano.

      “È il momento di mostrare la nostra ospitalità, basata sull’esperienza e sull’ospitalità che noi immigrati stessi abbiamo trovato da molti anni nei paesi europei”, ha ribadito Albert Malaj , sindaco di Memaliaj, nella sua lettera aperta.

      https://www.balcanicaucaso.org/aree/Albania/Albania-la-Corte-Costituzionale-sospende-l-accordo-Rama-Meloni-22902

    • En Albanie, la Cour constitutionnelle suspend l’accord avec l’Italie sur l’externalisation des demandes d’asile

      La Cour constitutionnelle de Tirana a annoncé mercredi la suspension des procédures parlementaires, censées valider l’accord avec Rome sur l’externalisation des demandeurs d’asile. La Haute Cour estime que le texte viole la Constitution albanaise et les conventions internationales, une circonstance qui nécessite l’arrêt de la ratification parlementaire jusqu’au prochain verdict de la Cour.

      Premier revers pour l’accord entre l’Albanie et l’Italie. La Cour constitutionnelle de Tirana a annoncé mercredi 13 décembre la suspension des procédures parlementaires, qui doivent valider le texte, initialement prévu ce jeudi.

      Le partenariat entre ces deux pays, signé le 6 novembre par la Première ministre italienne Giorgia Meloni et son homologue albanais Edi Rama, prévoit d’envoyer une partie des demandeurs d’asile secourus en Méditerranée centrale dans ce pays, non membre de l’Union européenne (UE). Au total, 30 000 personnes seront envoyées en Albanie sur une période d’un an.

      Le 6 décembre, le Conseil des ministres italiens avait approuvé cet accord, ouvrant la voie à la construction de deux centres en Albanie, pour accueillir les demandeurs d’asile et y examiner leurs dossiers.

      Mais la Haute Cour albanaise a mis un coup d’arrêt au projet. La justice a accepté deux appels, déposés séparément par le Parti démocratique albanais et 28 autres députés alignés aux côtés de l’ancien Premier ministre de centre-droit Sali Berisha, qui suspend automatiquement le texte.

      Les conclusions de la Cour affirment que l’accord viole la Constitution albanaise et les conventions internationales signées par Tirana, une circonstance qui nécessite l’arrêt de la ratification parlementaire jusqu’au prochain verdict de la Cour.

      Le tribunal doit se prononcer dans les trois mois suivant le dépôt du recours, soit le 6 mars 2024. Sa première séance plénière est attendue le 18 janvier.
      « Nous ne vendons pas un morceau de terre albanaise »

      Mercredi, le ministre albanais de l’Intérieur, Taulant Balla, avait défendu son partenariat, estimant qu’il avait « le droit de négocier de tels accords au nom de la République d’Albanie », ajoutant que celui-ci était « entièrement conforme à la constitution ». Le ministre a également répondu aux opposants du projet en affirmant que « nous ne vendons pas un morceau de terre albanaise » à l’Italie. « Nous offrons cette terre à l’Italie comme nous le faisons habituellement, par exemple lorsque nous installons une ambassade », a insisté Taulant Balla.

      La juridiction à l’intérieur du camp sera italienne, mais la terre restera albanaise, a-t-il assuré. L’Italie prendra en charge les coûts du projet, ainsi que les dépenses supplémentaires engagées par la police albanaise pour assurer la sécurité en dehors du périmètre du camp.

      En Italie aussi, cet accord est vivement critiqué. Lors de l’annonce du texte début novembre, le député et secrétaire du parti d’opposition Più Europa, Riccardo Magi, avait déclaré : « On crée une sorte de Guantanamo italien, en dehors de toute norme internationale, en dehors de l’UE, sans la possibilité de contrôler la détention des personnes enfermées dans ces centres ».

      L’ONG Amnesty international évoquait de son côté un partenariat « illégal et irréalisable ». « Il s’agit d’un accord de refoulement, une pratique interdite par les normes européennes et internationales et pour laquelle l’Italie a déjà été condamnée par la Cour européenne des droits de l’Homme », avait déploré Elisa de Pieri d’Amnesty international.

      Du côté de la Commission européenne, en revanche, on se félicite d’un tel accord, jugé conforme aux obligations de l’UE. Dans une lettre adressée aux États membres, la présidente Ursula von der Leyen estime qu’il « s’agit d’un exemple de réflexion originale, basée sur un partage équitable des responsabilités avec les pays tiers ».


      https://www.infomigrants.net/fr/post/53894/en-albanie-la-cour-constitutionnelle-suspend-laccord-avec-litalie-sur-

  • Projet de loi immigration au Royaume-Uni : « Sortir de la Convention européenne des droits de l’homme serait une ineptie » - InfoMigrants
    https://www.infomigrants.net/fr/post/53880/projet-de-loi-immigration-au-royaumeuni--sortir-de-la-convention-europ

    Projet de loi immigration au Royaume-Uni : « Sortir de la Convention européenne des droits de l’homme serait une ineptie »
    Par Louis Chahuneau Publié le : 14/12/2023
    Après un premier rejet de la Cour suprême, le projet de loi controversé du gouvernement britannique pour expulser les migrants illégaux au Rwanda a été adopté mardi par la Chambre des Communes. L’aile droite du parti conservateur estime que Londres devrait se retirer de la Convention européenne des droits de l’Homme pour éviter les recours juridiques. Vincent Chetail, professeur de droit international et directeur du Centre des migrations globales à Genève, explique pourquoi cette proposition relève davantage de la posture politique que d’une solution.
    InfoMigrants : La Chambre des Communes britannique a adopté mardi le projet de loi permettant d’expulser au Rwanda les migrants arrivés illégalement au Royaume-Uni. Pour quelle raison la Cour suprême avait-elle rejeté le texte il y a un mois ?
    Vincent Chetail : La Cour suprême avait jugé que cette législation était incompatible avec le droit international, pour diverses raisons. La première raison, c’était qu’il y a un risque de refoulement illégal par le Rwanda vers le pays d’origine des réfugiés, ce qui reviendrait à une violation par le Royaume Uni de la Convention européenne des droits de l’homme, mais aussi de la convention de Genève sur les réfugiés, du Pacte international relatif aux droits civiques et politiques, et de la Convention contre la torture.
    Par ailleurs, sans préjuger de la bonne foi du Rwanda, la Cour suprême soulevait les difficultés de mettre en œuvre soudainement des procédures d’asile impartiales dans un pays qui n’a pas de procédure prévue à cet effet. Elle notait à cet égard la tendance des tribunaux rwandais à accorder une grande déférence à l’égard du pouvoir exécutif.
    IM : Depuis, le ministre de l’Intérieur anglais s’est rendu au Rwanda pour signer un nouveau traité plus conforme au droit international. Le texte est-il plus susceptible d’être adopté selon vous ?
    VC : Pour essayer d’éluder la condamnation de la Cour suprême, le gouvernement britannique a conclu un traité contraignant avec le Rwanda où il a abordé les deux points de violation évoqués plus haut. Avec ce nouveau texte, le Rwanda devra garder les migrants à l’intérieur de ses frontières même après le rejet de leur demande d’asile, une manière de contourner l’interdiction de la Cour suprême.La compatibilité de ce traité avec le droit international n’en reste pas moins douteuse. La Chambre des Lords va probablement modifier le texte, et celui-ci devrait faire l’objet de nombreux recours devant les tribunaux anglais et le cas échéant la Cour européenne.
    IM : L’aile droite du parti conservateur estime que Londres devrait carrément se retirer de la Convention européenne des droits de l’Homme pour empêcher tous les recours légaux d’aboutir. Qu’est-ce qu’une telle décision impliquerait pour le Royaume-Uni ?
    VC : Cette menace est régulièrement agitée par la droite populiste européenne. L’ancien Premier ministre britannique James Cameron avait déjà soulevé l’idée en 2014. Sortir de la Convention européenne des droits de l’homme serait une ineptie totale. Cela n’impliquerait pas seulement la procédure prévue par le traité, mais surtout des modifications très importantes dans le droit britannique, notamment le Human Rights Act.Le coût politique sera également important puisqu’il faudrait que le Royaume-Uni se retire du Conseil de l’Europe, ce qui le ferait de facto figurer aux côtés de la Russie parmi les États européens non membres du Conseil de l’Europe. Enfin, les principales victimes d’un tel retrait seraient les citoyens britanniques eux-mêmes, car il ne faut pas oublier que la Convention européenne des droits de l’homme protège d’abord et avant tout les ressortissants nationaux. L’autre aspect, moins connu, c’est que l’Accord du Vendredi saint (1998), qui a mis fin à 30 ans de guerre civile en Irlande du nord, repose en grande partie sur la Convention européenne des droits de l’Homme. S’en retirer aurait donc des conséquences politiques et juridiques très importantes, bien au-delà de la question migratoire.
    IM : Au-delà de la Grande Bretagne, l’Italie a signé en novembre un accord avec l’Albanie pour y externaliser une partie de ses procédures d’asile. Ces accords risquent-ils de se multiplier ?
    VC : Le spectre de l’externalisation est souvent agité par les gouvernements populistes, mais en 20 ans, cela n’a jamais abouti car il y a beaucoup de difficultés juridiques. Les gouvernements qui tentent de promouvoir ce type d’arrangements le font surtout à des fins électoralistes. Le protocole conclu entre l’Italie et l’Albanie, par exemple, est contraire au droit européen. Et il met en fâcheuse posture l’Union européenne qui est censée adopter le Pacte européen sur la migration avant les prochaines élections européennes (juin 2024).

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#grandebretagne#rwanda#accordmigratoire#droit#asile#externalisation#CEDH#italie#albanie#UE

  • En Albanie, la Cour constitutionnelle suspend l’accord avec l’Italie sur l’externalisation des demandes d’asile - InfoMigrants
    https://www.infomigrants.net/fr/post/53894/en-albanie-la-cour-constitutionnelle-suspend-laccord-avec-litalie-sur-

    En Albanie, la Cour constitutionnelle suspend l’accord avec l’Italie sur l’externalisation des demandes d’asile
    Par La rédaction Publié le : 14/12/2023
    La Cour constitutionnelle de Tirana a annoncé mercredi la suspension des procédures parlementaires, censées valider l’accord avec Rome sur l’externalisation des demandeurs d’asile. La Haute Cour estime que le texte viole la Constitution albanaise et les conventions internationales, une circonstance qui nécessite l’arrêt de la ratification parlementaire jusqu’au prochain verdict de la Cour.
    Premier revers pour l’accord entre l’Albanie et l’Italie. La Cour constitutionnelle de Tirana a annoncé mercredi 13 décembre la suspension des procédures parlementaires, qui doivent valider le texte, initialement prévu ce jeudi.
    Le partenariat entre ces deux pays, signé le 6 novembre par la Première ministre italienne Giorgia Meloni et son homologue albanais Edi Rama, prévoit d’envoyer une partie des demandeurs d’asile secourus en Méditerranée centrale dans ce pays, non membre de l’Union européenne (UE). Au total, 30 000 personnes seront envoyées en Albanie sur une période d’un an. Le 6 décembre, le Conseil des ministres italiens avait approuvé cet accord, ouvrant la voie à la construction de deux centres en Albanie, pour accueillir les demandeurs d’asile et y examiner leurs dossiers. Mais la Haute Cour albanaise a mis un coup d’arrêt au projet. La justice a accepté deux appels, déposés séparément par le Parti démocratique albanais et 28 autres députés alignés aux côtés de l’ancien Premier ministre de centre-droit Sali Berisha, qui suspend automatiquement le texte.
    Les conclusions de la Cour affirment que l’accord viole la Constitution albanaise et les conventions internationales signées par Tirana, une circonstance qui nécessite l’arrêt de la ratification parlementaire jusqu’au prochain verdict de la Cour.Le tribunal doit se prononcer dans les trois mois suivant le dépôt du recours, soit le 6 mars 2024. Sa première séance plénière est attendue le 18 janvier.
    Mercredi, le ministre albanais de l’Intérieur, Taulant Balla, avait défendu son partenariat, estimant qu’il avait « le droit de négocier de tels accords au nom de la République d’Albanie », ajoutant que celui-ci était « entièrement conforme à la constitution ». Le ministre a également répondu aux opposants du projet en affirmant que « nous ne vendons pas un morceau de terre albanaise » à l’Italie. « Nous offrons cette terre à l’Italie comme nous le faisons habituellement, par exemple lorsque nous installons une ambassade », a insisté Taulant Balla. La juridiction à l’intérieur du camp sera italienne, mais la terre restera albanaise, a-t-il assuré. L’Italie prendra en charge les coûts du projet, ainsi que les dépenses supplémentaires engagées par la police albanaise pour assurer la sécurité en dehors du périmètre du camp. En Italie aussi, cet accord est vivement critiqué. Lors de l’annonce du texte début novembre, le député et secrétaire du parti d’opposition Più Europa, Riccardo Magi, avait déclaré : « On crée une sorte de Guantanamo italien, en dehors de toute norme internationale, en dehors de l’UE, sans la possibilité de contrôler la détention des personnes enfermées dans ces centres ». L’ONG Amnesty international évoquait de son côté un partenariat « illégal et irréalisable ». « Il s’agit d’un accord de refoulement, une pratique interdite par les normes européennes et internationales et pour laquelle l’Italie a déjà été condamnée par la Cour européenne des droits de l’Homme », avait déploré Elisa de Pieri d’Amnesty international. Du côté de la Commission européenne, en revanche, on se félicite d’un tel accord, jugé conforme aux obligations de l’UE. Dans une lettre adressée aux États membres, la présidente Ursula von der Leyen estime qu’il « s’agit d’un exemple de réflexion originale, basée sur un partage équitable des responsabilités avec les pays tiers ».

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#italie#albanie#accordmigratoire#asile#externalisation#refoulement#droit#sante#UE

  • Improving the humanitarian situation of refugees, migrants and asylum seekers in #Calais and #Dunkirk areas

    The report presented by #Stephanie_Krisper (Austria, ALDE) to the Migration Committee, meeting in Paris, highlighted that the basic needs of a high number of refugees, migrants and asylum seekers in the areas of Calais and Dunkirk (France), were not met. It mentions in particular insufficient places of accommodation situated in remote places that are difficult to access, problematic access to food and water with insufficient and overcrowded distribution points, deficient access to non-food items such as blankets or tents, and limited access to healthcare.

    This report follows a fact-finding visit carried out on 25 and 26 October 2023 by a parliamentary delegation chaired by Ms Krisper, whose objective was to examine the situation of asylum seekers and migrants as well as their defenders in the city of Calais and its surroundings.

    It underlines that these people are stuck in Calais and Dunkirk areas mainly because they have nowhere to go and generally cannot return to their country of origin, a situation exacerbated by the inadequacy of the formal reception system, the lack of information about asylum seekers’ rights as well as cumbersome and long procedures.

    Faced with “this appalling situation, especially since winter is here”, the parliamentarians recommend urgently increasing humanitarian and health assistance through additional volunteers and resources for the associations acting on spot, especially the non-mandated structures. The dignity and fundamental rights of these people must be preserved, and violations and harassments committed by police forces must end, they added.

    The report also warns of the danger these people face by risking their lives when crossing the Channel to the United Kingdom, at the mercy of criminal smuggling networks.

    Finally, the parliamentarians call for a shared responsibility between all European countries, “in order not to leave the burden to countries on the external border of the EU, where congestions points are observed”.

    In addition to its President, Ms Krisper, the delegation was composed of Jeremy Corbyn (United Kingdom, SOC), Emmanuel Fernandes (France, GUE), Pierre-Alain Fridez (Switzerland, SOC) and Sandra Zampa (Italy, SOC).

    Pour télécharger le rapport:
    https://rm.coe.int/report-of-the-ad-hoc-sub-committee-to-carry-out-a-fact-finding-visit-t/1680adaf30

    https://pace.coe.int/en/news/9317/improving-the-humanitarian-situation-of-refugees-migrants-and-asylum-seeke
    #France #Manche #La_Manche #asile #migrations #réfugiés #rapport #visite_parlementaire #Dunkerque #frontières #hébergement #accès_à_l'eau #besoins_fondamentaux #nourriture #accès_à_la_nourriture #accès_aux_soins #santé #droits_fondamentaux #dignité #violences_policières #harcèlement_policier #harcèlement #traversée #passeurs #trafiquants_d'êtres_humains #conseil_de_l'Europe

  • People are beaten, sexually abused and killed in Libyan detention centres

    Refugees, asylum seekers and migrants held inside detention centres in Tripoli, Libya, have been assaulted, sexually abused, beaten, killed and systematically deprived of the most basic humane conditions, including proper access to food, water, sanitation and medical care, says Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF).

    MSF calls for an end to arbitrary detention in Libya, and calls for all refugees, asylum seekers and migrants to be released from detention centres and provided with meaningful protection, safe shelter and to safe and legal pathways out of Libya.

    Over the course of 2023, until MSF ended medical activities in Tripoli in August, our teams witnessed and documented living conditions and abuses inside Abu Salim and Ain Zara detention centres, where thousands of people, including women and children, continue to be arbitrarily detained. Our findings are contained in a report – “You’re going to die here” – Abuse in Abu Salim and Ain Zara detention centres – published by MSF today.

    “We continue to be horrified by what we saw in Abu Salim and Ain Zara detention,” says Federica Franco, MSF head of mission for Libya. “People are utterly dehumanised, exposed every day to cruel and degrading conditions and treatment.”

    According to our teams who provided medical care in both centres, mass and indiscriminate violence was frequently used by guards, often as a punishment for disobeying orders, requesting medical care, asking for extra food or in retaliation to protests or attempted escapes.

    In Abu Salim detention centre, where only women and children are held, women spoke of how they were subjected to strip searches, intimate body searches, beatings, sexual assault and rape. These abuses were perpetrated by guards but also by men, often armed, who were brought in from outside the detention centre.

    “That night, she [the guard] took us to another room in the prison, where there were men without uniforms, but maybe they were guards or policemen,” says a woman detained in Abu Salim. “When it was my turn, the woman told me that if I had sex with him, I could get out.

    “I started screaming. She pulled me out and hit me with a pipe and I was taken back to the big room with the other women. There she told me: ‘You’re going to die here.’”

    In Ain Zara detention centre, detained men told MSF staff about practices of forced labour, extortion and other human rights abuses, including the deaths of at least five people due to violence or lack of access to lifesaving medical care.

    Our teams documented 71 violent incidents that took place between January and July 2023, with medics treating injuries including bone fractures, wounds on arms and legs, black eyes and impaired vision.

    Detained people reported that violence was regularly combined with various forms of intimidation and degrading treatment, such as dirty water and sewage being thrown at women and children, meals being withheld as a form of punishment, and being forced to spend days without light.

    “Hundreds of people are crammed into cells so overcrowded that they are forced to sleep in a sitting position, with sewage spills from overflowing septic tanks and clogged toilets,” says Franco. “There is not enough food and there is too little water to drink or wash with. Combined with the awful conditions, this has contributed to the spread of infectious diseases such as acute watery diarrhoea, scabies and chicken pox.”

    Essential relief items such as clothing, mattresses, hygiene kits, blankets, diapers and baby milk formula were distributed only irregularly and were reportedly regularly confiscated by the guards. In Abu Salim detention centre, MSF teams saw the impact on babies’ skin from makeshift diapers made from towels and plastic bags, and from the prolonged use of diapers. Women said they were forced to use pieces of blanket or torn-up T-shirts as makeshift tampons and sanitary pads.

    On top of the dire living conditions and inhumane treatment, people held in Abu Salim and Ain Zara were regularly denied access to lifesaving medical care and humanitarian assistance. MSF teams were denied access to both detention centres, and to individual cells within the centres, dozens of times.

    While in Abu Salim, our teams documented more than 62 incidents of interference in our medical assistance, including breaches of medical confidentiality and the confiscation of essential relief items.

    MSF lost access to Ain Zara detention centre completely in early July, and to Abu Salim detention centre in August 2023. This loss of access and frequent obstructions to the provision of principled humanitarian assistance were a contributing factor to our decision to end activities in Tripoli.

    “After seven years of providing medical and humanitarian assistance in Tripoli, the appalling situation we have witnessed in Libya’s detention centres is a direct reverberation of Europe’s harmful migration policies aimed at preventing people from leaving Libya at all costs and forcefully returning them to a country that is not safe for them,” says Franco.

    https://www.msf.org/people-are-beaten-sexually-abused-and-killed-libyan-detention-centres
    #Libye #centres_de_détention #détention #abus_sexuels #torture #violence #migrations #asile #réfugiés

  • #Niger : Europe’s Migration Laboratory
    (publié en 2018, pour archivage ici)

    Mahamane Ousmane is an unrepentant people smuggler. He makes no effort to deny transporting migrants “countless times” across the Sahara into Libya. When he is released from prison in Niger’s desert city of Agadez, he intends to return to the same work.

    The 32-year-old is even more adamant he has done nothing wrong. “I don’t like criminals. I am no thief. I have killed no one,” he says.

    As Ousmane speaks, a small circle of fellow inmates in filthy football shirts and flip-flops murmur in agreement. The prison at Agadez, where the French once stabled their horses in colonial times, now houses an increasing number of people smugglers. These “passeurs,” as they are known in French, have found themselves on the wrong side of a recent law criminalizing the movement of migrants north of Agadez.

    Aji Dan Chef Halidou, the prison director who has gathered the group in his office, does his best to explain. “Driving migrants out into the Sahara is very dangerous, that’s why it is now illegal,” he interjects.

    Ousmane, a member of the Tubu tribe, an ethnic group that straddles the border between Niger and Libya, is having none of it. “Nobody ever got hurt driving with me,” he insists. “You just have to drive at night because in the day the sun can kill people.”

    A powerfully built man who speaks in emphatic bursts of English and Hausa, Ousmane worked in the informal gold mines of Djado in northern Niger until they were closed by the military. Then he borrowed money to buy a pickup truck and run the route from Agadez to Sebha in Libya. His confiscated truck is now sinking into the sand at the nearby military base, along with more than 100 others taken from people smugglers. Ousmane still owes nearly $9,000 on the Toyota Hilux and has a family to support. “There is no alternative so I will go back to work,” he says.

    “We need to implement this law gently as many people were living off migration and they were promised compensation by Europe for leaving it behind, but this hasn’t happened yet.”

    While the temperature outside in the direct sun nears 120F (50C), the air conditioner in the warden’s office declares its intention to get to 60F (16C). It will not succeed. As mosquitoes circle overhead, Halidou’s earlier enthusiasm for the law evaporates. “Agadez has always been a crossroads where people live from migration,” he says. “We need to implement this law gently as many people were living off migration and they were promised compensation by Europe for leaving it behind, but this hasn’t happened yet.”

    Ali Diallo, the veteran among the inmates, blames Europe for his predicament. Originally from Senegal, he made his way across West Africa to Libya working in construction. His life there fell apart after the Western-backed ouster of the Gadhafi regime. The steady supply of work became more dangerous and his last Libyan employer shot him in the leg instead of paying him at the end of a job.

    “In Senegal there are no jobs, in Mali there are no jobs, but there were jobs in Libya and that was all right,” he says. “Then the West killed Gadhafi and now they want to stop migration.” Diallo retreated two years ago to Agadez and found a job as a tout or “coxeur” matching migrants with drivers. This was what he was arrested for. He has a question: “Didn’t the Europeans think about what would happen after Gadhafi?”

    The Little Red Town

    Niger is prevented from being the poorest country in the world only by the depth of misery in Central African Republic. It was second from bottom in last year’s U.N. Human Development Index. Niamey, the country’s humid capital on the banks of the River Niger, has a laid-back feeling and its population only recently passed the 1 million mark.

    But the city’s days as a forgotten backwater are coming to an end.

    Along the Boulevard de la Republique, past the machine-gun nests that block approaches to the presidential palace, concrete harbingers of change are rising from the reddish Saharan dust. Saudi Arabia and the U.S. have vast new embassy complexes under construction that will soon overshadow those of Libya and France, the two traditional rivals for influence in Niger.

    Further north in the Plateau neighborhood, the development aid complex is spreading out, much of it funded by the European Union.

    “What do all these foreigners want from our little red town?” a senior Niger government adviser asked.

    In the case of the E.U. the answer is clear. Three-quarters of all African migrants arriving by boat in Italy in recent years transited Niger. As one European ambassador said, “Niger is now the southern border of Europe.”

    Federica Mogherini, the closest the 28-member E.U. has to a foreign minister, chose Niger for her first trip to Africa in 2015. The visit was seen as a reward for the Niger government’s passage of Law 36 in May that year that effectively made it illegal for foreign nationals to travel north of Agadez.

    “We share an interest in managing migration in the best possible way, for both Europe and Africa,” Mogherini said at the time.

    Since then, she has referred to Niger as the “model” for how other transit countries should manage migration and the best performer of the five African nations who signed up to the E.U. Partnership Framework on Migration – the plan that made development aid conditional on cooperation in migration control. Niger is “an initial success story that we now want to replicate at regional level,” she said in a recent speech.

    Angela Merkel became the first German chancellor to visit the country in October 2016. Her trip followed a wave of arrests under Law 36 in the Agadez region. Merkel promised money and “opportunities” for those who had previously made their living out of migration.

    One of the main recipients of E.U. funding is the International Organization for Migration (IOM), which now occupies most of one street in Plateau. In a little over two years the IOM headcount has gone from 22 to more than 300 staff.

    Giuseppe Loprete, the head of mission, says the crackdown in northern Niger is about more than Europe closing the door on African migrants. The new law was needed as networks connecting drug smuggling and militant groups were threatening the country, and the conditions in which migrants were forced to travel were criminal.

    Loprete echoes Mogherini in saying that stopping “irregular migration” is about saving lives in the desert. The IOM has hired community officers to warn migrants of the dangers they face farther north.

    “Libya is hell and people who go there healthy lose their minds,” Loprete says.

    A side effect of the crackdown has been a sharp increase in business for IOM, whose main activity is a voluntary returns program. Some 7,000 African migrants were sent home from Niger last year, up from 1,400 in 2014. More than 2,000 returns in the first three months of 2018 suggest another record year.

    Loprete says European politicians must see that more legal routes are the only answer to containing irregular migration, but he concludes, “Europe is not asking for the moon, just for managed migration.”

    The person who does most of the asking is Raul Mateus Paula, the E.U.’s top diplomat in Niamey. This relatively unheralded country that connects West and North Africa is now the biggest per capita recipient of E.U. aid in the world. The European Development Fund awarded $731 million to Niger for the period 2014–20. A subsequent review boosted this by a further $108 million. Among the experiments this money bankrolls are the connection of remote border posts – where there was previously no electricity – to the internet under the German aid corporation, GIZ; a massive expansion of judges to hear smuggling and trafficking cases; and hundreds of flatbed trucks, off-road vehicles, motorcycles and satellite phones for Nigerien security forces.

    This relatively unheralded country that connects West and North Africa is now the biggest per capita recipient of E.U. aid in the world.

    Normally, when foreign aid is directed to countries with endemic corruption – Transparency International ranks Niger 112th out of 180 countries worldwide – it is channeled through nongovernmental organizations. Until 2014 the E.U. gave only one-third of its aid to Niger in direct budget support; in this cycle, 75 percent of its aid goes straight into government coffers. Paula calls the E.U. Niger’s “number one partner” and sees no divergence in their interests on security, development or migration.

    But not everyone agrees that European and Nigerien interests align. Julien Brachet, an expert on the Sahel and Sahara, argues that the desire to stop Europe-bound migration as far upstream as possible has made Niger, and particularly Agadez, the “perfect target” for E.U. migration policies. These policies, he argues, have taken decades-old informal migration routes and made them clandestine and more dangerous. A fellow at the French National Research Institute for Development, Brachet accuses the E.U. of “manufacturing smugglers” with the policies it has drafted to control them.

    Niger, which has the fastest-growing population in the world, is a fragile setting for grand policy experiments. Since independence from France in 1960 it has witnessed four coups, the last of which was in 2010. The regular overthrow of governments has seen political parties proliferate, while the same cast of politicians remains. The current president, Mahamadou Issoufou, has run in every presidential election since 1993. His latest vehicle, the Party for Democracy and Socialism, is one of more than 50 active parties. The group’s headquarters stands out from the landscape in Niamey thanks to giant streamers, in the party’s signature pink, draped over the building.

    The biggest office in the pink house belongs to Mohamed Bazoum, Niger’s interior minister and its rising political star. When European diplomats mention who they deal with in the Nigerien government, his name is invariably heard.

    “We are in a moment with a lot of international attention,” Bazoum says. “We took measures to control migration and this has been appreciated especially by our European partners.”

    Since the crackdown, the number of migrants passing checkpoints between Niamey and Agadez has dropped from 350 per day, he claims, to 160 a week.

    “We took away many people’s livelihoods,” he says, “but we have to say that the economy was linked to banditry and connected to other criminal activities.”

    “Since independence, we never had a government that served so many foreign interests,”

    E.U. officials say privately that Bazoum has taken to issuing shopping lists, running to helicopters and vehicles, of goods he expects in return for continued cooperation.
    By contrast, the World Food Programme, which supports the roughly one in ten of Niger’s population who face borderline malnutrition, has received only 34 percent of the funding it needs for 2018.

    At least three E.U. states – France, Italy and Germany – have troops on the ground in Niger. Their roles range from military advisers to medics and trainers. French forces and drone bases are present as part of the overlapping Barkhane and G5 Sahel counterinsurgency operations which includes forces from Burkina Faso, Chad, Mali and Mauritania. The U.S., meanwhile, has both troops and drone bases for its own regional fight against Islamic militants, the latest of which is being built outside Agadez at a cost of more than $100 million.

    “Since independence, we never had a government that served so many foreign interests,” says Hamadou Tcherno Boulama, a civil society activist. His organization, Alternative Espaces Citoyens, often has an armed police presence outside its gates these days to prevent people gathering. Four of Niger’s main civil society leaders were jailed in late March after 35,000 people took to the streets in Niamey in the biggest demonstrations Niger has seen in a decade. Much of the public anger is directed against this year’s budget, which hiked taxes on staples such as rice and sugar.

    Foreign aid accounts for 45 percent of Niger’s budget, so the austerity budget at a time of peak foreign interest has stoked local anger.

    Boulama calls Bazoum “the minister of repression” and says Issoufou has grown fond of foreign travel and spends so little time in Niger that his nickname is “Rimbo” – Niger’s best-known international bus company.

    “Issoufou uses international support related to migration and security issues to fortify his power,” Boulama says.

    The E.U. and the International Monetary Fund have praised the government for this year’s budget, saying it will ease dependence on donors. The most that European diplomats will concede is that the Nigerien government is “bloated” with 43 ministers, each with an expensive retinue.

    European leaders’ “focus on migration is 100 percent,” says Kirsi Henriksson, the outgoing head of EUCAP Sahel, one of those E.U. agencies that few Europeans have ever heard of. When it was conceived, its brief was to deliver a coordinated strategy to meet the jihadi threat in Mali, but its mandate changed recently to prioritize migration. Since then its international staff has trebled.

    Henriksson, whose term ended in April, compares the security and development push to a train where everything must move at the same speed: “If the carriages become too far apart the train will crash,” she says.

    As one of the few Europeans to have visited the border area between Libya and Niger, she is concerned that some European politicians have unrealistic expectations of what is achievable. The border post at Tummo is loosely controlled by ethnic Tubu militia from southern Libya and no Nigerien forces are present.

    “Ungoverned spaces” confuse some E.U. leaders, she says, who want to know how much it will cost to bring the border under control. These kinds of questions ignore both the conditions and scale of the Sahara. On the wall of Henriksson’s office is a large map of the region. It shows the emerald green of West Africa, veined with the blue of its great rivers, fading slowly to pale yellow as you look north. If you drew a line along the map where the Saharan yellow displaces all other colors, it would run right through Agadez. North of that line is a sea of sand nearly four times the size of the Mediterranean.

    The Development Delusion

    Bashir Amma’s retirement from the smuggling business made him an Agadez celebrity after he plowed his past earnings into a local soccer team, where he makes a show of recruiting migrant players. Bashir once ran a ghetto, the connection houses where migrants would wait until a suitable ride north could be found. These days a handful of relatives are the only occupants of a warren of rooms leading off a courtyard amid the adobe walls of the old town.

    He is the president of the only officially recognized association of ex-passeurs and has become the poster boy for the E.U.-funded effort to convert smugglers into legitimate business people. The scheme centers on giving away goods such as cheap motorcycles, refrigerators or livestock up to a value of $2,700 to an approved list of people who are judged to have quit the migration business.

    Bashir is accustomed to European questioners and holds court on a red, black and gold sofa in a parlor decorated with framed verses from the Quran, plastic flowers and a clutch of E.U. lanyards hanging from a fuse box. Flanked by the crutches he has used to get around since a botched injection as a child left him with atrophied legs, he says his conscience led him to give up smuggling. But the more he talks, the more his disenchantment with his conversion seeps out.

    Some of his colleagues have kept up their trade but are now plying different, more dangerous routes to avoid detection. “The law has turned the desert into a cemetery, for African passengers and for drivers as well,” Bashir says.

    You either have to be foolhardy or rich to keep working, Bashir says, because the cost of bribing the police has increased since Law 36 was implemented. As he talks, the two phones on the table in front of him vibrate constantly. His public profile means everyone is looking to him to help them get European money.

    “I’m the president but I don’t know what to tell them. Some are even accusing me of stealing the money for myself,” he says.

    His anxious monologue is interrupted by the appearance of man in a brilliant white suit and sandals at the doorway. Bashir introduces him as “one of the most important passeurs in Agadez.”

    The visitor dismisses the E.U. compensation scheme as “foolish” and “pocket money,” saying he earns more money in a weekend. The police are trying to stop the smugglers, he says, but they do not patrol more than 10 miles (15km) outside the city limits. When asked about army patrols north of Agadez, he replies, “the desert is a big place.”

    After he leaves, Bashir hints darkly at continuing corruption in the security forces, saying some smugglers are freer to operate than others. The old way was effectively taxed through an open system of payments at checkpoints; it is unrealistic to expect this to disappear because of a change in the law.

    “We know that the E.U. has given big money to the government of Niger, we’re seeing plenty of projects opening here,” he says. “But still, one year after the conversion program launched, we’re waiting to receive the money promised.”

    But his biggest frustration is reserved for the slow pace of compensation efforts. “We know that the E.U. has given big money to the government of Niger, we’re seeing plenty of projects opening here,” he says. “But still, one year after the conversion program launched, we’re waiting to receive the money promised.”

    Even the lucky few who make it onto the list for the Action Plan for Rapid Economic Impact in Agadez (PAIERA) are not getting what they really need, which is jobs, he says. The kits are goods to support a small business idea, not a promise of longer-term employment.

    “National authorities don’t give a damn about us,” he says. “We asked them to free our jailed colleagues, to give us back the seized vehicles, but nothing came.”

    There is a growing anti-E.U. sentiment in Agadez, Bashir warns, and the people are getting tired. “Almost every week planes land with leaders from Niamey or Europe. They come and they bring nothing,” he says.

    Agadez is not a stranger to rebellions. The scheme to convert smugglers is run by the same government department tasked with patching up the wreckage left by the Tuareg rebellion, the latest surge of northern resentment at perceived southern neglect that ended in 2009. The scheme sought to compensate ex-combatants and to reduce tensions amid the mass return of pro-Gadhafi fighters and migrant workers that followed from Libya, in 2011 and 2012. Many of them were ethnic Tubu and Tuareg who brought vehicles and desert know-how with them.

    The offices of the High Authority for the Consolidation of Peace in the capital have the air of a place where there has not been much to do lately. Two men doze on couches in the entrance hall. Inside, Jacques Herve is at his desk, the picture of a well-ironed French bureaucrat. He bristles at the accusation that the PAIERA program has failed.

    “The media has often been negative about the conversion program, but they have not always had the right information,” he says. Herve is one of the legion of French functionaries rumored to be seconded to every nook of Niger’s government, and is well-versed in the complaints common in Agadez.

    “During the preparatory phase, people did not see anything, so they were frustrated, but now they are starting to see concrete progress,” he says.

    Herve says 108 small business kits have been given out while another 186 were due to be handed over. When a small number of four-person projects are added in, the total number of people who have been helped is 371. The pilot for the conversion scheme that Bashir and others are waiting on is worth just $800,000.

    If the program was rolled out to all 5,118 ex-smugglers on the long list, it would cost $13 million in funding over the next three years, according to a letter sent to the E.U. Delegation in Niamey. There are other E.U.-funded cash-for-jobs schemes worth another $7 million in Agadez, but these are not related to the former passeur.

    This leaves an apparent mismatch in funding between security, in effect enforcement, and development spending, or compensation. The E.U. Trust Fund for Africa, which European leaders have earmarked to address the “root causes” of migration, has allocated $272 million in Niger.

    Money, Herve acknowledges, is not the problem. He says the principle has been to “do no harm” and avoid channeling funds to organized smuggling kingpins. He also says the task of compiling a roll call of all the workers in an informal economy in a region larger than France had been enormous. “The final list may not be perfect but at least it exists,” he says.

    Herve’s struggles are part of the E.U.’s wider problem. The bloc has pushed for the mainstay of northern Niger’s economy to be criminalized but it remains wary of compensating the individuals and groups it has helped to brand as criminals. There is no precedent for demolishing an informal economy in one of the world’s poorest countries and replacing it with a formal model. Some 60 percent of Niger’s GDP comes from the informal sector, according to the World Bank.

    As a senior government adviser put it, “When you slap a child you cannot ask it not to cry.”

    According to an E.U. official who followed the program, “the law was imposed in a brutal way, without any prior consultation, in a process where the government of Niger was heavily pressured by the E.U., France and Germany, with a minimal consideration of the fact Nigerien security forces are involved in this traffic.”

    “exodants” – a French word used locally to denote economic migrants who fled poverty and conflict in northern Niger to work in Libya or Algeria.

    The group listens as Awal presents the latest draft of an eight-page plan featuring carpentry, restoration, tailoring and sheep-farming ideas. Making it a reality would cost $160,000, they estimate.

    “Some of us have been jailed, some vehicles are lying uselessly under the sun in the military base, but the reality is that we don’t know any other job than this.”

    All those present listen and pledge to respect the new law but they are not happy. The oldest man in the group, a Tuareg with a calm and deep voice, speaks up, “Some of us have been jailed, some vehicles are lying uselessly under the sun in the military base, but the reality is that we don’t know any other job than this,” he says.

    Then his tone turns bitter, “I feel like we have been rejected and the option to move to Libya, like we did in the past, is not there anymore.” Before he can finish, one of the frequent Agadez power cuts strikes, leaving everyone sitting in darkness.

    Unintended Consequences

    Alessandra Morelli uses the fingers of her right hand to list the emergencies engulfing Niger. The country representative of the U.N. Refugee Agency (UNHCR) starts with her little finger to represent the 240,000 people displaced by the Boko Haram crisis in Niger’s southeast. Next is the Malian refugee crisis in the regions of Tillabery and Tahoua, a strip of land that stretches northeast of the capital, along the border with Mali, where 65,000 people have fled conflict into Niger. Her middle finger is the situation along the border with Algeria where migrants from all over West Africa are being pushed back or deported, often violently, into Niger. Her index finger stands for the thousands of refugees and migrants who have retreated back into Niger across the border from Libya. And her thumb represents the refugees the U.N. has evacuated from Libya’s capital Tripoli under a tenuous plan to process them in Niger ahead of resettlement to Europe.

    “I can no more tell you which is more important than I can choose a finger I don’t need,” says Morelli, the survivor of a roadside bombing in Somalia.

    Her depiction of a country beset by emergencies is at odds with the E.U. officials who talk of security and development benefits for Niger from its burgeoning international partnerships. UNHCR opened its office in Niger in 2012 and had been attempting to identify refugees and asylum cases among the much larger northward flow of economic migrants. The agency already has tens of thousands of refugees scattered across camps in the region, where many have already been in the queue for resettlement to the rich world for more than 15 years.

    Her depiction of a country beset by emergencies is at odds with the E.U. officials who talk of security and development benefits for Niger from its burgeoning international partnerships.

    A delicate negotiation with the government of Niger – which is aware that European money and plaudits flow from stopping migrants, not identifying more refugees – led to a fledgling project in Agadez, which in partnership with IOM was meant to identify a small number of test cases.

    But the concentration of international resources in Agadez can also have unintended side effects and the UNHCR guest houses were overwhelmed soon after they opened their doors.
    In December a trickle of young Sudanese men started to appear at the IOM transit center. When they made it clear they did not want passage home to Darfur, they were moved into the guest houses as soon as these opened in January. Hundreds more Sudanese quickly followed, the majority of them from Darfur but some from as far away as South Sudan. Most of them had spent half a lifetime in camps in Sudan or Chad and brought with them stories of hardship, abuse and torture in Libya, where they said they had either worked or been seeking passage to Europe.

    By February the first of the men’s families started to arrive, some from Libya and others from camps in neighboring Chad or from Darfur itself. By the time the number of Sudanese passed 500, UNHCR and its partner – an Italian NGO, COOPI – saw their funds exhausted. The influx continued.

    By early March more than 1,500 Sudanese had gathered in Agadez, many camped in front of the government’s office for refugees. The government of Niger wanted to expel them, said an E.U. security adviser. They were suspicious of possible links with Darfuri rebel groups who have been active in southern Libya. “They gave them a 10-day deadline to leave then revoked it only after a delicate negotiation,” the security adviser said.

    Rumors that the Sudanese were demobilized fighters from the Justice and Equality Movement and Sudan Liberation Army-Minni Minawi spread in Agadez. In the comment section of local media outlet Air Info, anger has been rising. “Agadez is not a dumping ground,” wrote one person, while another said, “we’re tired of being Europe’s dustbin.”

    Still only 21 years old, Yacob Ali is also tired. He has been on the run since he was 8 years old, first escaping the bombs of Sudanese government forces in al-Fasher, northern Darfur. He remembers battling for a tent in Zam Zam, one of the world’s biggest camps for displaced people. The eldest of six children, he left for Libya at 20, hoping to find a job. After being abused and exploited on a farm outside Murzuq, an oasis town in southern Libya, he decided “to cross the sea.”

    Agadez is not a dumping ground,” wrote one person, while another said, “we’re tired of being Europe’s dustbin.

    Once again there was no escape and “after hours on a dinghy,” Ali says, “a Libyan vessel with plainclothes armed men forced us back.”

    For the next five months he was trapped in a warehouse in Tripoli, where he and hundreds of others were sold into forced labor. Eventually he managed to free himself and was told that Agadez “was a safe place.”

    Any hopes Ali or other Sudanese may have harbored that Agadez with its presence of international agencies might offer a swifter and safer route to resettlement are vanishing.
    “For refugees who are stuck in Libya, coming to Niger is the only way to safety and protection,” Morelli says, “but it’s difficult to offer them a real solution.”

    Fears that the Sudanese may be deported en masse intensified in early May, when 132 of them were arrested and removed from the city by Nigerien authorities. They were transported to Madama, a remote military outpost in the northern desert, before being forcibly pushed over the border into Libya.

    The accusation that Niger has become a dumping ground for unwanted Africans has become harder for the government to dismiss over the past six months as its neighbor Algeria has stepped up a campaign of pushbacks and deportations along the desert border. Arbitrary arrests and deportations of West Africans working without documents have long been a feature of Algeria’s economy, but the scale of current operations has surprised observers.

    Omar Sanou’s time in Algeria ended abruptly. The Gambian, who worked in construction as a day laborer, was stopped on the street one evening by police. When he asked for the chance to go to his digs and collect his things he was told by officers he was just going to a registration center and would be released later. Another policeman told him he was African, so had “no right to make money out of Algeria.”

    That is when he knew for sure he would be deported.

    Without ever seeing a court or a lawyer, Sanou found himself with dozens of other migrants on a police bus driving east from the Algerian city of Tamanrasset. The men had been stripped of their belongings, food and water.

    The bus stopped in a place in the desert with no signs and they were told the nearest shelter was 15 miles (25km) away. Although several of the men in his group died on the ensuing march, Sanou was lucky. Other groups have been left more than 30 miles from the border. Some men talk of drinking their own urine to survive, and reports of beatings and gunshot wounds are common. As many as 600 migrants have arrived in a single day at Assamaka border post, the only outpost of the Nigerien state in the vast Tamesna desert, where IOM recently opened an office. Survivors such as Sanou have found themselves at the IOM transit center in Agadez where there is food, shelter, healthcare and psychological support for those willing to abandon the road north and go home.

    After nearly five years, Sanou now faces returning home to Gambia empty-handed. The money he earned during the early years of his odyssey was given to his little brother more than a year ago to pay his way north from Agadez. Now 35 and looking older than his age, he admits to feeling humiliated but refuses to despair. “A man’s downfall is not his end,” he says.

    After nearly five years, Sanou faces returning home to Gambia empty-handed. Now 35 and looking older than his age, he admits to feeling humiliated but refuses to despair. “A man’s downfall is not his end.”

    Algeria’s brutal campaign has hardly drawn comment from the E.U., and a Nigerien diplomat said U.S. and European anti-migrant rhetoric is being parroted by Algerian officials. At a recent gathering of Algerian military commanders, discussions centered on the need to “build a wall.”

    The perception among senior figures in the Niger government that they have allowed themselves to become a soft touch for unwanted refugees and migrants has created acute tension elsewhere.

    In March a small-scale effort to evacuate the most vulnerable refugees from Tripoli to Niamey before processing them for resettlement in Europe was suspended. The deal with UNHCR hinged on departures for Europe matching arrivals from Libya. When only 25 refugees were taken in by France, the government of Niger pulled the plug. It has been partially reactivated but refugee arrivals at 913 far outweigh departures for the E.U. at 107. Some reluctant E.U. governments have sent asylum teams to Niamey that are larger in number than the refugees they are prepared to resettle. Meanwhile, people who have suffered horrifically in Libya are left in limbo. They include a Somali mother now in Niamey whose legs are covered in the cigarette burns she withstood daily in Libya at the hands of torturers who said they would start on her two-year-old daughter if she could not take the pain.

    The knock-on effects of the experiments in closing Niger as a migration corridor are not felt only by foreigners. Next to the rubbish dump in Agadez, a few hundred yards from the airstrip, is a no-man’s land where the city’s landless poor are allowed to pitch lean-to shelters. This is where Fatima al-Husseini, a gaunt 60-year-old, lives with her toddler granddaughter Malika. Her son Soumana Abdullahi was a fledgling passeur who took the job after failing to find any other work.

    What had always been a risky job has become potentially more deadly as police and army patrols have forced smugglers off the old roads where there are wells and into the deep desert. Abdullahi’s friends and fellow drivers cannot be sure what happened to him but his car got separated from a three-vehicle convoy on a night drive and appears to have broken down. It took them hours to find the vehicle and its human cargo but Abdullahi had struck out for help into the desert and disappeared.

    His newly widowed wife had to return to her family and could support only two of their three children, so Malika came to live with al-Husseini. Tears look incongruous on her tough and weatherworn face but she cries as she remembers that the family had been close to buying a small house before her son died.

    Epilogue

    All that remains of Mamadou Makka is his phone. The only traces on the scratched handset of the optimistic and determined young Guinean are a few songs he liked and some contacts. It is Ousman Ba’s most treasured possession. “I have been hungry and refused to sell it,” he says, sitting on the mud floor of a smuggler’s ghetto outside Agadez.

    Makka and Ba became friends on the road north to the Sahara; they had never met in Conakry, the capital of their native Guinea. The younger man told Ba about his repeated attempts to get a visa to study in France. Makka raised and lost thousands of dollars through intermediaries in various scams before being forced to accept that getting to Europe legally was a dead end. Only then did he set out overland.

    “It was not his fate to study at a university in France, it was his fate to die in the desert,” says Ba, who was with him when, on the last day of 2017, he died, aged 22.

    “It was not his fate to study at a university in France, it was his fate to die in the desert”

    The pair were among some 80 migrants on the back of a trio of vehicles roughly two days’ drive north of Agadez. The drivers became convinced they had been spotted by an army patrol and everything began to go wrong. Since the 2016 crackdown the routes have changed and distances doubled, according to active smugglers. Drivers have also begun to take amounts of up to $5,000 to pay off security patrols, but whether this works depends on who intercepts them. Some drivers have lost their vehicles and cash and been arrested. News that drivers are carrying cash has drawn bandits, some from as far afield as Chad. Faced with this gauntlet, some drivers unload their passengers and try to outrun the military.

    In Makka and Ba’s case, they were told to climb down. With very little food or water, the group did not even know in which direction to walk. “In that desert, there are no trees. No houses, no water … just mountains of sand,” Ba says.

    It took four days before an army patrol found them. In that time, six of the group died. There was no way to bury Makka, so he was covered with sand. Ba speaks with shame about the selfishness that comes with entering survival mode. “Not even your mother would give you her food and water,” he says.

    When they were finally picked up by the Nigerien army, one of the officers demanded to know of Ba why he had put himself in such an appalling situation and said he could not understand why he hadn’t gotten a visa.

    Half dead from heat stroke and dehydration, Ba answered him, “It is your fault that this happened. Because if you weren’t here, the driver would never abandon us.”

    Four months on and Ba has refused the offer from IOM of an E.U.-funded plane ticket home. He is back in the ghetto playing checkers on a homemade board and waiting to try again. He used Makka’s phone to speak to the young man’s father in Conakry, who begged him to turn back. Ba told him, “Your son had a goal and I am still following that goal. Either I will reach it or I will die. God will decide.”

    https://deeply.thenewhumanitarian.org/refugees/articles/2018/05/22/niger-europes-migration-laboratory

    #laboratoire #migrations #asile #réfugiés #externalisation #frontières #Agadez #modèle #modèle_nigérien #loi_36 #loi #IOM #OIM #Giuseppe_Loprete #risques #retours_volontaires #Raul_Mateus_Paula #European_development_fund #fond_européen_pour_le_développement #Allemagne #GTZ #Mohamed_Bazoum #France #Italie #G5_Sahel #Action_Plan_for_Rapid_Economic_Impact_in_Agadez (#PAIERA)

  • The wealthy Nigerians buying citizenship overseas
    (article paru en 2020, que je me mets ici pour archivage)

    Every year an increasing number of Nigerians flee poverty and unrest at home. Now, rich Nigerians are planning their escape too. And they’re taking their money with them.

    Dapo has spent too long at home in Lagos, Nigeria. Back in October, protests against the SARS police unit kept him from going to his office. “First, we were told to stay at home because of the coronavirus. Then this,” he says.

    A wealthy Nigerian, Dapo, who is in his late 30s, does not want to make himself identifiable by giving his surname and age, lest it draw unwanted attention.

    He has had a “backup plan” for getting out of Nigeria for some time, he says. “I have Maltese citizenship. I can leave for there any time.” With one small obstacle – a 14-day quarantine upon arrival – Dapo could be permanently in Malta any time he pleases. He is not planning to go imminently, but describes it as his “plan b’’.

    Dapo is one of a rapidly growing number of Nigerians who have bought so-called “golden visas” or foreign citizenships-by-investment this year. In his case it was Malta, the Mediterranean island where citizenship can be acquired for a minimum investment of 800,000 euros ($947,180) through the Malta Citizenship by Investment Programme.

    Not that he has any special love for Malta. A record 92 countries around the world now allow wealthy individuals to become residents or citizens in return for a fee, sometimes as low as $100,000 but often several million dollars. It is billed as a “win-win”: The country gets much-needed foreign investment and, in return, the new citizens have new passports that open up more of the world to travel or live in.

    Golden visas are the lesser-reported side of the Nigerian migration story. Every year thousands of Nigerians make their way to Europe via perilous crossings over the Sahara and Mediterranean. Now their wealthier counterparts are also making their way to Europe but via a different route.
    A record year for golden visas

    Whether rich or poor, the reasons for leaving one’s home country are often the same. Fear of political uncertainty at home and hope for better opportunities elsewhere. But 2020 has been exceptional.

    Like Dapo, Folajimi Kuti, 50, was watching the #EndSARS protests from his home in Lagos in October. “I have children, they’re teenagers, and they’re asking me questions like, ‘How did we get here?’” he says, referring to the violence that accompanied demonstrations against the controversial Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS).

    Kuti says he has believed for some time that social unrest would boil over in Nigeria, because of issues of poverty and police brutality. “It had been clear for the past two or three years that something was going to happen. It’s happened now in 2020 but, frankly, we’ve been expecting this outburst for a while so it wasn’t a matter of ‘if’. It was a matter of ‘when’.”

    Citizenship or residency abroad has become appealing, he adds. As a financial adviser to the wealthy, Kuti knows the process of applying for one having walked clients through it before. Most of his work involves advising Nigeria’s growing number of millionaires about investments and wealth planning. But now they are asking about foreign citizenships and Kuti himself is tempted by the idea. “Just knowing that if you need to go you certainly could and move without any restriction.”

    The rush for golden visas among rich Nigerians started before October’s SARS protests. At London-based Henley & Partners, one of the world’s largest citizenship advisory firms, applications by Nigerians increased by 185 percent during the eight months to September 2020, making them the second-largest nationality to apply for such schemes after Indians.

    More than 1,000 Nigerians have enquired about the citizenship of another country through Henley & Partners this year alone, which Paddy Blewer, head of marketing, says “is unheard of. We’ve never had this many people contacting us”.

    Many, like Kuti, saw political problems ahead and wanted an escape plan. Others were focused on coronavirus: What if the pandemic overwhelms Nigeria?

    “There is a lack of primary healthcare capacity that would be able to manage with either a second wave or whatever happens in, say, 2025,” says Blewer. “Let’s say there is COVID-21 still going on in 2025 that is of an order or magnitude worse. It’s, ‘Do I want to be based here and only based here, or do I want an alternative base of operations where I believe I will be safer and I will be able to run my global businesses’.

    “And, I think, that’s what COVID has driven.”

    It was in July, when the number of COVID-19 cases in Nigeria escalated, that wealthy Nigerians started looking more seriously at citizenship abroad, experts say. “Those with medical conditions that could not fly out – a lot of them are buying passports just because if there is any problem they can fly out,” says Olusegun Paul Andrew, 56, a Nigerian entrepreneur and investor who spends much of the year in the Netherlands.

    “Flying out” of Nigeria is hard and not just because of the coronavirus pandemic. Just 26 countries allow Nigerian passport holders visa-free entry, many of them part of West Africa’s ECOWAS arrangement. Both the United Kingdom and Europe’s Schengen zone require Nigerians to obtain visas ahead of travelling.

    For the wealthy, this is too much hassle. “They don’t want to be queueing for visas for any EU country or whatever,” says Andrew. Instead, why not purchase the citizenship of a country with visa-free access to Europe?
    To Europe, via the Caribbean

    Bimpe, a wealthy Nigerian who also does not wish to give her full name, has three passports. One Nigerian, which she says she never uses, and two from Caribbean nations: St Kitts and Nevis; and Grenada.

    The St Kitts and Nevis passport, which cost her $400,000 via a real estate investment programme, was useful when she travelled between London and New York on business as it allows for visa-free travel to the UK and Europe. But now that she has retired in Abuja, Bimpe, whose husband has passed away, wants her three adult sons to have the same opportunities to travel and live abroad.

    “My kids were interested in visa-free travel. They are young graduates, wanting to explore the world. So that was the reason for my investment,” she explains.

    Her investment to gain a Grenada passport for herself and her sons took the form of a $300,000 stake in the Six Senses La Sagesse hotel on the Caribbean island, which she bought in 2015 through a property development group called Range Developments. Like most countries offering their citizenship for sale, Grenada allows real estate investments to qualify for a passport.

    Bimpe’s family has lived overseas before – spending nine years in the UK between 2006 and 2015. Of her three sons, she says: “One, for sure now, is never going to leave Nigeria. He loves it here. The second one lives in England. He’s been in England long enough to get British residency. My youngest – for him, living abroad is a very, very attractive option. He’s not very happy [in Nigeria]. He went to England very young – at age 12 – and he’s had a problem adjusting since. He’s been back in Nigeria five years and he’s still not settled.”

    Now aged 26, Bimpe’s youngest son is looking at settling in the UK or in the US where, thanks to his Grenada citizenship, he qualifies for an E-2 visa, something not available to his fellow Nigerians since President Donald Trump’s ban on immigrant visa applications in February. Bimpe believes his career opportunities in acting – he studied Drama in the UK – are better abroad, and therefore considers the Grenada citizenship to be a worthwhile investment.

    Neither Bimpe nor her sons have ever been to Grenada even though their investment allows them to stay on the Caribbean island, once known as The Spice Island. “I intend to go. I would like to go,” she says. “Just when I did [the investment], it was soon after my husband died and I wasn’t in the mood for travel and then I got my passport but there was no good reason for travel due to the pandemic.”

    The Six Senses La Sagesse is being constructed by Range Developments, whose founder and managing director, Mohammed Asaria, says it is not unusual for investors never to visit. In fact, since there is no obligation for citizenship investors to visit Grenada, interest in the scheme has ballooned among Nigerians.

    “We have between high single figures and low double-digit sales of hotel units on a monthly basis to Nigerians. The average investment is just under $300,000,” says Asaria. “It’s a big market for us. And it’s going to get bigger. There are 300 million people [in Nigeria].” Of these, more than 40,000 are millionaires and, therefore, potential customers for golden visas, according to the Knight Frank Wealth Report.

    It is a similar story across the Caribbean. Arton Capital, a citizenship advisory group, says demand from Nigerian families for Antigua and Barbuda citizenship is up 15 percent this year compared with the last.

    St Lucia has also seen a record number of Nigerians applying in 2020. “It’s more than it’s ever been over the past four years,” says Nestor Alfred, CEO of the St Lucia Citizenship-by-Investment Unit.

    The citizenship market is not exclusive to the Caribbean, but these are the cheapest and they maintain that all-important visa-free access to Europe that their clients are hankering after.
    Tax incentives

    “I’m rich but I’m not a Donald Trump. I wasn’t looking for a tax escape,” says Bimpe.

    Investing in a foreign citizenship is not illegal for Nigerians, but the issue of wealthy citizens moving their assets overseas is a thorny one in Nigeria, where about $15bn is lost to tax evasion every year, according to the country’s Federal Inland Revenue Service. Much of that money finds its way to the Caribbean, as was highlighted in the leaked documents that formed part of the Panama Papers in 2016.

    The tax benefits of an overseas citizenship are undoubtedly attractive. Citizens can become tax residents of countries like Dominica, where there is no wealth or inheritance tax, or Grenada which offers “corporate tax incentives”. In Europe, Malta has long been courting hedge funds with its light-touch regulations.

    Being a citizen of a country with a more stable currency is also appealing to the wealthy. “Second citizenship helps with capital mobility. Pull up a graph of the Naira. If you look at the Naira for the last 10 years it’s been a horrible journey,” says Asaria. Better, therefore, in the minds of the wealthy, to own assets in euros or even East Caribbean dollars which are pegged to the US dollar.

    “Businesses are struggling, inflation on the rise, insecurity, and a host of other issues. These issues have prompted an increase in citizenship or residency-by-investment from wealthy Nigerians in a bid to secure a better future for their families in developed countries,” says Evans Ahanaonu, a Lagos-based representative for High Net Worth Immigration, a citizenship advisory firm. Grenada and Turkey are popular for clients wanting quick access to Europe, he adds, while some go straight for the UK Innovator Visa which means setting up a business in the UK.

    Given the number of applications processed by the citizenship advisory firms interviewed just for this article, a conservative estimate would put the amount invested by Nigerians into citizenship schemes at more than $1bn this year alone.
    Where rich and poor migrants meet

    The loss of wealth from Nigeria has severe implications for levels of employment in the country. With wealthy businesspeople investing their capital outside Nigeria rather than in it, there is less funding for local businesses or government projects which might otherwise generate employment. This, in turn is causing more poorer Nigerians to want to move overseas as well, in search of better work opportunities, a trend backed up by the findings of a 2018 survey by Afrobarometer, the data analysis group.

    Just before the pandemic struck, Kingsley Aneoklloude, 35, was able to make his way to Europe, but via a very different route.

    He was working as a mechanic in his village in Edo State, one of the country’s poorer provinces which have been untouched by oil wealth, where he earned 1,500 naira ($3.95) a week.

    The salary was poor but the final straw was police brutality. Aneoklloude was briefly employed as a local election monitor during the 2015 presidential elections. He says he was pressured by representatives of a political party to manipulate ballot papers, but refused, after which he became afraid for his safety. “I left because they were chasing me. Honestly, they come and chase me,” he says.
    Libya migrant business

    First, he went to Kano State in the north of Nigeria. Then, in December 2019, Aneoklloude made the dangerous journey to Europe via Niger, then Libya, “where there was a heavy war in Tripoli”, before crossing the Mediterranean.

    While adrift on the Mediterranean Sea, his small boat was rescued by Open Arms, an NGO which helps refugees and migrants crossing the Mediterranean. Their ship docked in Lampedusa, one of the Italian Pelagie Islands, where Aneoklloude’s asylum application for Germany was processed.

    Now in Potsdam, Germany, he is waiting to hear the outcome of his application for new citizenship and a job. “I have a nine-month contract for work, but they need the immigration officer to sign the contract before I start,” he explains.

    At 35, Aneoklloude is just a few years younger than Dapo. Both have witnessed police brutality from different angles, and both saw the Mediterranean as their way out.

    But now, with Nigeria’s economy officially in another recession, more will likely follow. It is a dangerous spiral: The more wealth taken out of Nigeria, the fewer jobs available to its poorest.

    https://www.aljazeera.com/features/2020/12/10/wealthy-nigerians-buying-citizenship-overseas

    #visas #golden_visas #Nigeria #migrants_nigérians #réfugiés_nigérians #riches #pauvres #migrations #asile #réfugiés #Malte #foreign_citizenships-by-investment #citoyenneté #Henley_&_Partners

  • Italie : le Conseil des ministres approuve l’accord avec l’Albanie sur l’externalisation des demandes d’asile - InfoMigrants
    https://www.infomigrants.net/fr/post/53713/italie--le-conseil-des-ministres-approuve-laccord-avec-lalbanie-sur-le

    Italie : le Conseil des ministres approuve l’accord avec l’Albanie sur l’externalisation des demandes d’asile
    Par Marlène Panara Publié le : 06/12/2023
    Signé par Rome et Tirana le 6 novembre dernier, le texte sur la délocalisation d’une partie des demandeurs d’asile a été confirmé mardi par le Conseil des ministres italien. Le décret atteste que les migrants secourus en mer Méditerranée par les autorités italiennes dans les eaux extra-européennes - ou eaux internationales - pourront être emmenés directement en Albanie.
    Des migrants secourus par les garde-côtes italiens bientôt en Albanie. Mardi 5 décembre, le Conseil des ministres a approuvé l’accord de collaboration entre Rome et Tirana pour l’accueil d’une partie des demandeurs d’asile dans ce pays non membre de l’Union européenne. Avec ce décret, annoncé le 6 novembre dernier par la Première ministre italienne Giorgia Meloni et son homologue Edi Rama, l’Albanie prévoit de prendre en charge jusqu’à 3 000 demandeurs d’asile en même temps, soit environ 36 000 personnes par an, d’après les prévisions des autorités.
    Mardi, quelques précisions ont été apportées quant à la mise en application de cette mesure. Ainsi, seuls les migrants secourus par les autorités italiennes en dehors des eaux territoriales européennes pourront être transférés vers l’Albanie et ses deux centres spécifiques - à Shengjin, pour l’identification, et à Gjader pour le traitement de la demande d’asile. Une spécificité qui permet ainsi à l’Italie de ne pas entrer « en conflit avec les règles du droit européen [qui interdit l’externalisation des demandes d’asile, ndlr] qui ne s’appliquent évidemment que sur le territoire ou dans les eaux européennes », explique La Repubblica. « Si le sauvetage a lieu dans les eaux internationales, le droit d’asile communautaire ne s’applique pas et l’Italie a le droit d’emmener ces personnes vers un autre pays », précise aussi l’agence de presse italienne Ansa, citant une source à Bruxelles.
    Avec ce traité, les migrants récupérés en mer ne débarqueront pas en Italie, ne fouleront pas son sol. Ils seront directement emmenés vers les ports albanais. Rome contourne ainsi la responsabilité légale d’accueil qui lui incombe lorsqu’un demandeur d’asile est secouru sur son territoire, maritime en l’occurrence. Au lendemain de la signature de l’accord le 6 novembre, le Haut-commissariat aux réfugiés des Nations unies (HCR) avait d’ailleurs rappelé à l’ordre l’Italie sur ce point. « La responsabilité première de l’évaluation des demandes d’asile et de l’octroi de la protection internationale incombe à l’État où le demandeur d’asile arrive », avait tancé l’institution onusienne. Cet accord obligera donc, aussi, les garde-côtes italiens « à s’éloigner beaucoup plus des côtes nationales pour les opérations de sauvetage, ce qui ne s’était pas produit depuis de nombreuses années », souligne la Repubblica.
    Le décret détaille également le fonctionnement interne des futurs centres, où la durée de rétention ne devra pas excéder 18 mois. Dans les structures albanaises, les migrants ne pourront échanger avec leur avocat seulement « à distance, par visioconférence », depuis le centre de Gjader. En cas de recours, l’audience avec les magistrats de Rome - tribunal compétent pour la gestion des centres - se déroulera de la même manière. « Le respect de tous les droits prévus par la réglementation générale (italienne et européenne) en la matière » seront garantis, assure le communiqué publié à l’issue du Conseil des ministres. En cas de problème juridique ou sanitaire, le transfert des exilés dans des centres en Italie ne sera possible qu’à titre « exceptionnel ». Dans la grande majorité des cas, l’entièreté des procédures se déroulera sur le sol albanais.
    Le centre de Shengjin sera construit sur un périmètre d’environ 240 mètres, et sera entouré d’une clôture de 4 mètres de haut, rehaussée de barbelés. Celui de Gjader, destiné à vérifier les conditions de protection internationale et de rapatriement des migrants, sera construit sur une superficie constructible de 77 700 mètres carrés. À l’heure actuelle, il n’existe à cet endroit qu’une dizaine de « bâtiments vétustes ». Des fonctionnaires, juges, médecins et infirmiers italiens seront aussi embauchés pour faire fonctionner les centres. Au total, 135 profils sont recherchés par les autorités.
    Coût total de l’opération ? Environ 200 millions d’euros. La moitié sera allouée en 2024, puis 50 millions d’euros seront versés chaque année, pendant quatre ans. « Cette somme sera bien dépensée, pour lutter contre l’immigration irrégulière », a assuré le ministre italien des Affaires étrangères Antonio Tajani à l’issue du Conseil des ministres. Pour Matteo Mauri, du Parti démocrate, cet argent est au contraire « littéralement jeté à la poubelle ». L’opposant dénonce « une pure opération de propagande de la part d’un gouvernement qui doit faire face à l’échec de sa gestion de l’immigration ». « Faire en Albanie ce qui devrait être fait en Italie ne résoudra aucun problème ni aucun coût », a-t-il fustigé. Dès son officialisation il y a trois semaines, cette collaboration avait essuyé de nombreuses critiques. « Il s’agit d’un accord de refoulement, une pratique interdite par les normes européennes et internationales et pour laquelle l’Italie a déjà été condamnée par la Cour européenne des droits de l’Homme », avait déploré Elisa de Pieri d’Amnesty international qui évoquait un accord « illégal, et irréalisable ». L’ONG allemande de sauvetage en mer Méditerranée Sea-Watch évoquait de son côté « une manœuvre inhumaine et populiste sans fondement juridique ». « Avec cette nouvelle absurdité, le gouvernement tente une fois de plus de se soustraire à ses responsabilités en matière d’asile. Les migrants, privés de leurs droits, sont toujours ceux qui en paient les conséquences », déploraient les humanitaires sur leur compte X (ex-Twitter).
    Le député et secrétaire du parti d’opposition Più Europa, Riccardo Magi, avait déclaré, lui, : « On crée une sorte de Guantanamo italien, en dehors de toute norme internationale, en dehors de l’UE, sans la possibilité de contrôler la détention des personnes enfermées dans ces centres ». Cette année, plus de 152 000 migrants ont débarqué en Italie, contre 96 624 pour toute l’année 2022. En réponse, Rome multiplie les mesures pour dissuader les exilés de venir sur son sol. Le 28 novembre, les députés ont validé le décret Cutro 2, qui durcit les conditions d’accueil des migrants. Parmi les mesures les plus polémiques : celle qui autorise l’hébergement des mineurs de moins de 16 ans dans des centres pour adultes. Alors même que l’Italie a été épinglée plusieurs fois par la Cour européenne des droits de l’Homme (CEDH) à indemniser des migrants mineurs, hébergés dans des centres pour adultes. Début septembre par exemple, la CEDH a condamné l’Italie pour « traitements inhumains et dégradants » à l’égard d’une migrante mineure ghanéenne. Cette dernière a été hébergée huit mois dans un centre pour adultes en Italie, malgré la reconnaissance de sa minorité. Victime d’abus sexuels dans son pays d’origine et en Libye, M.A. avait passé huit mois dans la structure, totalement inadaptée à sa vulnérabilité.

    #Covid-19#migration#migrant#italie#albanie#CEDH#delocalisation#asile#protection#rapatriement#vulnerabilite#droit#sante#mineur

  • More than 1,000 unmarked graves discovered along EU migration routes

    Bodies also piling up in morgues across continent as countries accused of failing to meet human rights obligations.

    Refugees and migrants are being buried in unmarked graves across the European Union at a scale that is unprecedented outside of war.

    The Guardian can reveal that at least 1,015 men, women and children who died at the borders of Europe in the past decade were buried before they were identified.

    They lie in stark, often blank graves along the borders – rough white stones overgrown with weeds in Sidiro cemetery in Greece; crude wooden crosses on Lampedusa in Italy; in northern France faceless slabs marked simply “Monsieur X”; in Poland and Croatia plaques reading “NN” for name unknown.

    On the Spanish island of Gran Canaria, one grave states: “Migrant boat number 4. 25/09/2022.”

    The European parliament passed a resolution in 2021 that called for people who die on migration routes to be identified and recognised the need for a coordinated database to collect details of the bodies.

    But across European countries the issue remains a legislative void, with no centralised data, nor any uniform process for dealing with the bodies.

    Working with forensic scientists from the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) and other researchers, NGOs and pathologists, the Guardian and a consortium of reporters pieced together for the first time the number of migrants and refugees who died in the past decade along the EU’s borders whose names remain unknown. At least 2,162 bodies have still not been identified.

    Some of these bodies are piling up in morgues, funeral parlours and even shipping containers across the continent. Visiting 24 cemeteries and working with researchers, the team found more than 1,000 nameless graves.

    These, however, are the tip of the iceberg. More than 29,000 people died on European migration routes in this period, the majority of whom remain missing.

    –—

    What is the border graves project?
    Hide

    About the investigation

    The Guardian teamed up with Süddeutsche Zeitung and eight reporters from the Border Graves Investigation who received funding from Investigative Journalism for Europe and Journalismfund Europe.

    We worked with researchers at the International Committee of the Red Cross who shared exclusively their most up-to-date findings on migrant and refugee deaths registered in Spain, Malta, Greece and Italy between 2014 and 2021.

    Other partners included Marijana Hameršak of the European Irregularized Migration Regime at the Periphery of the EU (ERIM) project in Croatia, Grupa Granica and Podlaskie Humanitarian Emergency Service (POPH) in Poland and Sienos Grupė in Lithuania. The journalist Maël Galisson provided data for France.

    Reporters and researchers also checked death registers, interviewed prosecutors and spoke to local authorities and morgue directors, as well as visiting two dozen cemeteries to track the number of unidentified migrants and refugees who have died trying to cross into the EU in the past decade and find their graves.

    –—

    The problem is “utterly neglected”, according to Europe’s commissioner for human rights, Dunja Mijatović, who has said EU countries are failing in their obligations under international human rights law.

    “The tools are there. We have the agencies and the forensic experts, but they need to be engaged [by governments],” she said. The rise of the hard right and a lack of political will were likely to further impede the development of a proper system to address “the tragedy of missing migrants”, she added.

    Instead, pockets of work happen at a local level. Pathologists, for example, collect DNA samples and the few personal items found on the bodies. The clues to lives lost are meagre: loose change in foreign currency, prayer beads, a Manchester United souvenir badge.

    The lack of coordination leaves bewildered families struggling to navigate localised, often foreign bureaucracy in the search for lost relatives.

    Supporting them falls to aid organisations such as the ICRC, which has recorded 16,500 requests since 2013 for information to its programme for restoring family links from people looking for relatives who went missing en route to Europe. The largest number of requests have come from Afghans, Iraqis, Somalians, Guineans and people from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Eritrea and Syria. Only 285 successful matches have been achieved.

    And now even some of this support is about to disappear. As governments cut their aid budgets, the ICRC has been forced to refocus its reduced resources. National Red Cross agencies will continue the family links programme but much of the ICRC’s work training police and local authorities is being cut.
    A race against time

    The mini set of scissors and comb worn on a chain were unique to 24-year-old Oussama Tayeb, a small talisman that reflected his job as a barber. For his cousin Abdallah, they were the hope that he had been found.

    Tayeb set sail last year from the north-west of Algeria just before 8pm on Christmas Day. Onboard with him were 22 neighbours who had clubbed together to pay for the boat they had hoped would take them to Spain.

    His family has been searching for him since. Abdallah, who lives in France, fears it is a race against time.

    Spanish police introduced a database in 2007 in which data and genetic samples from unidentified remains are meant to be logged. In practice, the system breaks down when it comes to families searching for missing relatives, who have no clear information about how to access it.

    The family had provided a DNA sample soon after Tayeb’s disappearance. With no news by February, they travelled to southern Spain for a second time to search for him. At the morgue in Almería, a forensic doctor reacted to Tayeb’s photo, saying he looked familiar. She recalled a necklace, but said the man she was thinking of was believed to have died in a jet ski accident.

    “It was a really intense moment because we knew that Oussama was wearing a jet ski lifejacket,” Abdallah said.

    Even with the knowledge that Tayeb’s body may have been found, his cousin was unable to see the corpse lying in the morgue without a police officer. Abdallah remembered the shocking callousness with which he was greeted at one of the many police stations he tried. “One policeman told us that if ‘they don’t want to disappear, they shouldn’t have taken a boat to Spain’.”

    Looming over Abdallah’s continuing search is a practical pressure mentioned by the Spanish pathologist: bodies in the morgue are usually kept for a year and then buried, whether identified or not. “We only want an answer. If we see the chain, this would be like a death certificate. It’s so heartbreaking. It’s like we’re leaving Oussama in the fridge and we can’t do anything about it,” he said.
    ‘Here lies a brother who lost his life’

    The local authorities that receive the most bodies are often on small islands and are increasingly saying they cannot cope.

    They warn that an already inadequate system is going backwards. Spain’s Canary Islands have reported a record 35,410 men, women and children reaching the archipelago by boat this year. In recent months, most of these vessels have sought to land on the tiny, remote island of El Hierro. In the past six weeks alone, seven unidentified people were buried on the island.

    The burial vaults of 15 unidentified people who were found dead on a rickety wooden vessel in 2020, in the town of Agüimes on Gran Canaria, bear identical plaques that read simply: “Here lies a brother who lost his life trying to reach our shores.”

    In the Muslim section of Lanzarote’s Teguise cemetery, the graves of children are marked with circles of stones. They include the grave of a baby believed to have been stillborn on a deadly crossing from Morocco in 2020. Alhassane Bangoura’s body was separated from his mother during the rescue and was buried in an unmarked grave. His name is only recorded informally, engraved on a bowl by locals moved by his plight.

    It is the same story in the other countries at the edge of the EU; unmarked graves dotted along their frontiers standing testament to the crisis. Along the land borders, in Croatia, Poland, Lithuania, the numbers of unmarked graves are fewer but still they are there, blank stones or sometimes an NN marked on plaques.

    In France, the anonymous inscription “X” stands out in cemeteries in Calais. The numbers seem low compared with those found along the southern coastal borders: 35 out of 242 migrants and refugees who died on the Franco-British border since 2014 remain unidentified. The high proportion of the dead identified reflects the fact that people spend time waiting before attempting the Channel crossing so there are often contacts still in France able to name those who die.
    Fragments of hope

    Leaked footage of Polish border guards laughing at a young man hanging upside down, trapped by his foot, stuck in the razor wire on the top of the 180km (110-mile) steel border fence separating Belarus from Poland caused a brief social media storm.

    But the moment he is caught in the searchlights, his frightened face briefly frozen, has haunted 50-year-old Kafya Rachid for the past year. She is sure the man is her missing child, Mohammed Sabah, who was 22 when she last saw him alive.

    Sabah had flown from his home in Iraqi Kurdistan in the autumn of 2021 to Belarus, for which he had a visa. He was successfully taken across the EU border by smugglers but was detained about 50km (30 miles) into Poland and deported back to Belarus.

    Waiting to cross again, his messages suddenly stopped. The family had been coming to terms with the fact he was probably dead. Then the video surfaced. With little else to go on, fragments such as this give families hope.

    Sabah’s parents, as so often happens, were unable to get visas to travel to the EU. Instead, Rekaut Rachid, an uncle of Sabah who has lived in London since 1999, has made three trips to Poland to try to find him.

    Rachid believes the Polish authorities lied to him when they told him the man in the video was Egyptian, and this keeps him searching. “They are hiding something. Five per cent of me thinks maybe he died. But 95% of me thinks he is in prison somewhere in Poland,” he said, adding: “My sister calls every day to ask if I think he is still alive. I don’t know how to answer.”
    Shipping container morgues

    In a corner of the hospital car park in the Greek city of Alexandroupolis, two battered refrigerated shipping containers stand next to some rubbish bins. Inside are the bodies of 40 people.

    The border from Turkey into Greece over the Evros River nearby is only a 10- to 20-minute crossing, but people cross at night when their small rubber boats can easily hit a tree and capsize. Corpses decompose quickly in the riverbed mud, so that facial characteristics, clothing and any documents that might help identify them are rapidly destroyed.

    Twenty of the corpses in the containers are the charred remains of migrants who died in wildfires that consumed this part of Greece during the summer’s heatwave. Identification has proved exceptionally difficult, with only four of the dead named to date.

    Prof Pavlos Pavlidis, the forensic pathologist for the area, works to determine the cause of death, to collect DNA samples and to catalogue any personal effects that might help relatives identify their loved ones at a later date.

    The temporary container morgues in Alexandroupolis are on loan from the ICRC. The humanitarian agency has loaned another container to the island of Lesbos, another migration hotspot, for the same purpose.

    Lampedusa does not have that luxury. “There are no morgues and no refrigerated units,” said Salvatore Vella, the Sicilian head prosecutor who leads investigations into shipwrecks off its coast. “Once placed in body bags, the bodies of migrants are transferred to Sicily. Burial is managed by individual towns. It has happened that migrants have sometimes been buried in sort of mass graves within cemeteries.”

    The scale of the problem was becoming so acute, said Filippo Furri, an anthropologist and an associate researcher at Mecmi, a group that examines deaths during migration, that “there have been cases of coffins abandoned in cemetery warehouses due to lack of space, or bodies that remain in hospital morgues”.
    ‘It’s not only a technical difficulty but also a political one’

    “If you count the relatives of those who are missing, hundreds of thousands of people are impacted. They don’t know where their loved ones are. Were they well treated, were they respected when they were buried? That’s what preys on families’ minds,” said Laurel Clegg, the ICRC forensic coordinator for migration in Europe. “We have an obligation to provide the dead with a dignified burial; and [to address] the other side, providing answers to families through identification of the dead.”

    She said keeping track of the dead relied on lots of parts working well together: a legal framework that protected the unidentified dead, consistent postmortems, morgues, registries, dignified transport and cemeteries.

    The systems are inadequate, however, despite the EU parliament resolution. There are still no common rules about what information should be collected, nor a centralised place to store this information. The political focus is on catching the smugglers rather than finding out who their victims are.

    A spokesperson for the European Commission said the rights and dignity of refugees and migrants had to be addressed alongside tackling people smuggling. They said each member state was responsible individually for how it dealt with those who died on its borders, but that the commission was working to improve coordination and protocols and “regrets the loss of every human life” .

    In Italy, significant efforts have been made to identify the dead from a couple of well-reported, large-scale disasters. Cristina Cattaneo, the head of the laboratory of forensic anthropology and odontology (Labanof) at the University of Milan, has spent years working to identify the dead from a shipwreck in 2015 in which more than 1,000 people lost their lives.

    Raising the wreck to retrieve the bodies has cost €9.5m (£8.1m) already. Organising the 30,000 mixed bones into identifiable remains of 528 bodies has been a herculean task. Only six victims have so far been issued official death certificates.

    As political positions on irregular migration have hardened, experts are finding official enthusiasm for their complex work has diminished. “It’s not only a technical difficulty but also a political one,” Cattaneo said.

    In Sicily, Vella has been investigating a fishing boat that sank in October 2019. It was carrying 49 people, mostly from Tunisia. Just a few miles off shore, a group onboard filmed themselves celebrating their imminent arrival in Europe before the boat ran out of fuel and capsized. The Italian coastguard rescued 22 people but 27 others lost their lives.

    Coastguard divers, using robots, captured images of bodies floating near the vessel, but were unable to recover all of them. The footage circulated around the world. A group of Tunisian women who had been searching for their sons contacted the Italian authorities and were given permits to travel to meet the prosecutor, who showed them more footage.

    One mother, Zakia Hamidi, recognised her 18-year-old son, Fheker. It was a searing experience for both her and Vella: “At that moment, I realised the difference between a mother, torn apart by grief, but who at least will return home with her child’s body, and those mothers who will not have a body to mourn. It is something heartbreaking.”
    The torture of not knowing

    The grief that people feel when they have no certainty about the fate of their missing relatives has a very particular intensity.

    Dr Pauline Boss, professor emeritus of psychology at the University of Minnesota in the US, was the first to describe this “ambiguous loss”. “You are stuck, immobilised, you feel guilty if you begin again because that would mean accepting the person is dead. Grieving is frozen, your decision-making is frozen, you can’t work out the facts, can’t answer the questions,” she said.

    Not knowing often has severe practical consequences too. Spouses may not be able to exercise their parental rights, inherit assets or claim welfare support or pensions without a death certificate. Orphans cannot be adopted by extended family without one either.

    Sometimes relatives are left in the dark for years. A decade on from a shipwreck disaster in 2013, bereaved families continue to gather in Lampedusa every year, still searching for answers. Among them this year was a Syrian woman, Sabah al-Joury, whose son Abdulqader was on the boat. She said that not knowing where he ended up was like having “an open wound”.

    Sabah’s family said the torture of not being able to find out what happened to him was “like dying everyday”. Abdallah thinks he must make another trip from Paris to southern Spain before the end of the year. “What is difficult is not to have the body, not to be able to bury him,” he said.

    Rituals around death were indicative of a deep human need, said Boss. “The most important thing is for the name to be marked somewhere, so the family can visit, and the missing can be remembered. A name means you were on this Earth, not forgotten.”

    https://www.theguardian.com/world/ng-interactive/2023/dec/08/revealed-more-than-1000-unmarked-graves-discovered-along-eu-migration-r

    #migrations #asile #réfugiés #frontières #mourir_aux_frontières #tombes #fosses_communes #Europe #morts_aux_frontières #enterrement #cimetières #morgues #chiffres

    • The Border Graves Investigation

      More than 1,000 migrants who died trying to enter Europe lie buried in nameless graves. EU migration policy has failed the dead and the living.

      A cross-border team of eight journalists has confirmed the existence of 1,015 unmarked graves of migrants buried in 65 cemeteries over the past decade across Spain, Italy, Greece, Malta, Poland, Lithuania, France, and Croatia. The reporters visited more than half of them.

      Unidentified migrants lay to rest in cemeteries in olive groves, on hilltops, in dense forests, and along remote highways. Each unmarked grave represents a person who lost their life en route to Europe, and a fate that will remain forever unknown to their loved ones.

      This months-long investigation underlines that Europe’s migration policies have failed more than a thousand people who have died in transit and the families who survive them.

      In 2021, the European Parliament passed a resolution recognsing the need for a “coordinated European approach” for “prompt and effective identification processes” for bodies found on EU borders. Yet in 2022, the Council of Europe called this area a “legislative void”.

      These failures mean that the responsibility of memorialising unidentified victims often ends up falling to individual municipalities, cemetery keepers and local good Samaritans, with many victims buried without any attempt at identification.

      https://twitter.com/Techjournalisto/status/1733100115781386448

      In the absence of official data from European and national governments, the Border Graves Investigation collaborated with The Guardian and Suddeutsche Zeitung to count 2,162 unidentified deaths of migrants across eight countries in Europe between 2014 and 2023.

      The cross-border team conducted over 60 interviews in six languages. They spoke with families of the missing and deceased, whose loved ones left for Europe from Syria, Afghanistan, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Iraqi Kurdistan, Algeria and Sri Lanka.

      They revealed the institutional and bureaucratic hurdles of searching for bodies and burying the remains of those that are found. One mother compared her unresolved grief to an “open wound,” and an uncle said it was like “dying every day”.

      To understand the complex legal, medical and political landscape of death in each country, the journalists spoke with coroners, grave keepers, forensic doctors, international and local humanitarian groups, government officials, a European MEP and the Council of Europe Human Rights Commissioner.

      The in-depth investigation reveals that the European Union is violating migrants’ last rights. The stories below show how.
      The team

      The Border Graves Investigation team consists of Barbara Matejčić, Daphne Tolis, Danai Maragoudaki, Eoghan Gilmartin, Gabriela Ramirez, Gabriele Cruciata, Leah Pattem, and is coordinated by Tina Xu. The project was supported by the IJ4EU fund and JournalismFund Europe.

      Gabriele Cruciata is a Rome-based award-winning journalist specialising in podcasts and investigative and narrative journalism. He also works as a fixer, producer, journalism consultant, and trainer.

      Gabriele Cruciata IG @gab_cruciata

      Leah Pattem is a Spain-based journalist and photographer specialising in politics, migration and community stories. Leah is also the founder and editor of the popular local media platform Madrid No Frills.

      X @leahpattem
      IG @madridnofrills

      Eoghan Gilmartin is a Spain-based freelance journalist specialising in news, politics and migration. His work has appeared in Jacobin Magazine, The Guardian, Tribune and Open Democracy.

      X @EoghanGilmartin
      Muck Rack: Eoghan Gilmartin

      Gabriela Ramirez is an award-winning multimedia journalist specialising in migration, human rights, ocean conservation, and climate issues, always through a gender-focused lens. Currently serving as the Multimedia & Engagement Editor at Unbias The News.

      X @higabyramirez
      Linkedin Gabriela Ramirez
      Instagram @higabyramirez

      Barbara Matejčić is a Croatian award-winning freelance journalist, non-fiction writer and audio producer focused on social affairs and human rights

      Website: http://barbaramatejcic.com
      FB: https://www.facebook.com/barbara.matejcic.1
      Instagram: @barbaramatejcic

      Danai Maragoudaki is a Greek journalist based in Athens. She works for independent media outlet Solomon and is a member of their investigative team. Her reporting focuses on transparency, finance, and digital threats.

      FB: https://www.facebook.com/danai.maragoudaki
      X: @d_maragoudaki
      IG: @danai_maragoudaki

      Daphne Tolis is an award-winning documentary producer/filmmaker and multimedia journalist based in Athens. She has produced and hosted timely documentaries for VICE Greece and has directed TV documentaries for the EBU and documentaries for the MSF and IFRC. Since 2014 she has been working as a freelance producer and journalist in Greece for the BBC, Newsnight, VICE News Tonight, ABC News, PBS Newshour, SRF, NPR, Channel 4, The New York Times Magazine, ARTE, DW, ZDF, SVT, VPRO and others. She has reported live for DW News, BBC News, CBC News, ABC Australia, and has been a guest contributor on various BBC radio programs, Times Radio, Morning Ireland, RTE, NPR’s ‘Morning Edition’, and others.

      X: https://twitter.com/daphnetoli
      Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/daphne_tolis/?hl=en
      Linkedin: www.linkedin.com/in/daphne-tolis

      Tina Xu is a multimedia journalist and filmmaker working at the intersection of migration, mental health, socially engaged arts, and civil society. Her stories often interrogate the three-way street between people, policy, and power. She received the Excellence in Environmental Reporting Award from Society of Publishers in Asia in 2021, was a laureate of the European Press Prize Innovation Award in 2021 and 2022, and shortlisted for the One World Media Refugee Reporting Award in 2022.

      X: @tinayingxu
      IG: @tinayingxu

      https://www.investigativejournalismforeu.net/projects/border-graves

    • 1000 Lives, 0 Names: The Border Graves Investigation. How the EU is failing migrants’ last rights

      What happens to those who die in their attempts to reach the European Union? How are their lives marked, how can their families honor them? How do governments recognize their existence and their basic rights as human beings?

      Our cross-border team confirmed 1,015 unmarked graves of migrants in 65 cemeteries buried over the last 10 years across Spain, Italy, Greece, Malta, Poland, Lithuania, France, and Croatia. We visited over half of them.

      Each unmarked grave represents a person who lost their life en route to Europe, and a fate that remains painfully unknown to their loved ones.

      In 2021, the European Parliament passed a resolution recognizing the need for a “coordinated European approach” for “prompt and effective identification processes” for bodies found on EU borders. Yet last year, the Council of Europe called this area a “legislative void.”

      In the absence of official data from European and national governments, the Border Graves Investigation counted 2,162 unidentified deaths of migrants across eight countries in Europe from 2014-2023.

      Our cross-border team conducted over 60 interviews in six languages. We spoke with families of the missing and deceased, whose loved ones left for Europe from Syria, Afghanistan, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Iraqi Kurdistan, Algeria, and Sri Lanka. They spoke about the institutional and bureaucratic hurdles of searching for, and if found, burying a body.

      One mother compared the unresolved grief to an “open wound,” and an uncle said it was like “dying every day.”
      Here is how Europe violates the “last rights” of migrants.

      https://unbiasthenews.org/border-graves-investigation

    • Widowed by Europe’s borders

      “No water, I think I’ll die, I love you.” This is the last text Sanooja received from her husband, who disappeared after a pushback into the dense forest that stretches between Belarus, Lithuania, and Poland. For families searching for missing loved ones, the EU inflicts a second death of identity and acknowledgment.

      Samrin and Sanooja were high school classmates. Both born in 1990, they grew up together in Kalpitiya, a town of 80,000 on the tip of a small peninsula in Sri Lanka. When Samrin first asked Sanooja out in the ninth grade, she said no. But years later, when her roommates snuck through her diary, they asked about the boy in all her stories.

      When they turned 20, Sanooja was studying to be a teacher, while Samrin left town for work. After six years of video calls and heart emoji-laden selfies, Samrin returned home in 2017 and they got married, her in a white headscarf and indigo-sleeved dress, him in a matching indigo suit. Their son Haashim was born a year later. They called each other “thangam,” or gold.

      She hoped the birth of their son meant that Samrin would stay close by from now on. They took their son to the beach, to the zoo. Then the 2019 economic crisis hit, the worst since the country’s independence in 1948. There were daily blackouts, a shortage of fuel, and runaway inflation. In 2022, protests rocked the country, and the government claimed bankruptcy.

      Samrin was a difficult person to fall in love with, says Sanooja, because he was so ambitious. Sanooja smiles bitterly over a video call from her home in Kalpitiya. The sun filters through the mango tree in the yard, where the two often sat together and made plans for their future.

      But part of loving him, she explains, meant supporting him even in his hardest decisions. One of these decisions was to take a plane to Moscow, then to travel to Europe and send money home. “He went to keep us happy, to make us good.”

      Their last day together, Sanooja surprised him with a cake: Sky blue icing, an airplane made of fondant, ascending from an earth made of chocolate sprinkles. In big letters: “Love you and will miss you. Have a safe journey, Thangam.” In their last photos together, Haashim sits laughing on Samrin’s lap as he cuts the cake. That night, Samrin squeezed his son and wept. The next day he put on a pair of blue Converse All-Stars, packed a black backpack, and set out. It was June 26, 2022. He had just turned 32 years old.

      Things did not go according to plan. He boarded a bus from St. Petersburg to Helsinki, but the fake Schengen visa they paid so much for was rejected at the Finnish border. Sanooja told him he could always come home. But in order to finance the journey, they had sold a plot of Samrin’s land and Sanooja’s jewelry, and borrowed money from friends. Samrin decided there was no turning back. He pivoted to plan B: He could go to Belarus, where he didn’t need a visa, and cross the border to Lithuania, in the Schengen zone.

      When Samrin checked into the Old Town Trio Hotel in Vilnius on August 16, 2022, the first thing he did was call home: He had survived the forest. Sanooja was relieved to hear his voice. He told her about the eight days crossing the forest between Belarus and Lithuania, the mud up to his knees. Days without food, drinking dirty water. He told her especially about the pains in his stomach as he walked in the forest, due to his recent surgery to remove kidney stones. Sometimes he would urinate blood.

      But he was in the European Union. He bought a plane ticket for a departure to Paris in four days, the city where he hoped to make his new life. What happened next is unclear. This is what Sanooja knows:

      On the third day, Samrin walked into the hotel lobby, and the manager called security. Plainclothes officers shuttled him into a car and whisked him 50 kilometers back once more to the Belarusian border. In less than 72 hours, Samrin found himself trapped again in the forest he had fought to escape.

      It was already dark when Samrin was left alone in the woods. He had no backpack, sleeping bag, or food. His phone was running out of battery. The next morning, Samrin came online briefly to send Sanooja a final message on WhatsApp: “No water, I think I’ll die. Trangam, I love you.”

      That was the beginning of a deafening silence that stretched four and a half months. When she gets to this part of the story, Sanooja, ever talkative and articulate, apologizes that she simply cannot describe it. Her eyes glaze and flit upward.

      The Council of Europe Human Rights Commissioner Dunja Mijatović asserts that families have a “right to truth” surrounding the fates of their loved ones who disappear en route to Europe. In 2021, the European Parliament passed a resolution calling for “prompt and effective identification processes” to connect the bodies of those who perished to those searching for them. Two years on, Mijatović tells us not much has been done, and the issue is a “legislative void.”

      As part of the Border Graves Investigation, conducted with a cross-border team of eight freelance journalists across Europe in collaboration with Unbias the News, The Guardian and Sueddeutche Zeitung, we followed the stories of those who have disappeared in the forest that covers the borders in Eastern Europe, between Belarus and the EU (Lithuania, Poland, Latvia).

      We spoke with their families, as well as over a dozen humanitarian workers, lawyers, and policymakers from organizations in Poland, Lithuania, and Belarus, to piece together the question of what happens after something goes fatally wrong on Europe’s eastern border—and who is responsible.
      Who counts the dead?

      The forest along the Belarussian border is a dense landscape of underbrush, moss and swamps, and encompasses one of the largest ancient forest areas left in Europe.

      Spanning hundreds of square kilometers across the borders with Lithuania and Poland, the forest became an unexpected hotspot when Belarus began issuing visas and opening direct flights to Minsk in the summer of 2021. This power play between Belarussian President Lukashenko and his EU neighbors has been called a “political game” in which migrants are the pawns.

      Since 2021, thousands of people, mostly from the Middle East and Africa, have sought to enter the EU from Belarus via its borders in Poland and Lithuania. Hundreds of people have been caught in a one-kilometer no man’s land between Belarusian territory and the EU border fence, chased back and forth by border guards on both sides under threat of violence. Belarusian guards reportedly threatened to release dogs, and photographs emerged of bite wounds.

      Since 2021, Poland and Lithuania have ramped up on “pushbacks,” in which border guards deport people immediately without the opportunity to ask for asylum, a process that is growing in popularity across Europe despite violating international law. Poland reports having conducted 78,010 pushbacks since the start of the crisis, and Lithuania 21,857. Samrin was apparently one of these cases.

      While these two countries publish precise daily statistics for pushbacks, they do not publish data for deaths at the border, nor people reported missing.

      “National states want to do this job secretly,” explains Tomas Tomilinas, a member of the Lithuanian Parliament. “We are on the margins of the law and constitution here, any government pushing people back is trying to avoid publicity on this topic.”

      Official data is an intentional void. Both the Polish and Lithuanian Border Guards declined to share any numbers with us. However, there are organizations striving to keep count: Humanitarian groups in Poland, including Grupa Granica (“Border Group” in Polish) and Podlaskie Humanitarian Emergency Service (POPH), have documented 52 deaths on the Poland-Belarus border since 2021, and are tracking 16 unidentified bodies.

      In Lithuania, the humanitarian group Sienos Grupė (“Border Group” in Lithuanian) has documented 10 deaths, including three minors who died while in detention centers, and three others who died in car accidents when chased by local authorities after crossing the border region. In Belarus, the NGO Human Constanta reports that 33 have died according to government data shared with them, but it was not recorded whether these bodies have been identified, and whether or where they are buried.

      On the borders between Poland, Lithuania and Belarus, humanitarian groups have compiled a list of more than 300 people reported missing. The organizations emphasize that their numbers are incomplete, as they have neither the access nor the capacity to monitor the full extent of the problem.

      Where to turn?

      It was already past midnight in Sri Lanka when Samrin stopped responding to messages. From 8,000 km away, Sanooja tried to call for help. She found his last known coordinates on Find My iPhone, a blue dot in Trokenikskiy, Grodno region, just across the Belarus side of the border, and tried to report him missing.

      The Lithuanian and Belarussian border guards picked up the phone. She begged them to find him, even if it meant arresting or deporting him. They responded that he had to call himself. It was baffling: How can a missing person call to report themselves?

      She called the migrant detention camps, where people are often detained without access to a phone for months. Maybe he was locked up somewhere. As soon as she said “hello,” they responded, “no English,” and hung up. She emailed them instead, no response. She emailed UNHCR and the Red Cross Society. Both institutions said they had no information about the case. She emailed the police, who responded a week later that they had no information.

      Sanooja had run into the rude reality that there is no authority responsible for nor prepared to respond to such inquiries. Even organizations dedicated to working with migrants, such as the migrant detention camp staff, would or could not respond to basic queries in English.

      International humanitarian organizations, too, are almost absent in the region. Compared to the Mediterranean countries of Spain, Italy, and Greece, which have had a decade to organize to respond to mass deaths on their border, the presence of formal aid in Eastern Europe is much smaller.

      Weeks passed, and in the terrible silence, every possibility behind her husband’s disappearance invaded Sanooja’s mind. Four-year-old Haashim began to cry out for his father every night, who used to wake him up with kisses. When they lost contact, Haashim often wet the bed and refused to go to school. “He must have had some intuition about his father,” said Sanooja.

      Then Sanooja began to wonder if he could be in another country in the region: Latvia? Poland? She broadened her search to all four countries. There was no Sri Lankan Embassy in Lithuania, Poland, Belarus, or Latvia, so she emailed the closest one in Sweden. Then, she went on Facebook. That’s how she found the account of Sienos Grupė, and sent them a message.

      Like many local humanitarian groups across the region, Sienos Grupė is a small team of four part-time staff and around 30 volunteers. The group banded together in 2021 to respond to calls for help through WhatsApp and Facebook and drop off vital supplies in the forest, such as food, water, power banks, and dry clothes.
      “There is a body, please go”

      Local volunteer groups were doing their best to aid the living, but it wasn’t long before they were being contacted to find the missing or the dead.

      On the Polish border, everyone has heard of Piotr Czaban. A local journalist and activist, his contact is shared among migrants attempting to cross the border. He is known as the man who can help find the bodies of people left behind in the woods, a reputation he has lived up to many times. The demands of the work have led him to leave his full-time job.

      He sits on the edge of a weathered log in a forest near Sokolka, a city near the Poland-Belarus border region where he lives. Navigating the thick undergrowth with ease in jeans and trekking boots, he recounts the first search he coordinated back in February 2022. He received a message on Facebook from a Syrian man in Belarus: “There is a body in the forest, here is the place, please go.”

      Piotr was taken off guard. He asked his friends in the police what to do, and they told him the best way was to go himself, take photos, and then call the police. However, the border guards had closed the border region to all non-residents, including journalists and humanitarian workers, so he couldn’t pass the police checkpoints for the area where the body lay.

      So Piotr made another call. This time to Rafal Kowalczyk, the 53-year-old director of the Mammal Research Institute, who has worked in the Bialowieza Forest for three decades. (“In my previous TV job, I interviewed him about bison, and thought he was a good man,” said Piotr by way of introduction).

      Rafal was up for the task. As a wildlife expert, he had access to the restricted forest area, and now he ventured into the woods not to track bison, but to follow the clues sent by a despairing Syrian man.

      In the swamp, Rafal found 26-year-old Ahmed Al-Shawafi from Yemen, barefoot and half-submerged in the water, one shoe in the mud nearby.

      It was difficult for Rafal to point his camera at the face of a dead man, but he did, and this image still haunts him. Piotr forwarded the photos Rafal had taken to the police, with a straightforward message: “We know there’s a body there. Now you have to go.”

      But what if Ahmed could have been found earlier, even alive?

      “The police have no competence”

      Until there is a photo of a dead body, police and border guards have often declined to search for missing or dead migrants.

      Ahmed’s traveling companions, including the man who contacted Piotr, had personally begged Polish border guards for emergency medical aid for Ahmed. They had left Ahmed by the river in the throes of hypothermia to ask for help. Instead of calling paramedics, or searching for Ahmed at all, the border guards pushed the group back to Belarus, leaving Ahmed to die alone in the forest.

      In our investigation, we heard of at least three other deaths that are eerily similar to Ahmed’s: Ethiopian woman Mahlet Kassa, 28; Syrian man Mohammed Yasim, 32; and Yemeni man Dr. Ibrahim Jaber Ahmed Dihiya, 33. In all three cases, traveling companions approached Polish officers for emergency medical attention, but instead got pushed back themselves. Help never arrived.

      Each time the activists receive a report of a missing or dead person, they first share this information with the police. Piotr says he has received responses from the police, including, “We’re busy,” or “Not our problem.”

      After police were provided with the photos and exact GPS location of Ahmed’s body, they called back to say they still couldn’t find him. When Rafal turned his car around to personally lead the police to his body, he found out why: The police had ventured into the swamp without waterproof boots or even a GPS to navigate in a forest where there is often no cell connection.

      “The police are unequipped,” said Rafal, full of disbelief. Two years on from the crisis, the police still do not have the proper basic equipment nor training to conduct searches for people missing or dead in the forest. He recounts that in one trip to retrieve a body with police, they could only walk 300 meters in one hour, and one officer had lost the sole of his shoes in the mud.

      The Polish police responded to our email, “The police is not a force with the competence to deal with persons illegally crossing borders.” As a result, eight of 22 bodies found this year on the Polish side of the border were discovered by volunteers like Piotr and Rafal.

      On the Lithuanian side, Sienos Grupė says there are no such searches. “We are afraid there are many bodies in Lithuanian forests and the area between the fence and Belarus, but we are not allowed there,” says Aušrinė, a 23-year-old medicine student and Sienos Grupė volunteer in Lithuania. “Nobody is looking for them.”
      “In two weeks, there is nothing there”

      Rafal sits down in a wooden lodge on the edge of the forest and orders tea for himself while his two young children play on a tablet. It was his turn with the kids, he explains in a deep voice. His wife came home at four in the morning, after spending the whole night volunteering with POPH on a search for a man with diabetes in the forest.

      He feared that time was running out. We met with Rafal on Thursday evening. The man was found on Saturday morning, already dead. He is the 51st death recorded in Poland this year.

      In the forest, each search is a race against both time and wild animals.

      The winter may preserve a body for two months, but in the summer, the time frame is much shorter. A few times, Rafal has come across mere skeletons. He explains, “When there is a smell, the scavengers go immediately. When you’ve got summer and flies, probably in two weeks, it’s done, there’s nothing there.”

      In such advanced stages of decomposition, the body is exponentially more difficult to identify. However, DNA can be collected from bone fragments, in case families come searching. If they’re lucky, there are objects found close by: glasses, clothes, or jewelry. In one case, a family portrait found near the body was the key to identification.

      However, the Suwałki Prosecutor’s Office in Poland explained to us that the Prosecutor’s Offices keep no central register of data on deceased migrants, such as DNA, personal belongings, or photographs.
      “As a wife, I know his eyes”

      Four and a half months after Samrin disappeared, Sanooja’s phone rang. It was January 5, 2023. She will never forget the voice of the man that spoke. He was calling from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Sri Lanka, and informed her that her husband’s DNA had been matched to a body found in the Lithuanian forest. Interpol had drawn Samrin’s biometric data from the UK.

      She considers it fate that the dots came together this way. When they were 20 years old, Samrin’s father passed away, and Samrin left for London on a student visa. Instead of studying, he washed dishes at McDonald’s and KFC, and stocked shelves at Aldi, Lidl, and Iceland. When his visa expired, he lived a clandestine existence, evading the authorities. At age 26, the Home Office arrested him, took his DNA, and deported him. This infraction turned out to be an unexpected lifeline for his identification.

      “Getting the message that my husband was no more, that was nothing compared to those four and a half months,” said Sanooja. She had begun to fear that she would have to live with “lifelong doubt” around Samrin’s fate. Now she knew that four days after Samrin sent his goodbye message, his body was pulled from a river on the Lithuanian side of the border.

      Sanooja has read the police report countless times now: On August 21, 2022, witness Saulius Zakarevičius went for a morning swim in the Neris River. After bathing, he saw something floating. Through binoculars, he was able to decipher human clothes. The river bank is covered with tall grass. At the end of the patch there was a male corpse lying face down. The surface of the skin was swollen, pale, chaotically covered with pink lines, resembling the surface of marble. The skin was peeling from the palms of the corpse…

      She was asked to identify the corpse.

      “As a wife, I know him. I know his eyes. To see them on a dead body, that was terrible.”
      Sanooja

      In photos of his personal items, she instantly recognized Samrin’s shoes: a muddy pair of blue Converse All-Stars, with the laces looped just the way he always did.

      To be able to transport a dead body from Europe to any other part of the world, families must face the financial challenge of costs up to 10,000 euros. But the decision was not only about money for Sanooja. It was about time and dreams.

      For one, she believed that he had suffered enough. “As Muslims, we believe that even dead bodies can feel pain,” she says softly. “I felt broken that he was in the mortuary, feeling the cold for four and a half months.”

      And perhaps most of all, she recites what Samrin had told her before he left: “If I go, this time I’m not coming back.” In the end, Sanooja relied on her husband’s last will. “His dream was to be in Europe. So, at least his body will rest in Europe.”
      “Graves without a plate”

      Samrin’s death was the first border death publicly recognized by the Lithuanian government. Despite being the first, he did not receive any distinctive attention, and his resting place remained an unmarked mound of earth for more than eight months.

      On a hot summer day in July, co-founder of Sienos Grupė, Mantautas Šulskus brings a green watering can and measuring tape to our visit to the Vilnius cemetery where Samrin was buried in February. Green grass is sprouting all over Samrin’s grave. But it is not the only one.

      There are three smaller graves lined in a row. Among them, an eleven-year-old, a five-year-old, and a newborn baby rest side by side, their lives cut short in 2021. “These are three minors who died in detention centers in Lithuania,” Mantautas points out somberly.

      These cases have not been officially acknowledged by Lithuanian authorities, and none of the graves of the minors bear a name, even though their identities were also known to authorities. This lack of recognition paints a haunting picture, suggesting a second, silent death—a death of identity and acknowledgment.

      Bodies are sent to municipal or village governments to bury, and if they do not receive explicit instructions to create a plate, they often opt not to. As a result, the nameless graves of migrants are scattered across cemeteries in the region.

      Yet Mantautas is here in the scorching heat to measure a stone plate nearby in the Muslim corner of the cemetery. Sanooja saw it during a video call with Sienos Grupė volunteers, so that she could pray virtually at her husband’s grave. She asked for a plate with Samrin’s name on it—“just exactly like that one there,” she pointed.

      After some months, Sienos Grupė crowdfunded around 1,500 euros to buy and place stone plates for all four graves. The graves of Samrin and the three children now have names: Yusof Ibrahim Ali, Asma Jawadi, and Fatima Manazarova.

      Resting at the feet of the grave is a plate made of stone bearing the inscription “M.S.M.M. Samrin, 1990-2022, Sri Lanka,” precisely as Sanooja has requested. She explains that, according to Islamic beliefs, this will ensure that her husband will rise when the last days come.

      Hidden graves, unknown bodies

      The chilling thing, Mantautas explains, is nobody knows how many graves of migrants there might be, except for the government, which buries them quietly, often in remote villages.

      Organizations like Sienos Grupė find themselves grasping in the dark for leads. Last month, volunteers came across the grave of Lakshmisundar Sukumaran, an Indian man reported dead in April “quite by accident,” says Mantautas. The revelation came on the Eve of All Saint’s Day, when activists preparing for a control ran into a local returning from a visit to his mother’s grave: “There is a migrant buried in town.”

      Indeed, Sukumaran’s grave stands alone in an isolated corner of a small cemetery in Rameikos, a village of 25 people on the Lithuanian-Belarus border. Set apart from crosses of various sizes, a vertical piece of wood bears the inscription: “Lakshmisundar Sukumaran 1983.06.05 – 2023.04.04.” The border fence is visible from his grave. The earth is decorated by the colorful leaves of Lithuanian autumn.

      Sienos Grupė maintains a list of at least 40 people reported missing on the Lithuania-Belarus border, information the government does not record. When bodies are found, they strive to connect the dots: Location, gender, age, ethnicity, possessions, birthmarks, anything. But if authorities do not report when a body is found, the chances of locating anybody on this list are small.

      Emiljia Śvobaitė, a lawyer and volunteer from Sienos Grupė, explains that the Lithuanian government will only confirm whether something they already know is correct. “It seems like they are hiding these kinds of stories and information unless somebody exposes it. They would only confirm the deaths after activists have said something about it.”
      “No political will”

      The Lithuanian Parliament building, known as the Seimas Palace, is an imposing glass-and-concrete building in downtown Vilnius. It is where the Lithuanians declared independence from the Soviet Union in 1990. From an office with a view over the square, Member of Parliament Tomas Tomilinas wryly explains that their government has legalized pushbacks essentially because Europe has not established that it’s illegal.

      “I would say Europe has no political will to make pushbacks illegal. If there were a European law, the European Commission would put a ban on it. It would put a fine on Lithuania. But nobody’s doing that.”
      Member of Lithuanian Parliament, Tomas Tomilinas

      The Polish parliament legalized pushbacks in October 2021, and the Lithuanian parliament followed suit by legalizing pushbacks in April this year.

      Emiljia raises concerns about the violence of pushbacks her clients have seen. “The government keeps telling us they do everything really nicely. They give people food, and even wave goodbye to them, in the daytime. But when we look at specific cases, where people end up without their limbs on them, those pushbacks are performed at night.”

      She also raises concerns about legalized pushbacks in Lithuania, and whether border guards should be given the right to assess and deny asylum claims on the spot. “It’s funny because border guards should decide right away on the border whether a person is running from persecution, meaning a border guard should identify the conflict in the country of origin, and do all the work that the migration department is doing.”

      “It’s naive to believe that the system would work.”
      Fighting back in court

      With the help of Sienos Grupė’s support for legal expenses, Sanooja took the case to court. If the Lithuanian officials wouldn’t speak with her, perhaps they would speak to lawyers.

      Yet last month, Sanooja’s case was closed for the final time by the Vilnius Regional Prosecutor’s Office after seven appeals. The case never made it to trial.

      The Vilnius court claims there is no basis for a criminal investigation. Emiljia, who was on the team representing Sanooja in the case, responds that the pre-trial investigation didn’t investigate the cause of death properly, nor how the acts of the border police might have caused or contributed to the death of the applicant’s husband.

      Rytis Satkauskas, law professor, managing partner of ReLex law firm, and the lead attorney on Sanooja’s case, questions whether the Lithuanian courts are trying to hide something greater: he points to a series of inconsistencies in Samrin’s autopsy report.

      Autopsies should be conducted immediately to determine the cause of death. However, Samrin’s autopsy report claims that the cause of death cannot be established because the body was in an advanced state of decomposition of up to five months.

      Five months after Samrin’s death is the same time around which Sanooja got in touch to pursue the truth of the matter. Satkauskas does not think this is a coincidence: “I believe they left the body in the repository, then when they established the identity of the person, they had to do this autopsy.”

      The autopsy report explains the advanced state of decomposition by referencing the marshy area in which it was found, claiming the heat of the marsh had accelerated decomposition by up to five months within a matter of days.

      Satkauskas asks further: If Samrin simply drowned, then why do other measurements not add up? He references a table of measurements in the autopsy report, in which the weight and algae content of the lungs are normal. However, Satkauskas says, in cases of drowning, both weight and algae content should be much higher. “I’m convinced they have invented all those measurements,” Satkauskas puts simply.

      As Sanooja’s case has exhausted all legal avenues in Lithuania, it is now eligible for appeal to the European Court of Human Rights.

      Emilija points to a promising parallel: in Alhowais v. Hungary, the European Court of Human Rights ruled this February that a Hungarian border guard’s violent pushback ending in the drowning of a Syrian man violated Articles 2 and 3 of the European Convention of Human Rights, which protects the “right to life” and against “torture or inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.”

      The decision came in February this year, seven years after the death of the defendant’s brother. Yet for Sanooja and her team, the case provides hope that there is a growing legal precedent for victims of pushbacks.

      A battle in court for Sanooja could be a long and expensive one. The case in Vilnius courts had cost 600 euros for each of the seven appeals, and after Sanooja ran out of funds after the first case, Sienos Grupė stepped in to shoulder the costs of the appeals.

      For the ECHR, it will cost 1500 euros to submit the proposal. Sanooja is exploring the possibility of raising money through NGOs or other means to continue the long quest for truth.

      The window of eligibility to appeal will close in February 2024.
      “Wherever I go, I have memories”

      Day by day, Sanooja’s son grows to look more like Samrin.

      She has tried not to cry in front of him. “It makes him upset. I am the only person now for my son, so I should be strong enough to face these things,” says the 32-year-old widow. “But wherever I go, I have memories. And everything my son does reminds me of him.”

      Before Samrin’s body was found, she told her son “false stories,” but with his body now interred, she has opened up to her son about her father’s death. He understands it the way a child might—he runs around telling neighbors his father is in heaven, and it’s a great place. It will be years before he can point to where Lithuania is on a map.

      Thanks to the cooperation of the Sri Lankan embassy in Sweden, Sanooja is one of the few families who have been able to receive a death certificate. She notes this will be crucial when her son enrolls for school and if they decide to sell or expand their property. However, to correct the misspelling on the document, she needs to travel to Colombo, the capital of Sri Lanka, which takes ten hours and nearly 10,000 rupees.

      Meanwhile, Samrin’s death has ruptured the family into those who can accept the reality of his death, and those who cannot. Sanooja’s mother-in-law has ceased contact with her, unable to wrap her head around the fact that her boy is gone. When Samrin had left, he promised his mother to send money so that she would no longer have to wake up early to make pastries to sell in the morning. On the day of Samrin’s funeral, she told the family, “That is not my son.”

      “What difference does it make, finding the body and burying it?” asks Pauline Boss, the Psychology Professor emeritus at the University of Minnesota who coined the term “ambiguous loss,” which encompasses the unique stress of not knowing whether someone you love is alive or dead.

      Professor Boss states that burying someone is a distinct human need—not just for the dead, but for the living. “In all cases, a human being has to see their loved one transform from breathing to not breathing, and have the power and control to deal with the remains in their particular cultural way. It’s a human need, and it has been for eons.”

      Yet few families are able to attend the funerals of their loved ones in Europe, for the same reason their loved ones tried to travel to Europe on such a dangerous road in the first place: inability to obtain a visa, or lack of funds.

      “I hope one day I will visit, and I will show our son his father’s grave,” Sanooja declares.

      When Samrin was interred into the snow-covered February earth of Liepynės cemetery in Vilnius on Valentine’s Day this year, a volunteer present at the burial offered to video call Sanooja through FaceTime.

      In the grainy constellation of pixels of the phone screen in her palm, from 8,000 kilometers away, she watched her husband disappear forever into the cold European soil.

      https://unbiasthenews.org/widowed-by-europes-borders

      #Lituanie #Biélorussie #forêt #Pologne #Bialowieza

    • Missing data, missing souls in Italy

      How Italy’s failing system makes it almost impossible for families to identify their relatives who passed away while reaching the EU.

      Before the Syrian civil war erupted, Refaat Hazima was a barber in Damascus. His father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had also been barbers. Thanks to his craftsmanship, flair, and a reputation built over four generations, Refaat was a wealthy man. Together with his wife – a doctor for the national service – he could afford to have his three children study instead of sending them to work at a young age.

      “They were always the top of the class,” he recalls in a nostalgic voice as he sits alone in a seaside restaurant on Lampedusa, a small Sicilian island halfway between Malta and the eastern coast of Tunisia. The rocky shores along which he now slowly enjoys eggplant served with fresh tuna were the scene of the most traumatic episode of his life.

      “President Bashar al-Assad had centralized all power in his hands, and our daily life in Syria had become complicated.” Refaat was also temporarily imprisoned for political reasons. But the point of no return for him and his wife was the outbreak of civil war in 2011. It became clear that not only their children’s educational future was in jeopardy, but even the survival of their entire family.

      So they decided to leave.

      The couple paid smugglers more than fifty thousand dollars to attempt to reach Germany, where their children could continue their education. But amid rejections, hurdles, and hesitations that forced the family into months-long stages in different countries, Refaat and his family had to wait until 2013 to finally set sail to the European shores of Lampedusa.

      Although it was autumn, the sea was calm that night. Initial concerns related to the sea conditions and the wooden boat that was all too heavily laden with humans now dissipated. In the darkness of the night sea, the shorelines and the flickering lights of street lamps and restaurants were in sight. But suddenly the boat in which they were traveling capsized.

      “Everyone was screaming as we ended up in the sea,” Rafaat recalls. “I grabbed one of my children, my wife grabbed another child. But in the commotion and screaming of the nighttime shipwreck, two of my children disappeared.”
      \

      The couple were rescued by Italian authorities and brought to the mainland along with one of their children. The other two, however, disappeared. “One of them told me Dad, give me a kiss on the forehead, and then I never saw him ever again.”

      From 2013 to the present, Refaat has searched everywhere for their children. For 10 years he has been traveling, asking, and searching. He has even appeared on TV hoping one day to be reunited with them. But to this day he still does not know if his children were saved or if they are two of the 268 victims of the October 11, 2013 shipwreck, one of the worst Mediterranean disasters in the last three decades.

      Uncertain and partial numbers

      For more than two decades, Italy has been one of the main gateways for migrants wanting to reach the European Union. Between thirty and forty thousand people have died trying to reach Italy since 2000. But despite this strategic location, authorities have never created a comprehensive register to census the dead returned from the sea, and thus sources are confusing and approximate.

      In any case, the figure of bodies found is only a percentage of the people who lost their lives while attempting to cross over to Europe. In fact, the bodies of those who die at sea are rarely recovered. When this happens, they are even more rarely identified by Italian authorities.

      A study conducted by the International Committee of the Red Cross tried to map the anonymous graves of migrants in various European countries and count the number of deaths recovered at sea. According to the report, between 2014 and 2019, 964 bodies of people – presumed migrants – were found in Italy, of which only 27 percent were identified. In most of the cases analyzed, identification occurred through immediate visual recognition by their fellow travelers, while those traveling without friends or relatives almost always remained anonymous.

      Overall, 73 percent of the bodies recovered in Italy between 2014 and 2019 remain unknown.

      A DNA test for everyone

      “The vast majority of bodies end up at the bottom of the sea and are never recovered, becoming fish food,” explains Tareke Bhrane, founder of the October 3 Committee, an NGO established to protect the rights of those who die trying to reach Europe. “The Committee was born in the aftermath of the two disastrous shipwrecks on October 3 and 11, 2013 to make Italy understand that even those who die have dignity and that respecting that dignity is important not only for those who die, but also for those who survive,” Bhrane recounts.

      On October 3, 2023, the Committee organized a large event on the island of Lampedusa to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the shipwreck. Dozens of families of people who died or disappeared gathered on the island, traveling from many European and Middle Eastern countries.

      On the island were also forensic geneticists from Labanof, a leading forensic medicine laboratory at the University of Milan that has been working with prosecutors and law enforcement agencies for decades now to solve cases and identify unnamed bodies. Relatives of missing persons were thus able to undergo a free DNA test to find out more about their loved ones.

      One of the committee’s main activities in recent years has been to lobby Sicilian municipalities for better management of anonymous graves. Thanks in part to the NGO, today almost all Sicilian provinces now house some victims of migration, often anonymous, in their cemeteries.

      “Among the essential points of our mission,” Bhrane explains, “is to create a European DNA database for the recognition of victims, so that anyone who wants to can take a DNA test anywhere in Europe and find out if a loved one has lost their life trying to get here.”
      Resigned and hopeful

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RhbqUACTv8&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Funbiasthenews.org%2

      While Refaat has not yet resigned himself to the idea that his children may have died at sea, other relatives have become more aware and would like to know where Italy buried their loved ones. But this is often impossible because the graves are anonymous and there is a lack of national records that they can consult to find their loved ones.

      This is the case for Asmeret Amanuel and Desbele Asfaha, two Eritrean nationals who are respectively the nephew and brother of one of the people aboard the boat that capsized in 2013.

      “We heard from the radio that the boat he was traveling on had sunk. We never heard from him again,” Asmeret says. The two traveled all the way to Lampedusa to undergo DNA testing, hoping to match their loved one’s name for the first time with one of the many acronyms that have appeared on migrants’ anonymous graves and find out where he rests.

      “I remember as children we used to play together,” says Desbele. “And instead today I don’t even know where to mourn him. Yet it would take so little.”

      An organizational failure

      Many Italian cemeteries hold anonymous graves of people who died while migrating, especially in the South. It is difficult to map them all and provide an exact number, just as it is nearly impossible to quantify the number of anonymous graves. Again, there is no centralized, national database, and even at the municipal level information is scarce and partial.

      But thanks to an international investigation project called the “The Border Graves Investigation” and promoted by IJ4EU and Journalism Fund of which Unbias the News is one of the partners, it is now possible to shed light on what resembles a large European mass grave.

      From the Italian side of the investigation, large gaps emerge on Italy’s part in the construction of a national cemetery archive. According to protocol, data on anonymous graves are supposed to be sent every three months from individual cemeteries and work their way up a long bureaucratic chain until they reach the desk of the government’s Special Commissioner for Missing Persons, an office created by the Italian government in 2007 precisely to create a single national database.

      But sources from the Special Commissioner told the Border Graves Investigation team that unidentified bodies are not within their jurisdiction because in cases where there is an alleged crime (e.g., illegal immigration) the jurisdiction passes to the local magistrate. Thus, the source confirmed that no office systematically collects this data and that figures areeverything is scattered in individual prosecutors’ offices.

      However, the documentary traces of migrants’ anonymous graves are often already lost in the records of the cemeteries themselves or municipal records, that is, at the first step in the chain. For example, in Agrigento, it is possible to visit the graves of men and women who died at sea marked by numbers, but in the paper registers consulted by our team of journalists there is no trace of them.

      Yet the records are deposited a few meters from the graves themselves.

      In Sciacca, Agrigento province, the municipal administration moved some anonymous graves of migrants inside a mass grave to make room for new burials. However, it did not follow the prescribed regulations and did not notify the relatives of the few victims who had been identified and whose names were listed on the grave. The matter was discovered at the time when a woman went to the cemetery to pray at her sister’s grave and did not find her in her usual place.

      In other cases, anonymous graves have been moved from one cemetery to another due to the need for space, but without alerting the population.
      The bureaucratic snag

      Finding out the fate of a loved one is so complicated for several reasons. First, the identification of the body, which the Italian authorities do not generally consider a priority. Then there is the difficulty of recognition itself, especially when relatives are abroad or have difficulty contacting Italian authorities.

      In addition, there is the problem of traceability of the bodies, which often remain on the seabed and, in the few cases where they are found, enter a bureaucratic machine in which it is arduous to recover their traces. Researcher and anthropologist Giorgia Mirto explained this to our investigative team: “The corpses should be registered in the registrar’s office where the body is found. But then the body is often moved within the same cemetery, from one cemetery to another or from one municipality to another, and so there is documentation that travels along with the body. Moves that are difficult to track.”

      “Moreover,” Mirto adds, “adding to the difficulty is the absence of unified procedures. “With the Human Cost of Border Control project, we have seen that the only way to count these people and their graves is to do a blanket search of all the municipalities, all the cemetery offices, all the registrars’ offices and all the cemeteries, possibly adding the funeral homes as well.”

      Thus, there is a problem with centralization and transparency of data that is often also linked to the huge austerity cuts that have forced municipalities to work understaffed. Emblematic is the Commissioner’s Office for Missing Persons, which would be responsible for compiling a list of unidentified bodies found on Italian soil, but has been left without a portfolio.

      “As anthropologist Didier Fassin says,” the researcher concludes, “missing data is not the result of carelessness but is an administrative and political choice. It should be understood how much this choice is conscious and how much is the result of disinterest in the good work of municipal archives (an essential resource for historical memory and for the peace of victims’ families) or in understanding the cost of borders in terms of human lives.”

      EU responsibilities

      Forensic scientist Cristina Cattaneo – a professor at the University of Milan and director of the Labanof forensic laboratory – explained to our team that from a forensic point of view, the most important procedure for identifying a body is to collect both post-mortem (from tattoos to DNA, through cadaveric inspections and autopsies) and antemortem medical forensic information, that is, that which comes from family members regarding the missing person.

      However, in many countries, including Italy, no law makes this procedure mandatory. In the case of people who die while migrating, this is done only in egregious cases, such as large shipwrecks that become news. “These cases have shown that a broad and widespread effort to identify the bodies of those who die at sea is possible,” says Cattaneo. “However, most people lose their lives in very small shipwrecks that don’t make too much news. And because there is no protocol to make data collection systematic, many family members are left in doubt as to whether their loved ones are alive or dead.”

      All this happens despite the great efforts made over the years by the government’s Extraordinary Commissioner for Missing Persons, which, despite being the only national institution of its kind at the European level, has to manage a huge amount of data from all Italian municipalities. Data that are often disorganized, reported late, and collected without adhering to common and strict procedures.

      This is why Cattaneo is among the signatories of an appeal calling for the enactment of a European law that would once and for all oblige member states to identify the bodies of migrants.

      “Yet a European solution would exist and from a technical point of view it is already feasible,” Cattaneo adds. It involves data exchange systems such as Interpol, which at the European level already collects, organizes, and can share information and organically to member countries.

      “It would be enough to expand the analysis to include missing migrants and thus make it possible to search and identify them on a European scale. But this is not being done because of a lack of political will on the part of Brussels,” Cattaneo concludes.
      “The art of patience”

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PlDtBRg02aU&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Funbiasthenews.org%2

      Identifying the bodies of people who lose their lives coming to Europe is an important issue on several levels.

      First and foremost, international humanitarian law protects the right to identity for both those who are alive and those who have died. But identifying is also an essential issue for those who remain alive. Indeed, without a death certificate, it is almost impossible for a spouse to marry again or to access survivor’s pensions, just as it is impossible for a minor relative to leave their country with an adult without running into a blockade by the authorities, who cannot rule out the possibility of child abduction.

      Then there is the issue of suspended grief, namely the condition of those who do not know whether to search for a loved one or mourn his or her death.

      This is the case for Asmeret and Desbele, but also for many relatives interviewed by our team.

      Sabah and Ahmed, for example, are a Syrian couple. One of their sons disappeared in 2013 after a shipwreck in Italian waters. For 10 years, Ahmed retraced the same land and sea route followed by his son, hoping to find his body or at least get more information. But the efforts were in vain and to this day the family still does not know what happened to him.

      “His children are still with us and often ask, ‘where is Dad? Where is Dad?’ but without a grave and a body, we still don’t know what to answer.”

      Both Sabah and Ahmed are very religious and today rely on Allah to give them the comfort they have not found in the work of institutions. “The greatest gift from Allah,” they recount, “was the patience with which to be able to move forward in the face of such unnatural grief for a parent.”

      A similar lesson was learned by Refaat, who like Ahmed and Sabah has been living in ignorance for ten years. Today he has opened a barber store in Hamburg and realized his dream of having his surviving son study in Germany.

      “I have been searching for my children for ten years, and Allah knows I will search for them until the end of my days, should I find their dead bodies, or should I find them alive who knows where in the world. But I want to die knowing that I did everything I could to find them.”
      Refaat Hazima

      Sometimes his voice trembles. “I often talk to them in my sleep, I feel that they are still alive. But even if I were to find out they are dead, in all these years I would still have learned how to deal with frustration and pain, how to live with emptiness. And most importantly,” he concludes, “I would have learned the art of patience.”


      https://unbiasthenews.org/missing-data-missing-souls

      #Italie #Tareke_Brhane #comitato_3_ottobre #3_octobre_2013 #Lampedusa

    • Unmarked monuments of EU’s shame in Croatia and Bosnia

      Amid pushbacks and torture, many of the victims of the treacherous Balkan route are laid to an anonymous final resting place in Croatian and Bosnian cemetaries.

      In the village of Siče in eastern Croatia, there are more inhabitants in the cemetery than among the living. The village has 230 living residents, and 250 dead. To be more precise, the cemetery is home to 247 locals and three unknown persons. There would be more people six feet under if Siče hadn’t gotten its own cemetery only in the 1970s. There would also be even more of the living if they hadn’t, like many from that region, gone to bigger cities in search of a better life. Abroad as well, mainly to Germany.

      The graves of Siče’s inhabitants briefly tell the visitor who these people were, where they belong, and whether their loved ones care for them. That’s the thing with graves, they summarise the basic information of our life.

      If the grave bears only the inscription “NN”, that summarises a tragedy.

      Who are these three people whose names are unknown? How come their last resting place is a plain grave in Siče?

      Even if you didn’t know, it’s clear that those three people don’t belong there.

      They have been buried completely separated from the rest of the cemetery. Three wooden crosses with NN inscriptions, stuck in the ground at the edge of the cemetery. NN, an abbreviation of the Latin nomen nescio, literally means, “I do not know the name.” The official explanation from the public burial ground operator is that space has been left for more possible burials of those whose names are not known. However, the explanation that springs to mind when you get there is that they were buried separately so they wouldn’t mix with the locals. Or as the mayor of another town, where NN migrants have also been buried at the edge of the cemetery, let slip in a telephone conversation, “So that they’re not in the way.”

      At the cemetery in Siče, these are the only three graves that no one takes care of. In about five years, all trace of them could disappear. The public burial ground operator is obliged to bury unidentified bodies, but not to maintain graves unless the grave belongs to a person of “special historical and social significance.”

      NN1, NN2 and NN3 are of special significance only to their loved ones, who probably don’t even know where they are. Maybe they are waiting to finally hear from them from Western Europe. Maybe they’re looking for them. Maybe they mourn them.

      Identities known but buried as unknown

      If you do dig a little deeper, you will learn a thing or two about those who rest here nameless.

      In the early, cold morning of December 23, 2022, the police found two bodies on the banks of the Sava, the river that separates Croatia from Bosnia and Herzegovina. It separates the European Union from the rest of Europe. According to the police report, they also found a group of twenty foreign citizens who illegally entered Croatia via the river. The group was missing one more person. After an extensive search, a third body was found in the afternoon. The pathologist of the General Hospital in the town of Nova Gradiška established the time of death for all three people as 2:45 A.M. Two died of hypothermia, one drowned.

      Identity cards from a refugee camp in Bosnia and Herzegovina were found on them. We learned that, according to their IDs, all three were from Afghanistan: Ahmedi Abozari was 17 years old, Basir Naseri was 21 years old and Shakir Atoin was 25 years old. NN1, NN2 and NN3.

      Other migrants from the group also confirmed the identity of two of them, as the Brodsko-Posavska County police administration told us. Then why were they buried as NN? If it was known that they were from Afghanistan, why were they buried under crosses? If families are looking for them, how will they find them?

      The cemetery management was kind and said that they perform burials according to what is written in the burial permit signed by the pathologist – and it said NN.

      The pathologist said that he enters the data based on the information he receives from the police.

      The competent police department told us that the person is buried according to the rules of the local municipality.

      Siče cemetery belongs to the municipality of Nova Kapela, whose mayor, Ivan Šmit, discontentedly listed all the costs that his municipality incurred for those burials and said that whoever is willing to pay for it can change the NN inscription into names.

      We came across a series of similar administrative ambiguities while investigating how authorities deal with the deceased people they recover at EU borders as a part of the Border Graves Investigation carried out by a team of eight freelancers from across Europe together with Unbias the News, The Guardian and Süddeutsche Zeitung.

      There is no centralised European database on the number of migrants’ graves in Europe.

      But the team managed to confirm the existence of at least 1,931 migrants’ graves in Greece, Italy, Spain, Croatia, Malta, Poland and France, dating from 2014 to 2023. Of these, 1,015 were unidentified. More than half of the unidentified graves are in Greece, 551, in Italy 248, and in Spain 109. The data were obtained based on the databases of international organizations, non-governmental organizations, scientists, local authorities and cemeteries, and field visits.

      The team visited 24 cemeteries in Greece, Spain, Italy, Croatia, Poland and Lithuania, where there are a total of 555 graves of unidentified migrants in the last decade, from 2014 to 2023.

      These are only those whose bodies have been found. The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) estimates that more than 93% of those who go missing on Europe’s borders are never found.
      Families lost in bureaucracy

      December 2022, when the three young Afghans died, was rainier than usual and the Sava River swelled. It is big and fast to begin with.

      In that area, just three days earlier, five Turkish citizens went missing after their boat overturned on the Sava. Among them were a two-year-old girl, a twelve-year-old boy and their parents. The brother of the missing father came from Germany to Croatia to find out what happened to the family. From the documentation, which we have in our possession, it is evident that with the help of translator Nina Rajković, he tried to get information about his missing relatives from several police stations. Even months later, he hasn’t received any updates.

      The two had wanted to file a missing person’s report, but the police told them that there was no point in doing so if the person had not previously been registered in the territory of Croatia or Bosnia and Herzegovina.

      We encountered a number of similar examples. A young man had come to Croatia and reported to the police in both Croatia and Slovenia that his brother had drowned in the Kupa River that separates the two countries. However, his brother’s disappearance was not recorded in the Croatian national database of missing persons, which is publicly available. The police did not contact him after several unidentified bodies were found in the Kupa in the following days.

      In another example, an Afghan man waited six months for the body of his brother, who drowned when they tried to cross the Sava together, also in December 2022, to be transferred from Croatia to Bosnia and Herzegovina so that he could bury him. Although he had confirmed that it was his brother, the identification process was lengthy and complicated.

      There are numerous families who tried from afar to track down their loved ones who had disappeared in the territory of Croatia, only to finally give up in discouragement.

      There are many questions and few clear answers when it comes to the issue of missing and dead migrants on the so-called Balkan Route, of which Croatia is a part. There are no clear protocols and procedures defining to whom and how to report a missing person. It is not known whether missing migrants are actively searched for, as tourists are when they disappear in the summer. It is not clear how much and which information is needed for identification.

      “The circulation of information between institutions and individual departments seems almost non-existent to me."

      “In one case, it took me more than two months and dozens of phone calls and emails to different addresses, police stations, police departments, hospitals, and the state attorney’s office, just to prompt the initiation of identification, which to this day, more than a year later, has not been completed,” says Marijana Hameršak, activist and head of the project “European Regime of Irregular Migration on the Periphery of the EU” of the Institute of Ethnology and Folklore Research in Zagreb, which collects knowledge and data on missing and dead migrants.

      Searches for missing migrants and attempts to identify the dead in Croatia, as well as in neighbouring Bosnia and Herzegovina, most often rely on the efforts of volunteers and activists, who, like Marijana, untiringly search for information in the chaotic administration because families who do not know the language find this task practically insurmountable.
      “Die or make your dream come true”

      The Facebook group “Dead and Missing in the Balkans” became the central place to exchange photos and information about the missing and the dead between families and activists.

      The competent Ministry of the Interior does not have a website in English with an address where one can write from Afghanistan or Syria and inquire about the fate of loved ones, leave information about them, and report them missing. There is also no regional database on missing and dead migrants on which the police administrations would cooperate, not even the ones from the countries where the most crossings are recorded – from Bosnia and Herzegovina to Croatia.

      In an interview with our team, Dunja Mijatović, the Council of Europe Commissioner for Human Rights, emphasised that the creation of a centralised European database of missing and dead migrants is extremely important. If such a database combined ante-mortem and post-mortem data on the deceased, the chances of identification would greatly increase.

      “Families have a right to know the truth about the fate of their loved ones.”
      Dunja Mijatović, Council of Europe Commissioner for Human Rights

      Yet, police cooperation in keeping the EU’s external border impervious is effective.

      Previously, people attempting to migrate did not try to cross the Sava so often. They knew it was too dangerous. They share information with each other and do not venture across such a river in children’s inflatable boats or inner tubes. Unless they are utterly desperate. With pushbacks and the use of force, which many organisations like Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have been warning about for years, the Croatian police made it difficult to cross at other, less dangerous points along the Croatian border, which is the longest external land border in the European Union. As a young Moroccan in Bosnia and Herzegovina who tried to cross the border to Croatia 11 times but was pushed back by the Croatian police each time told us, “You have two choices: die or make your dream come true.”

      It is difficult to determine how many died on the Balkan Route in an attempt to fulfil their dream. The most comprehensive data for ex-Yugoslav countries is collected by the researchers of the “European Regime of Irregular Migration on the Periphery of the EU (ERIM)” project. It records 346 victims from 2014 to 2023 in Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, Slovenia, North Macedonia and Kosovo. Each entry in ERIM’s database is individual and contains as much data as the researchers managed to collect, and they use all available sources – media reports, witnesses, official statistics, activist channels. But the figure is certainly significantly higher. Some who went missing were never even registered anywhere.

      Many bodies were never found. For example, another common border crossing, the Stara Planina mountain range between Bulgaria and Serbia, is a rough and inaccessible terrain. Only those who have been driven to this route by the same fate will come across the bodies, and they will not risk encountering authorities to report it.

      If people die in the minefields remaining from the wars in Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina, there will not be much left of their bodies. Most bodies were found drowned in rivers, but there is no estimate of how many who drowned were never reported missing, or were never found.

      The Croatian Ministry of the Interior provided us with data on migrants who have died in Croatia since 2015, when records began to be kept, until the end of November 2023: according to the data, a total of 87 migrants died on the territory of the Republic of Croatia. To put it more precisely: that’s how many bodies were found in Croatia. Not a single official body in Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina and Serbia keeps records of migrants buried in that territory.

      However, we managed to obtain data for Croatia, thanks to inquiries sent to over 500 addresses of cities, municipalities and municipal companies that manage cemeteries. According to the data obtained, there are 59 graves of migrants in 32 cemeteries in Croatia who were buried in the last decade, namely from 2014 until September 2023. Of these, 45 have not been identified. The Ministry of the Interior says that since 2001, DNA samples have been taken from all unidentified bodies. We asked the Ministry to allow us to talk with experts who work on the identification of migrants, but we were not approved.

      Some of the buried were exhumed and returned to their families in their country of origin, although this is a demanding and extremely expensive process for the families.
      The burden of not knowing

      Among the NN graves is a stillborn baby from Syria buried in 2015 in the town of Slavonski Brod. A five-year-old girl who drowned in the Danube was buried in Dalje in 2021. Last summer, a young man died of exhaustion in the highlands in the Dubrovnik area. Some were hit by a train. Many died of hypothermia. Some die because they were not provided medical help early enough. Some don’t believe anything can help them, so they committed suicide.

      According to the law, they are buried closest to the place of death, which are mostly small cemeteries, such as the one in Siče. Often, just like in that village, their graves are separated from the rest of the cemetery. In some places, like in Otok, one of the tender-hearted local women has given herself the task of taking care of the NN grave. In others, like the cemetery in Prilišće, the NN wooden cross from 2019 has already rotted.

      Each of these NN graves leaves behind loved ones who bear the burden of not knowing what happened. In psychology, this is called ambiguous loss, which means that as long as relatives do not have confirmation that their loved ones are dead, and as long as they do not know where their bodies are, they cannot mourn them.

      If they go on with their lives, they feel guilty. And so they remain frozen in a state between despair and hope. American psychologist Dr. Pauline Boss is the author of the concept and theory of “ambiguous loss.”

      “A grave is so important because it helps to say goodbye,“ she said in an interview for our investigation.

      There are also practical consequences of this frozen state: succession rights cannot be carried out, bank accounts cannot be accessed, family pensions cannot be obtained, the partner cannot remarry, and custody of children is complicated.

      Many families in Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina know ambiguous loss very well. Both countries went through war in the 1990s that left thousands of people missing.

      Both countries have special laws on the missing in those wars and well-developed mechanisms of search, identification, data storage and mutual cooperation. But this does not apply to migrants who vanish and die among the thousands who are on the move along the Balkan Route.
      Croatia responsible for death of a child

      Croatia became an important point of entry into the European Union after Hungary closed its borders in September 2015. From then until March 2016, it is estimated that around 660,000 refugees passed through the Croatian section of the Balkan corridor – the interstate, organised route. This corridor allowed them to get from Greece to Western Europe in two or three days. Most importantly, their journey was safe.

      Of these hundreds of thousands of people on the move, the Croatian Ministry of the Interior did not record a single death in 2015 and 2016.

      The corridor was established to prevent casualties after a large number of refugees died on the railway in Macedonia in the spring of 2015. However, with the conclusion of the EU-Turkey refugee agreement in March 2016, the corridor closed. The EU committed to generously funding Turkey to keep refugees on its territory, so that they do not come to the European Union. And so the perilous, informal Balkan Route remained the only option. Many take it. In the first ten months of 2023 alone, the Croatian police recorded 62,452 actions related to illegal border crossings.

      Both the Croatian Ombudswoman Tena Šimonović Einwalter and Council of Europe Human Rights Commissioner Dunja Mijatović warn of the same thing: border and migration policies have a clear impact on the risk of migrants going missing or die. It is necessary to establish legal and safe migration routes in the EU.

      However, the EU expects Croatia to protect its external border, and Croatia is doing so wholeheartedly. Croatian Minister of the Interior Davor Božinović calls such practices “techniques of discouragement” and says they are fully in line with the EU Schengen Border Code.

      The result of such practices is, for example, the death of Madina Hussiny. The six-year-old girl from Afghanistan was struck by a train and killed after Croatian police “discouraged” her and her family away from the Croatian border and told them to follow train tracks back to Serbia in the middle of the night in 2017. The European Court of Human Rights ruled in November 2021 that Croatia was responsible for Madina’s death.

      In a typical “discouragement,” Croatian police transport people to points along the border and order them to cross. In the testimonies we heard, as well as in many reports of non-governmental organisations, people described having to wade or swim across rivers, climb over rocks or make their way through dense forest. They often cross at night, sometimes stripped naked, and without knowing the way because the police usually take away their mobile phones.

      Up to 80% of all pushbacks by Croatian police may be impacted by one or more forms of torture, indicates data collected by Border Violence Monitoring Network in 2019. That means that thousands were victims of border torture.

      According to data collected by the Danish Refugee Council, in the two-year period from the beginning of 2020 to the end of 2022, at least 30,000 people were pushed back to Bosnia and Herzegovina.
      “While trying to reach Europe”

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=112&v=SFLYVVtsjGc&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fu

      Among them is Arat Semiullah from Afghanistan. In November 2022, he intended to cross the Sava River and enter Croatia from Bosnia. He was 20 years old. He drowned and was buried at the Orthodox cemetery in Banja Luka. His family in Afghanistan did not know what happened to him. He had sent his mom a selfie with a fresh haircut for entering the European Union and then he stopped answering.

      The mother begged her nephew Payman Sediqi, who lives in Germany, to try to find him. Payman got in touch with the activist Nihad Suljić, who voluntarily helps families find out what happened to their loved ones in Bosnia and Herzegovina. They spent weeks trying to get information. Payman travelled to Bosnia and managed to find his relative thanks to the helpfulness of a policewoman who showed him forensic photographs. Arat’s mom confirmed by phone that it was her son.

      Arat’s obituary published in Bosnia and Herzegovina said that “Croatian police sank the boat using firearms, and he tragically drowned.” With the help of the Muslim community, and at the request of the family, his body was transferred to the Muslim cemetery in the village of Kamičani. The family wanted to bury him in Afghanistan, but it was too expensive and bureaucratically complicated.

      In September 2023, we met with Nihad and Payman when a large tombstone was erected for Arat. It says, “Drowned in the Sava River while trying to reach Europe.” Payman told us that Arat was crossing the Sava with a group of others trying to enter Europe. Some of them managed to cross over to the Croatian side, but then the Croatian police shot at the rubber boat Arat was in. The boat sank and Arat drowned. That’s what a survivor who crossed over to the Croatian bank of the Sava told Payman. Payman says that Arat’s family is in great pain, but at least they know where their son is and that he was buried according to their religious customs. It is important to Payman that his relative’s grave says he died as a migrant.

      “People die every day in Europe, fleeing countries where there is no life for them. Their dreams are buried in Europe. No one cares about them, not even when European policemen shoot at them,” Payman says.

      Payman knows what kind of dreams he’s talking about. He himself came to Germany illegally at the age of 16. He says he was lucky.

      Nihad advocates that other graves of migrants in Bosnia and Herzegovina also be permanently marked as such. He takes us to the cemetery in the town of Zvornik, where 17 NN migrants are buried. Nihad says he was informed that some of them had their passport on them when they were found. From the cemetery, you can see the river Drina, which separates Serbia from Bosnia and where many lives have been lost during crossing attempts. About 30 bodies were found in the Drina this year alone. Nihad says that they are lucky if they wash up on the Bosnian riverbanks, because in Serbia the authorities often do not perform autopsies nor take DNA samples. This was confirmed to us by activists from Serbia. In those cases, they are forever and completely lost to their families.

      The earthen NN graves in Zvornik are overgrown and not demarcated, so you wouldn’t know if you are stepping on them. Nihad managed to convince the Town of Zvornik to replace the wooden signs with black stone. It is important to him that they are buried with dignity, but he also finds it important that they stand there as a memorial.

      “My wish is that even 100 years from now these graves stand as monuments of the EU’s shame. Because it was not the river that killed these people, but the EU border regime,” Nihad says.

      https://unbiasthenews.org/unmarked-monuments-of-eus-shame-croatia-bosnia

      #Bosnie #Croatie #Zvornik #Madina_Hussiny

    • Counting the invisible victims of Spain’s EU borders

      Investigation finds hundreds of victims of migration to the EU lie in unmarked graves along Spain’s borders, with government taking no coordinated action to guarantee “last rights.”

      In January 2020, Alhassane Bangoura was buried in an unmarked grave in the Muslim area of Teguise municipal cemetery in Lanzarote as city officials and members of the local Muslim community watched on. He had been born only a couple of weeks earlier onboard a cramped patera migrant boat on which his mother, who is from Guinea, and 42 others were trying to reach the Spanish Canary Islands. Their boat was adrift on the Atlantic ocean after its motor had failed two days earlier, and Alhassane’s mother had gone into labour at sea. Her child only lived for a few hours before dying just off the coast of Lanzarote.

      Alhassane’s case shocked the island and made national news. Yet as mourners paid their respects, his mother was 200 kilometres away in a migrant reception centre on the neighbouring island of Gran Canaria, having been unable to get permission from authorities to remain on Lanzarote for the funeral.

      “She’d been allowed to see the body of her son one more time before being transferred, and I accompanied her to the funeral home,” says Mamadou Sy, a representative of the local Muslim community. “It was very emotional as she was leaving. All we could do was promise her that her son would not be alone; that like any Muslim, he’d be brought to the Mosque where his body would be washed by other mothers; that we would pray for him and that afterwards we’d send her a video of the burial.”

      Nearly four years later, Alhassane’s final resting place remains without a formal headstone. It lies next to more than three dozen graves of unidentified migrants – whose names are completely unknown but who, like Alhassane, are also victims of Europe’s brutal border regime.

      Border Graves

      Such a scene is no anomaly along Spain’s vast coastline. Border graves like these can be found in cemeteries stretching from Alicante on the country’s eastern Mediterranean coast to Cádiz on the Atlantic seaboard and south to the Canaries. Some have names but, more often than not, the inscription reads some variation of “unidentified migrant,” “unknown Moroccan,” or “victim of the Strait [of Gibraltar],” or there is simply a hand-painted cross.

      In Barbate cemetery in Cádiz, where the deceased are sealed into niches in traditional brick-walled stacks around two metres in height, groundskeeper Germán points out over 30 different migrant graves, the earliest of which date from 2002 and the most recent are from a shipwreck in 2019.

      "No one ever comes to visit, but on days when there are funerals here and flowers are about to be thrown out, I place them on the tombs containing the unknown migrants,” he explains. “In some of the older graves, you have the remains of up to five or six migrants together, each placed in separate sacks within the same niche to save space.”

      Along the coast, in Tarifa, Spain’s earliest mass grave of unidentified migrants, containing 11 victims from a 1988 shipwreck, overlooks the northern reaches of the African continent, which can be seen on a clear day. Meanwhile, around 400 kilometres west of the African coast, on the remote Canarian island of El Hierro, seven unidentified migrants have been buried in the last two months, along with the remains of 30-year old Mamadou Marea. “Locals joined us to accompany the remains of each of these people to their last resting place,” explains Amado Carballo, a councillor on El Hierro. “What upset all of us was not being able to put a name on the tombstone and simply having to leave the person identified by a police code.”

      Such concern was less evident in Arrecife, Lanzarote where two unidentified graves from February this year have been left sealed with a covering that still bears a corporate logo.

      There is no comprehensive data on how many identified and unidentified migrant graves exist in Spain, and the country’s Interior Ministry has never released figures for the total number of bodies recovered across the various maritime migration routes. But in exclusive data from the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), Unbias The News can reveal that the bodies of an estimated 530 people who died at Spain’s borders were recovered between 2014 and 2021 – of which 292 remain unidentified.

      In the six month Europe-wide Border Graves Investigation, undertaken in conjunction with Unbias the News, The Guardian and Süddeutsche Zeitung, 109 unidentified migrant graves from 2014-21 were confirmed in Spain across 18 locations. According to a study by the University of Amsterdam, a further 434 unidentified graves stem from 2000-2013 in at least 65 cemeteries.

      These graves are symbols of a much wider humanitarian tragedy. The ICRC estimates that just 6.89% of those who go missing on Europe’s borders are found, while the Spanish NGO Walking Borders gives an even lower figure for the West African Atlantic route to the Canaries, estimating that only 4.2 percent of the bodies of those who die are ever recovered.

      Guaranteeing “last rights”

      The unvisited and anonymous graves are also a reflection of the fact that the rights to both identification and a dignified burial for those who have died on migration routes have been consistently neglected by national authorities in Spain. As in other European countries, successive Spanish governments have failed to develop legal mechanisms and state protocols to guarantee these “last rights” of victims, as well as their families’ corresponding “right to know” and to mourn their loved ones.

      The problem is “utterly neglected,” says Dunja Mijatović, the Council of Europe’s Commissioner for Human Rights, who insists that EU countries are failing in their obligations under international human rights law to secure families’ “right to truth”. In 2021, the European Parliament passed a resolution calling for “prompt and effective identification processes” to inform families about the fate of their loved ones. Yet last year, the Council of Europe called the area a “legislative void.”

      “People are always calling the office and asking us how to search for a family member, but you have to be honest and say there’s no clear official channel they can turn to,” explains Juan Carlos Lorenzo, director of the Spanish Refugee Council (CEAR) on the Canary Islands. “You can put them in touch with the Red Cross, but there’s no government-led programme of identification. Nor is there the type of dedicated office needed to coordinate with families and centralise information and data on missing migrants.”

      This year alone we are working with over 600 families whose loved ones have disappeared. These families, who are from Morocco, Algeria, Senegal, Guinea and as far afield as Sri Lanka are very much alone and are poorly protected by public administrations. In turn, this means that there are criminal networks and fraudsters seeking to extract money from them.”
      Helena Maleno, director of Walking Borders

      Even in the case of a victim’s identification, a recent report from the Human Rights Association of Andalucia lays out the legal and financial barriers families face in terms of repatriating their loved ones. In 2020/21, ICRC figures show that 284 bodies were recovered but that, of the 116 identified, only 53 were repatriated. The Andalusian Association for Human Rights (APDHA) report also notes, with respect to border graves, that “many people end up buried in a manner contrary to their beliefs.” Just half of Spain’s 50 provinces have Muslim cemeteries, not all of which are on the Spanish coast.

      For Maleno, these state failures are no accident: “Spain and other European states have a policy of making the victims, as well as the border itself, invisible. You have policies of denying the number of dead and of concealing data, but for the families this means obstacles in terms of accessing information and burial rights, as well as endless bureaucratic hurdles.”
      “I dream of Oussama”

      Abdallah Tayeb has gained first-hand experience of the dysfunctionality of the Spanish system in his attempts to confirm whether a body recovered almost a year ago is that of his cousin Oussama, a young barber from Algeria who dreamed of joining Tayeb in France.

      The unnamed corpse, which Tayeb strongly believes is his cousin, is currently in a morgue in Almería and looks set to be buried in an unmarked grave in the new year – unless he can achieve a last minute breakthrough.

      “The feeling is one of powerlessness,” he admits. “Nothing is transparent.”

      Abdallah Tayeb was born in Paris to Algerian parents but spends every summer in Algeria with his family. “As Oussama and I were pretty much the same age, we were really close. He was obsessed with the idea of coming to Europe, as two of his brothers were already living in France. But I didn’t know he had actually arranged to leave on a patera last December.”

      Oussama was among 23 people (including seven children) who vanished after setting out from Mostaganem, Algeria, on a motor boat on Christmas Day 2022. Soon after the patera went missing, his brother Sofiane travelled from France to Cartagena in southern Spain – the destination the vessel had hoped to reach. With the help of the Red Cross, Sofiane was able to file a missing persons report with the Spanish authorities and submit a DNA sample, which he hopes will result in a match with a body held in a morgue. However, so far, he has been unable to piece together any concrete information regarding his brother’s fate.

      A second trip to Spain in February did lead to a breakthrough, however. After driving down the Mediterranean coast together, Tayeb and his cousin Sofiane managed to speak to a forensic pathologist working in the Almería morgue, who seemed to recognise a photo of Oussama. “She kept saying ‘This face looks familiar’ and also mentioned a necklace – something he’d been wearing when he left.” According to the pathologist, there was a potential match with an unidentified body recovered by the coastguard on 27 December 2022.

      Feeling that they were finally close to getting some answers, they were informed at the police headquarters in Almería that, in order to view the body for a visual identification, they would need permission from the police station where the corpse had initially been registered. “This was when the real nightmare began,” Tayeb remembers. Handed a list of five police stations from across the wider region where the corpse could have been registered, they spent the next two days driving from station to station along the Murcian coast.

      “The first police station we visited wouldn’t even let us in the door when we told them we were asking about a missing migrant, and after that it was always the same script: this is not the right place; we don’t have a body; you have to go there instead.” When the pair returned to the first station in Huércal de Almeria after being repeatedly told it was the right place to ask, impatient officers refused to engage, citing privacy laws, and even told them to warn other families searching for missing migrants not to keep coming to inquire.

      “In the end,” Tayeb explains, “we came to the reality that they will never let us have any information. It was very heartbreaking, especially going back to France. It felt like we were leaving him [there] in the fridge.”

      As the subsequent months passed, the frustration and anxiety built for the family. “In May we were told that the DNA sample we gave five months earlier had only just arrived in Madrid and had still not been processed and sent to the database.” No further information has been forthcoming, and Spanish authorities have a policy of only getting in touch with families when there is a positive match and not if the test comes back negative.

      Tayeb is contemplating one final visit to Spain to try and retrieve his cousin Oussama, partly to be certain for his own sake that he’s done everything in his power to find him, but he’s worried that the journey could reopen his trauma of ambiguous loss. “The effort of going is not painful, but what is painful is coming back with nothing,” he says. “This lack of information is the worst thing.”

      “All the people on board were from the same neighbourhood in Mostaganem. I have had a chance to talk to many of their families, and they are destroyed. There is such grief but also no answers. There are only rumours, and some of the mothers believe their sons are in prisons in Morocco and Spain. We all have dreams [about the missing]. In the end, you trust what you will see in your dreams, like cosmic reality telling you he is coming. I dream of Oussama.”

      Dr Pauline Boss, professor emeritus of psychology at the University of Minnesota, USA, explains the concept of ambiguous loss: “It looks like complicated grief, intrusive thoughts,” she says. “There’s nothing else on your mind but the fact that your loved one is missing. You can’t grieve because that would mean the person is dead, and you don’t know for sure.”
      A defective system

      Of all the families of those who went missing on Oussama’s patera, only Tayeb and four other families have been able to file a missing persons report with the Spanish authorities, and only two have been able to give a DNA sample. According to a 2021 study from the International Organization for Migration (IOM), one of the major complications families face in their searches is that in order to register someone as a missing person in Spain, you have to file a report with police in the country itself, which for many families is “a virtually impossible feat” as there are no visas to travel for this purpose.

      The IOM report also notes that, while many families file missing person reports in their home countries, they are “aware of the almost symbolic nature of their efforts” and that “it will never result in any kind of investigation being launched in Spain.”

      Along with the IOM, there have been efforts by domestic NGOs, including APDHA and more than a hundred grassroots organisations, to call out Spain’s failure to adapt existing missing person procedures to the transnational challenges of cases of people who disappeared while migrating. These organisations have repeatedly argued that the country’s legal framework regarding missing persons must be adapted to ensure families can file missing person cases from abroad.

      They have also pushed for the development of specific protocols for police handling cases of disappeared migrants, as well as the creation of a missing-migrant database so as to centralise information and allow it to be exchanged with authorities in other countries. The latter would include a full range of both post-mortem data (from tattoos to DNA, through cadaveric inspections and autopsies) and antemortem medical forensic information, that is, that which comes from family members regarding the missing person.

      “The reality is that the situation across Europe is consistently poor,” explains Julia Black, an analyst with IOM’s Missing Migrant Project. “Despite our research showing these pressing needs of families, neither Spain nor any other European country has significantly changed policy or practice to help this neglected group [in recent years]. Support for families is available only on a very ad hoc basis, mostly in response to mass casualty events that are in the public eye, which leaves many thousands of people without meaningful support.”

      Non-state actors such as the Red Cross and Walking Borders, as well as a network of independent activists, try to fill this void. “It’s a terrible job that we shouldn’t be doing, because states should be responding to families and guaranteeing the rights of victims across borders,” Maleno explains. In the case of the Mostaganem patera, Walking Borders is now planning to visit Algeria next year to take DNA samples from family members and bring them back to Spain. But Maleno also acknowledges that her NGO often has to then “apply a lot of pressure” to get authorities to accept these samples.

      This is something left-wing MP Jon Iñarritu from the Basque EH Bildu party also confirms: “As I sit on the Spanish parliament’s Interior Committee, I’ve had to intervene on a number of occasions to help families seeking to register DNA samples, talking with the foreign ministry or the interior ministry to get them to accept the samples. But it shouldn’t require action from an MP to get this to happen. The whole process needs to be standardised with clear and automatic protocols [for submission]. Right now, there’s no one clear way to do it.”

      Even when IOM recommendations have become the subject of parliamentary debate in Spain, they have tended not to translate into government action. In 2021, for example, a resolution was passed by the Spanish Congress calling on the government to establish a dedicated state office for the families of disappeared migrants. “It’s clear we need to ease the administrative and bureaucratic ordeal for families by offering them a single point of contact [with state authorities],” explains Iñarritu, who sponsored the motion.

      Yet while even government parties voted in favour of the resolution, the countries’ current centre-left administration has failed to act on it in the 18 months since. “From my point of view, the government has no intention of implementing the proposal,” Iñarritu argues. “They were only offering symbolic support.”

      When the above points were put to Spain’s Interior ministry, the reply was that: “The treatment of unidentified corpses arriving on the Spanish coast is identical to that of any other corpse. In Spain, for the identification of corpses, the law enforcement agencies apply the INTERPOL Disaster Victim Identification Guide. Although this guide is especially indicated for events with multiple victims, it is also used as a reference for the identification of an isolated corpse.”

      NGOs and campaigners insist, however, that the application of the INTERPOL guide is no substitute for a specific protocol tailored to the demands of missing migrant cases or for the creation of particular mechanisms to allow for the exchange of information with families and authorities in other jurisdictions.

      Close connections with the people they have helped compensate for strained social interactions and online hate. “They call me brother, sister, and even father,” Rybak shares.
      Burial rights

      APDHA migration director Carlos Arce argues that, within a European framework that views irregular migration predominantly “through the prism of serious crime and border security, […] not even death or disappearance puts an end to the repeated assault on the dignity of migrant people.” Iñarritu also points to the EU’s wider border regime: “Many issues that don’t fit into this dominant policy framework, such as the right to identification, are simply left unmanaged on a day-to-day basis. They are simply not a priority.”

      This is also clear with respect to the Spanish government’s inaction on guaranteeing a dignified burial to those whose bodies are recovered. As noted by a 2023 report from APDHA, “while repatriation is the most desired option for families […,] the cost is very high (thousands of euros) and very few of their [home countries’] embassies help [to cover it].” The NGO recommends that Spain establish repatriation agreements with the countries where migrants come from so as to create “mortuary safe passages” guaranteeing their return at a reduced cost.

      Furthermore, Spain’s central government has also failed to put in place mechanisms to ensure the right of unidentified migrants to a dignified burial within the country, instead maintaining that local councils are responsible for all charitable burials. This has meant that very specific municipalities where coastguard rescue boats are stationed are left legally responsible for the bulk of the interments – and most of these municipalities lack local cemeteries able to cater for traditional Muslim burials.

      The potential for this issue to become a flashpoint for anti-immigration sentiment was made clear this September when the mayor of Mogán in Gran Canaria, Onalia Bueno, insisted that her municipality would no longer pay for such burials, as she did not want to “detract the costs from the taxes of my neighbours.”

      CEAR’s Juan Carlos Lorenzo condemns such “divisive language, which frames the issue in terms of wasting my ‘neighbours’ money’ on someone who is not a neighbour,” and points instead to the actions of municipalities in El Hierro as a positive counterexample.

      Carballo notes that “over 10,000 people have arrived in El Hierro since September, the same as the island’s population. These are quite long trips, between six and nine days at sea, and right now people are arriving in a terrible state of health. With those who have died in recent months, we’ve tried to offer them a dignified burial within the means at our disposal. We’ve had an imam present, with Islamic prayers said before the remains were laid to rest.”

      Currently, the responsibility of memorialising unidentified victims comes down to individual municipalities and even cemetery keepers. Like Gérman at the cemetery in Barbate, who tries to dignify the unmarked tombs by placing flowers on top of them, the cemetery of Motril has adorned tombs with poems. In Teguise, the council has an initiative encouraging locals to leave flowers on the migrant graves when they come to visit the remains of their own families.

      In another memorial, a collection of around 50 discarded fishing boats has become a distinctive feature of Barbate port. These small wooden boats with Arabic script on their hulls were used by migrants attempting to cross the Strait of Gibraltar. Instead of the boats’ being scrapped, APDHA was able to convert the scrapyard into a memorial site and to place plaques on boats stating how many migrants were travelling on them and where and when they were found.

      In the case of little Alhassane Bangoura, residents routinely come to leave fresh flowers and tokens of affection, among which is a small granite bowl with his first name inscribed on it. But many victims are buried without any attempt at identification – and as countless NGOs, politicians and activists demand, it should not be simply left to good-willed residents, grave keepers or local councillors to ensure the last rights of the victims of Fortress Europe.

      https://unbiasthenews.org/counting-the-invisible-victims-of-spains-eu-borders

      #Espagne #Lanzarote #îles_Canaries #route_Atlantique #Teguise #Barbate #Cádiz #Tarifa #Arrecife

    • The unidentified: Unmarked refugee graves on the Greek borders

      Graves marked only with a stick, graves covered with weeds: a cross-border investigation documents official indifference surrounding the dignified burial of refugees who lose their lives at the Greek border.

      The phone rang on a morning in October 2022 at work, in Finland, where 35-year-old Mohamed Samim has been living for the last ten years or so.

      His nephew did not have good news: his brother Samim, Tarin Mohamad, along with his son and two daughters, was on a boat that sank near a Greek island, having sailed from the Turkish coast to Italy.

      When Samim arrived in Kythera the next day, he learned that – although weak after not eating for three days – his brother had managed to save his family before a wave took him away. He immediately went to the site of the wreck. In the water he saw bodies floating – he couldn’t see his brother’s face, but he recognized his back.

      The Coast Guard said that the bad weather had to pass before they could pull the dead from the sea. The first day passed, the second day passed, until on the third day it was finally possible. The coastguard confirmed that 8 Beaufort winds and the morphology of the area made it impossible to retrieve the bodies. Samim will never forget the sight of his brother at sea.

      In Kalamata, it took four days of shifting responsibility between the hospital and the Coast Guard, and the help of a local lawyer who “came and yelled at them” to allow him to follow the identification process of his brother.

      He was warned that it would be a soul-crushing procedure, and that he would have to wear a triple mask because of the smell. Samim says that due to a lack of space in the morgue’s refrigerators, some of the wreck victims were kept in the chamber outside the refrigerator.

      “The stress and the smell. Our knees were shaking”, recalls Samim when we meet him in Kythera a year later.

      They started showing him decomposing bodies. First the ones outside the refrigerator. He didn’t recognize him among them. They went out and changed the masks they wore, returned, opened the refrigerators in turn, reaching the last one.

      “He was lying there, calm. The man you love. We were kind of happy that, after days, we could see him,” Samim said.

      Unclaimed dead

      The number of people dying at Europe’s borders is growing. In addition to the difficulty of recording the deaths, there is also the challenge of identifying the bodies, a traumatic process for the relatives. In some cases, however, there are bodies that remain unidentified, hundreds of men, women and children buried in unidentified graves.

      In July 2023, the European Parliament adopted a resolution recognising the right to identification of people who lose their lives trying to reach Europe, but to date there is no centralised registration system at a pan-European level. Nor is there a single procedure for the handling of bodies that end up in mortuaries, funeral homes – even refrigerated containers.

      The problem is “utterly neglected”, European Commissioner for Human Rights Dunja Mijatovic told Solomon, and added that EU countries are failing in their obligations under international human rights law”. The tragedy of the missing migrants has reached horrifying proportions. The issue requires immediate action,” she added.

      The International Organization for Migration’s (IOM) Missing Migrants platform, which acknowledges that its data is not a comprehensive record, reports more than 1,090 missing refugees and migrants in Europe since 2014.

      As part of the Border Graves investigation, eight European journalists, together with Unbias the News, the Guardian, Süddeutsche Zeitung, and Solomon, have spent seven months investigating what happens to the thousands of unidentified bodies of those who die at European borders, and for the first time they have recorded almost double that number: according to the data collected, more than 2,162 people died between 2014 and 2023.

      We studied documents and interviewed state coroners, prosecutors and funeral home workers; residents and relatives of the deceased and missing; and gained exclusive access to unpublished data from the International Committee of the Red Cross.

      In 65 cemeteries along the European border - Greece, Spain, Italy, Malta, Poland, Lithuania, France, Spain, Italy, Malta, Lithuania, France and Croatia - we have recorded more than 1,000 unidentified graves from the last decade.

      The investigation documents how state indifference to the dignified burial of people who die at the border is pervasive in European countries.

      In Greece, we recorded more than 540 unidentified refugee graves, 54% of the total recorded by the European survey. We travelled to the Aegean islands and Evros, and found graves in fields sometimes covered by weeds, and marble slabs with dates of death erased, while in other cases a piece of wood with a number is the only marking.

      The data from our survey, combined with the data from the International Committee of the Red Cross, is not an exhaustive account of the issue. However, they do capture for the first time the gaps and difficulties of a system that leads to thousands of families not knowing where their relatives are buried.

      Lesvos: 167 unidentified refugee graves

      A long dirt road surrounded by olive trees leads to the gate of the cemetery of Kato Tritos, which is usually locked with a padlock.

      The “graveyard of refugees,” as they call it on the island, is located about 15 kilometers west of Mytilene. It is the only burial site exclusively for refugees and migrants in Greece.

      During one of our visits, the funeral of four children was taking place. They lost their lives on August 28, 2023, when the boat they were on with 18 other people sank southeast of Lesvos.

      The grieving mother and several women, including family members, sat under a tree, while the men prayed near the shed used for the burial process, according to Islamic tradition.

      In Kato Tritos and Agios Panteleimonas, the cemetery on Mytilene where people who died while migrating had been buried until then, we counted a total of 167 unidentified graves from between 2014-2023.

      Local journalist and former member of the North Aegean Regional Council Nikos Manavis explains that the cemetery was created in 2015 in an olive grove belonging to the municipality of Mytilene due to an emergency: a deadly shipwreck in the north of the island on October 28 of that year resulted in at least 60 dead, for whom the island’s cemeteries were not sufficient.

      Many shipwreck victims remain buried in unidentified graves. Gravestones are marked with the estimated age of the deceased and the date of burial, sometimes only a number. Other times, a piece of wood and surrounding stones mark the grave.

      “What we see is a field, not a graveyard. It shows no respect for the people who were buried here.”
      Nikos Manavis

      This lack of respect for the Lower Third Cemetery mobilized the Earth Medicine organization. As Dimitris Patounis, a member of the NGO, explains, in January 2022 they made a proposal to the municipality of Mytilene for the restoration of the cemetery. Their plan is to create a place of rest with respect and dignity, where refugees and asylum seekers can satisfy the most sacred human need, mourning for their loved ones.

      Although the city council approved the proposal in the spring of 2023, the October municipal elections delayed the project. Patounis says he is positive that the graves will soon be inventoried and the area fenced.

      Christos Mavrachilis, an undertaker at the Agios Panteleimon cemetery, recalls that in 2015 Muslim refugees were buried in a specific area of the cemetery.

      “If someone was unidentified, I would write ‘Unknown’ on their grave,” he says. If there were no relatives who could cover the cost, Mavrachilis would cut a marble himself and write as much information as he could on the death certificate. “They were people too,” he says, “I did what I could.”

      For his part, Thomas Vanavakis, a former owner of a funeral parlour that offered services in Lesvos until 2020, also says that they often had to cover burials without receiving payment. “Do you know how many times we went into the sea and paid workers out of our own pockets to pull out the bodies and didn’t get a penny?” he says.

      Efi Latsoudi, who lives in Lesvos and works for Refugee Support Aegean (RSA), says that in 2015 there were burials that the municipality of Mytilene could not cover, and sometimes “the people who participated in the ceremony paid for them. We were trying to give a dignity to the process. But it was not enough,” she says.

      Latsoudi recalls something a refugee had mentioned to her in 2015: ’The worst thing that can happen to us is to die somewhere far away and have no one at our funeral’.

      The municipality of Mytilene did not answer our questions regarding the dignified burial of refugees in the cemeteries under its responsibility.

      Chios and Samos: graves covered by weeds

      According to Greek legislation, the local government (and in case of its inability, the region) covers the cost of the burial of both unidentified people who die at the border and those who are in financial difficulty.

      For its part, the Municipal Authority of Chios stated that funding is provided for the relevant costs, and that “within the framework of its responsibilities for the cemeteries, it maintains and cares for all the sites, without discrimination and with the required respect for all the dead.”

      But during our visit in August to the cemetery in Mersinidi, a few kilometers north of Chios town, where refugees are buried next to the graves of the locals, it was not difficult to spot the separation: the five unidentified graves of refugees were marked simply by a marble, usually covered by vegetation.

      Natasha Strachini, an RSA lawyer living in Chios, has taken part in several funerals of refugees both in Chios and Lesvos. For her, the importance of the local community and presence at such a difficult human moment is very important.

      Regarding burials, he explains that “only a good registration system could help relatives to locate the grave of a person they have lost, as usually in cemeteries after three to five years exhumations take place.” He says that sometimes a grave remains unidentified even though the body has been identified, either because the identification process was delayed or because the relatives could not afford to change the grave.

      In Heraion of Samos, next to the municipal cemetery, on a plot of land owned by the Metropolis and used as a burial site for refugees, we recorded dozens of graves dating between 2014-2023. The plaques – some broken – placed on the ground, hidden by branches, pine needles and pine cones, simply inscribe a number and the date of burial.

      Lawyer Dimitris Choulis, who lives in Samos and handles cases related to the refugee issue, commented: ‘It is a shameful image to see such graves. It is unjustifiable for a modern society like Greece.”
      Searching for data

      The International Committee of the Red Cross is one of the few international organisations working to identify the dead refugees. Among other things, they have conducted several training sessions in Greece for members of the Coast Guard and the Greek Police.

      “We have an obligation to provide the dead with a dignified burial; and the other side, providing answers to families through identification of the dead. If you count the relatives of those who are missing, hundreds of thousands of people are impacted. They don’t know where their loved ones are. Were they well treated, were they respected when they were buried? That’s what preys on families’ minds,” says Laurel Clegg, ICRC forensic Coordinator for Migration to Europe.

      She explains that keeping track of the dead “consists of lots of parts working well together – a legal framework that protects the unidentified dead, consistent post-mortems, morgues, registries, dignified transport, cemeteries”

      However, countries’ “medical and legal systems are proving inadequate to deal with the scale of the problem,” she says.

      Since 2013, as part of its programme to restore family links, the Red Cross has registered 16,500 requests in Europe from people looking for their missing relatives. According to the international organisation, only 285 successful matches (1.7%) have been made.

      These matches are made by the local forensic experts.

      “We always collect DNA samples from unidentified bodies. It is standard practice and may be the only feasible means of identification,” says Panagiotis Kotretsos, a forensic pathologist in Rhodes. The samples are sent to the DNA laboratory of the Criminal Investigation Department of the Greek Police, according to an INTERPOL protocol.

      According to the Red Cross, difficulties usually arise when families are outside the EU, and are due to a number of factors, such as differences in the legal framework or medical systems of the countries. For example, some EU countries cannot ‘open’ a case and take DNA samples from families without a mandate from the authorities of the country where the body of the relative being sought has been recovered.

      The most difficult part of the DNA identification process is that there needs to be a second sample to be compared with the one collected by the forensic experts, which has to be sent by the families of the missing persons. “For a refugee who started his journey from a country in central Africa, travelled for months, and died in Greece, there will be genetic material in the morgue. But it will remain unmatched until a first-degree relative sends a DNA sample,” says Kotretsos.

      He explains that this is not always possible. “We have received calls from relatives who were in Syria, looking for missing family members, and could not send samples precisely because they were in Syria.”

      Outside the university hospital of Alexandroupolis, two refrigerated containers provided by the Red Cross as temporary mortuaries house the bodies of 40 refugees.

      Pavlos Pavlidis, Professor of Forensic Medicine at the Democritus University of Thrace, has since 2000 performed autopsies on at least 800 bodies of people on the move, with the main causes of death being drowning in the waters of Evros and hypothermia.

      The forensic scientist goes beyond the necessary DNA collection: he or she records data such as birthmarks or tattoos and objects (like wallets, rings, glasses), which could be the missing link for a relative looking for a loved one.

      He says a total of 313 bodies found in Evros since 2014 remain unidentified. Those that cannot be identified are buried in a special cemetery in Sidiro, which is managed by the municipality of Soufli, while 15-20 unidentified bodies were buried in Orestiada while the Sidiro cemetery was being expanded.

      The bodies of Muslim refugees who are identified are buried in the Muslim cemetery in Messouni Komotini or repatriated when relatives can cover the cost of repatriation.

      “This is not decent”

      In response to questions, the Ministry of Immigration and Asylum said that the issue of identification and burial procedures for refugees does not fall within its competence. A Commission spokesman said that no funds were foreseen for Greece, but that such expenditure “could be supported under the National Programme of the Asylum, Migration and Integration Fund”, which is managed by the Migration Ministry.

      Theodoros Nousias is the chief forensic pathologist of the North Aegean Forensic Service, responsible for the islands of Lesvos, Samos, Chios and Lemnos. According to the coroner, the DNA identification procedure has improved a lot compared to a few years ago.

      Nusias says he was always available when asked to identify someone. “You have to serve people, that’s why you’re there. To serve people so they can find their family,” he adds.

      The coroner lives in Lesvos, but says he has never been to the cemetery in Kato Tritos. “I don’t want to go. It will be difficult for me because most of these people have passed through my hands.”

      In October 2022, 32-year-old Suja Ahmadi and his sister Marina also travelled to Kythera and then to Kalamata to identify the body of their father, Abdul Ghasi.

      The 65-year-old had started the journey to Italy with his wife Hatige – she survived. The two brothers visited the hospital, where they were shown all eight bodies, male and female, although they had explained from the start that the man they were looking for was a man.

      Their father’s body was among those outside the freezer.

      “My sister was crying and screaming at them to get our father out of the refrigerator container because he smelled,” Suja recalls. “It was not a decent place for a man.”

      https://unbiasthenews.org/the-unidentified-unmarked-refugee-graves-in-the-greek-borders

      #Grèce #Chios #Evros #Samos #Alexandroupolis #Lesbos #Kato_Tritos #Sidiro #Mersinidi #Mersinidi #Pavlos_Pavlidis

    • Enterrar a más de mil personas sin nombre: las trabas de la UE y España para identificar los cuerpos de migrantes

      Cientos de personas fallecidas en la última década yacen en tumbas sin nombre en España, sin que el Gobierno tome medidas coordinadas para garantizar su identificación

      En enero de 2020, Alhassane Bangoura fue enterrado en una tumba sin nombre en la zona musulmana del cementerio municipal de Teguise, en Lanzarote, ante la presencia de funcionarios municipales y miembros de la comunidad musulmana local. El pequeño había nacido apenas un par de semanas antes a bordo de una patera abarrotada en la que su madre, originaria de Guinea, y otras 42 personas intentaban llegar a las Islas Canarias. La embarcación llevaba dos días a la deriva en el océano Atlántico, tras averiarse el motor, y la madre de Alhassane se puso de parto en el mar. Su hijo sólo alcanzó a vivir unas pocas horas antes de morir frente a la costa de Lanzarote.

      El caso de Alhassane conmocionó a la isla y saltó a las noticias de todo el país. Sin embargo, mientras los asistentes al entierro ofrecían sus condolencias, la madre del bebé fallecido se encontraba a 200 kilómetros de distancia, en un centro de acogida de migrantes de la vecina isla de Gran Canaria, al no haber podido obtener permiso de las autoridades para permanecer en Lanzarote durante el funeral.

      “Le habían permitido ver el cuerpo de su hijo una vez más antes de ser trasladada, y yo la acompañé a la funeraria”, cuenta Mamadou Sy, representante de la comunidad musulmana local. “Fue muy emotivo cuando se tuvo que marchar. Lo único que pudimos hacer fue prometerle que su hijo no estaría solo; que, como cualquier musulmán, sería llevado a la mezquita, donde su cuerpo sería lavado por otras madres; que rezaríamos por él y que después le enviaríamos un vídeo del entierro”.

      Casi cuatro años después, el lugar donde reposan los restos de Alhassane sigue sin tener una lápida formal. La tumba se encuentra junto a los restos de más de tres docenas de personas migrantes no identificadas, cuyos nombres se desconocen por completo pero que, como Alhassane, también son víctimas del brutal régimen fronterizo de Europa.
      Las tumbas de la frontera

      A lo largo de las fronteras de la Unión Europea, miles de personas están siendo enterradas de forma precipitada en tumbas sin nombre. El equipo de investigación de Border Graves (Las Tumbas de la Frontera) ha contabilizado que, en los últimos 10 años, al menos 2.162 cadáveres de migrantes han sido encontrados en las fronteras europeas sin identificar.

      El equipo de investigación también ha confirmado la existencia de 1.015 tumbas de inmigrantes sin identificar entre 2014 y 2021 en 103 cementerios, todas ellas pertenecientes a personas que intentaban emigrar a Europa.

      El problema está “absolutamente abandonado”, afirma Dunja Mijatović, Comisaria de Derechos Humanos del Consejo de Europa, que insiste en que los países de la UE incumplen sus obligaciones en virtud de la legislación internacional sobre derechos humanos. “La tragedia de los migrantes desaparecidos ha alcanzado una magnitud espantosa. El asunto exige una actuación inmediata”.

      Las condiciones de sepultura de estos migrantes varían en todo el continente. En la última década, en la isla griega de Lesbos, un olivar se ha convertido en un cementerio informal para refugiados. Al menos 147 tumbas sin identificar se pueden encontrar en el pequeño pueblo de Kato Tritos, que según explica el periodista Nikos Manavis brotaron tras la gran oleada de refugiados de 2015. “Los otros cementerios de la isla eran inapropiados y no podían cubrir el número de muertos que había que enterrar en Lesbos”, afirma. “Pero no es un cementerio. Es sólo un campo. No se muestra ningún respeto por la gente enterrada aquí”.

      En Siče, una población al este de Croacia, se hallan las tumbas de tres refugiados afganos al borde del cementerio del pueblo, separadas de las de los residentes locales. Los tres hombres no identificados, que se ahogaron intentando cruzar el río Sava desde Bosnia a Croacia, están enterrados bajo sencillas cruces de madera en las que se lee “NN” (desconocido).

      En la frontera entre Lituania y Bielorrusia, un pequeño cementerio de la tranquila localidad de Rameikos alberga la tumba de un emigrante indio. El lugar está marcado por un trozo de madera vertical, a pocos metros de la valla fronteriza. En el cementerio de Piano Gatta, en Agrigento (Sicilia), están enterrados decenas de cadáveres sin identificar del naufragio de Lampedusa en 2013, en el que perdieron la vida 368 personas de Eritrea y Somalia al hundirse el pesquero en el que viajaban.

      En cuanto a la extensa costa española, pueden encontrarse tumbas de inmigrantes desde Alicante hasta Cádiz, y hacia el sur hasta las Canarias. Algunas tienen nombre, pero lo más frecuente es que las inscripciones sean del estilo de “inmigrante no identificado”, “marroquí desconocido” o “víctima del Estrecho [de Gibraltar]”. O, simplemente, una cruz pintada a mano.

      En el cementerio de Barbate, en Cádiz, donde los difuntos están sepultados en nichos, el jardinero Germán señala más de 30 tumbas de inmigrantes: las más antiguas datan de 2002 y las más recientes son de un naufragio de 2019. “Nunca viene nadie a visitarlos, pero los días que hay funerales aquí y se van a tirar las flores antiguas, las coloco en las tumbas de los migrantes desconocidos”, explica. “En algunas de las más antiguas hay restos de hasta cinco o seis emigrantes juntos, cada uno colocado en bolsas separadas dentro del mismo nicho para ahorrar espacio”.

      Tal preocupación era menos evidente en Arrecife, Lanzarote, donde dos tumbas no identificadas de febrero de este año se han dejado selladas con una cubierta que aún lleva el logotipo de una empresa.

      No existen datos exhaustivos sobre cuántas fosas de inmigrantes identificadas y no identificadas existen en España, y el Ministerio del Interior nunca ha dado a conocer cifras sobre el número total de cadáveres recuperados en las distintas rutas migratorias marítimas. Pero los datos del Comité Internacional de la Cruz Roja (CICR) revelan que entre 2014 y 2021 se recuperaron los cuerpos de alrededor de 530 personas fallecidas en las fronteras españolas, de las cuales 292 permanecen sin identificar.

      En los diez meses que ha durado la investigación europea Border Graves, llevada a cabo de manera conjunta entre un grupo de periodistas independientes y los medios Unbias the News, The Guardian y Süddeutsche Zeitung y publicada en exclusiva en España por elDiario.es, se ha confirmado la existencia de 109 tumbas de migrantes no identificados entre 2014 y 2021 en 18 lugares de España. Según un estudio de la Universidad de Ámsterdam, otras 434 tumbas sin identificar se remontan al periodo 2000-2013 en al menos 65 cementerios del territorio nacional.

      Estas tumbas son símbolos de una tragedia humanitaria mucho mayor. El CICR calcula que sólo el 6,89% de los restos mortales de las personas que desaparecen a lo largo de las fronteras europeas son recuperados, mientras que la ONG española Caminando Fronteras da una cifra aún más baja para la ruta atlántica de África Occidental a Canarias, estimando que sólo se recupera el 4,2% de los cuerpos de los fallecidos.
      Garantizar los “últimos derechos”

      Las tumbas anónimas y sin visitar reflejan también el hecho de que el derecho a la identificación y a un entierro digno de los fallecidos en las rutas migratorias ha sido sistemáticamente desatendido por las autoridades nacionales españolas. En 2021, el Parlamento Europeo aprobó una resolución que reconoce el derecho a la identificación de los fallecidos en las rutas migratorias, y la necesidad de una base de datos coordinada que recoja los datos de la frontera. Pero, al igual que en otros países europeos, los sucesivos gobiernos han sido incapaces de desarrollar mecanismos legales y protocolos estatales para garantizar estos “últimos derechos” de las víctimas, así como el “derecho a saber” y a llorar a sus seres queridos que corresponde a las familias.

      “La gente siempre llama a la oficina y nos pregunta cómo buscar a un familiar, pero hay que ser sincero y decir que no hay un canal oficial claro al que puedan dirigirse”, explica Juan Carlos Lorenzo, coordinador del Consejo Español para los Refugiados (CEAR) en Canarias. “Se les puede poner en contacto con la Cruz Roja, pero no hay un programa de identificación liderado por el Gobierno. Tampoco existe el tipo de recurso especializado necesario para coordinarse con las familias y centralizar la información y los datos sobre los migrantes desaparecidos”.

      Helena Maleno, directora de Caminando Fronteras, afirma: “Sólo este año estamos trabajando con más de 600 familias cuyos seres queridos han desaparecido. Estas familias, procedentes de Marruecos, Argelia, Senegal, Guinea y países tan lejanos como Sri Lanka, están muy solas y poco protegidas por las administraciones públicas. A su vez, esto significa que hay redes criminales y estafadores que buscan sacarles dinero”.

      Incluso en el caso de la identificación de una víctima, un reciente informe de la Asociación Pro Derechos Humanos de Andalucía (APDHA) expone las barreras legales y financieras a las que se enfrentan las familias para repatriar a sus seres queridos. En 2020/21, las cifras del CICR muestran que se recuperaron 284 cuerpos pero que, de los 116 identificados, sólo 53 fueron repatriados. El informe de la APDHA también señala, respecto a las tumbas fronterizas, que “muchas personas acaban enterradas de manera contraria a sus creencias”. Apenas la mitad de las 50 provincias españolas cuentan con cementerios musulmanes, y no todos están en la costa española.

      Para Maleno, estos fallos del Estado no son casualidad: “España y otros Estados europeos mantienen una política de invisibilización de las víctimas y de la propia frontera. Tienen políticas de negación del número de muertos y de ocultación de datos, pero para las familias esto significa obstáculos en cuanto al acceso a la información y a los derechos de sepultura, así como interminables trabas burocráticas”.
      “Sueño con Oussama”

      Abdallah Tayeb ha sufrido en primera persona las deficiencias del sistema español en sus intentos por confirmar si un cadáver recuperado en diciembre de 2022 es el de su primo Oussama, un joven barbero argelino que soñaba con reunirse con Tayeb en Francia.

      Tayeb está convencido de que el cuerpo sin identificar, que se cree que está en un depósito de cadáveres de Almería, es el de su primo. Está previsto que los restos sean enterrados a comienzos del próximo año en una tumba sin nombre, a menos que se consiga algún avance de última hora. “La sensación es de impotencia”, admite. “No hay nada de transparencia”.

      Tayeb nació en París, de padres argelinos, pero pasa todos los veranos en Argelia con su familia. “Como Oussama y yo teníamos más o menos la misma edad, estábamos muy unidos. Le obsesionaba la idea de venir a Europa, pues dos de sus hermanos ya vivían en Francia. Pero yo no sabía que en realidad ya había organizado su viaje en una patera a finales del año pasado”.

      Oussama formaba parte de un grupo de 23 personas (entre ellas siete niños) que desaparecieron tras zarpar de Mostaganem, Argelia, en una lancha motora el día de Navidad de 2022. Poco después de la desaparición de la patera, su hermano Sofiane viajó de Francia a Cartagena, el destino al que esperaba llegar la embarcación. Con la ayuda de la Cruz Roja, Sofiane pudo presentar una denuncia por desaparición y dar una muestra de ADN, pero no pudo reunir ninguna información concreta sobre la suerte de su hermano.

      Sin embargo, un segundo viaje a España en febrero condujo a un gran avance. Tras recorrer juntos la costa mediterránea, Tayeb y su primo Sofiane consiguieron hablar con una patóloga forense que trabaja en la morgue de Almería, quien pareció reconocer una foto de Oussama. “No paraba de decir ’esta cara me suena’ y también mencionó un collar, algo que llevaba cuando se fue”. Según la forense, había una posible coincidencia con un cuerpo sin identificar recuperado por los guardacostas el 27 de diciembre de 2022.
      El laberinto burocrático

      Con la sensación de que por fin estaban cerca de obtener alguna respuesta, en la comisaría de Almería les informaron de que, para poder ver el cadáver –o incluso las pertenencias– y proceder a su identificación visual, necesitarían el permiso de la comisaría donde se había registrado inicialmente el cadáver. “Fue entonces cuando empezó la verdadera pesadilla”, recuerda Tayeb. Les entregaron una lista de cinco comisarías de toda la región en las que se podría haber registrado el cadáver, y se pasaron los dos días siguientes conduciendo de comisaría en comisaría a lo largo de la costa murciana.

      “En la primera comisaría que visitamos ni siquiera nos dejaron entrar cuando les dijimos que estábamos buscando a un inmigrante desaparecido, y después siempre fue la misma consigna: éste no es el lugar adecuado; no tenemos ningún cadáver; tenéis que ir a este otro lugar…”, continúa. Cuando ambos regresaron a la primera comisaría de Huércal de Almería, después de que les dijeran repetidamente que era el lugar adecuado para preguntar, los agentes, impacientes, se negaron a atenderlos, alegando leyes de protección de la intimidad, e incluso les dijeron que advirtieran a otras familias que buscaban a migrantes desaparecidos que no siguieran viniendo a preguntar.

      “Al final”, explica Tayeb, “nos dimos cuenta de que nunca nos darían ninguna información. Fue muy desgarrador, sobre todo volver a Francia. Fue como si le dejáramos [allí] en la nevera”.
      Incertidumbre

      A medida que pasaban los meses, la frustración y la ansiedad aumentaban para la familia. “En mayo nos dijeron que la muestra de ADN que habíamos dado cinco meses antes acababa de llegar a Madrid y aún no había sido procesada ni enviada a la base de datos”. No se les ha facilitado más información, y las autoridades españolas tienen la política de ponerse en contacto con las familias sólo cuando hay una coincidencia positiva, pero no si la prueba da negativo.

      Tayeb se plantea una última visita a España para intentar recuperar a su primo Oussama, en parte para estar seguro de que ha hecho todo lo posible por encontrarlo, pero le preocupa que el viaje pueda reabrir su trauma de “pérdida ambigua”. “El esfuerzo de ir no es doloroso, lo doloroso es volver sin nada”, dice. “Esta falta de información es lo peor”.

      La Dra. Pauline Boss, catedrática emérita de Psicología de la Universidad de Minnesota (EE.UU.), explica el concepto de pérdida ambigua: “Se parece a un duelo complejo, con pensamientos intrusivos”, dice. “No tienes otra cosa en la cabeza más que el hecho de que tu ser querido ha desaparecido. No puedes afrontar el duelo, porque eso significaría que la persona está muerta, y no lo sabes con certeza”.

      Tayeb lo explica con sus propias palabras: “Todas las personas que iban a bordo eran del mismo barrio de Mostaganem. He podido hablar con muchas de sus familias y están destrozadas. Hay mucho dolor, pero tampoco hay respuestas. Sólo hay rumores, y algunas de las madres creen que sus hijos están en cárceles de Marruecos y España. Todos tenemos sueños [sobre los desaparecidos]. Al final, confías en lo que ves en tus sueños, como si la realidad cósmica te dijera que va a venir. Sueño con Oussama”.
      Un sistema defectuoso

      De todas las familias de los desaparecidos en la patera de Oussama, sólo Tayeb y otras tres familias han podido presentar denuncias de desaparición ante las autoridades españolas, y únicamente en dos casos se han podido entregar muestras de ADN. Según un informe de 2021 de la Organización Internacional para las Migraciones (OIM), una de las mayores complicaciones a las que se enfrentan las familias en sus búsquedas es que, para registrar a alguien como desaparecido en España, hay que presentar una denuncia ante la policía del propio país, lo que para muchas familias es “una hazaña prácticamente imposible”, ya que no existen visados para viajar con este fin.

      El informe de la OIM también señala que, aunque muchas familias presentan denuncias de personas desaparecidas en sus países de origen, son “conscientes del carácter casi simbólico de sus esfuerzos” y de que “nunca darán lugar a que se inicie ningún tipo de investigación en España.”

      Junto con la OIM, algunas ONG nacionales, como la APDHA y más de un centenar de organizaciones comunitarias, han denunciado la incapacidad de España para adaptar los procedimientos vigentes en materia de personas desaparecidas a los retos transnacionales que plantean los casos de migrantes desaparecidos. Estas organizaciones han defendido en repetidas ocasiones que el marco jurídico del país en materia de personas desaparecidas debe adaptarse para garantizar que las familias puedan presentar denuncias desde el extranjero por casos de personas desaparecidas.

      También han presionado para que se elaboren protocolos específicos para la policía al tratar casos de migrantes desaparecidos, así como para que se cree una base de datos de migrantes desaparecidos que permita centralizar la información y haga posible el intercambio con autoridades de otros países. Esta incluiría todos los datos disponibles post mortem (desde tatuajes hasta ADN, pasando por inspecciones de cadáveres y autopsias) como de información médica forense ante mortem, es decir, la que procede de los familiares en relación con la persona desaparecida.

      “La realidad es que la situación en toda Europa es sistemáticamente deficiente”, explica Julia Black, analista del Proyecto Migrantes Desaparecidos de la OIM. “A pesar de que nuestras investigaciones muestran estas necesidades acuciantes de las familias, ni España ni ningún otro país europeo ha cambiado [en los últimos años] de forma significativa sus políticas, ni tampoco han mejorado las prácticas para ayudar a este grupo desatendido. El apoyo a las familias sólo está disponible de forma muy puntual, sobre todo en respuesta a sucesos con víctimas masivas que están en el punto de mira de la opinión pública, lo que deja a muchos miles de personas sin un apoyo adecuado”.

      Actores no estatales como la Cruz Roja y Caminando Fronteras, así como una red de activistas independientes, intentan llenar este vacío. “Es un trabajo terrible que no deberíamos estar haciendo, porque los Estados deberían responder a las familias y garantizar los derechos de las víctimas más allá de las fronteras”, explica Maleno. En el caso de la patera de Mostaganem, Caminando Fronteras tiene previsto viajar a Argelia el año que viene para tomar muestras de ADN de los familiares y traerlas a España. Pero Maleno también reconoce que su ONG a menudo tiene que “ejercer mucha presión” para que las autoridades acepten estas muestras.

      Es algo que también confirma Jon Iñarritu, diputado de EH Bildu: “Como miembro de la Comisión de Interior del Congreso de los Diputados, he tenido que intervenir en varias ocasiones para ayudar a las familias que querían registrar muestras de ADN, hablando con el Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores o con el Ministerio del Interior para que aceptaran las muestras. Pero no debería ser necesaria la intervención de un diputado para conseguirlo. Es necesario normalizar todo el proceso con protocolos claros y automáticos [para la presentación de las muestras]. Ahora mismo, no hay una forma clara de hacerlo”.

      Incluso cuando las recomendaciones de la OIM han sido objeto de debate parlamentario en España, no han tendido a traducirse en medidas gubernamentales. En 2021, por ejemplo, el Congreso de los Diputados aprobó una Proposición no de Ley en la que se instaba al Gobierno a crear una oficina estatal específica para las familias de migrantes desaparecidos. “Está claro que necesitamos aliviar el calvario administrativo y burocrático para las familias ofreciéndoles un único punto de contacto [con las autoridades estatales]”, explica Iñárritu, impulsor de la moción.

      Sin embargo, aunque los partidos en el gobierno votaron a favor de la resolución, no se ha tomado ninguna medida al respecto en los 18 meses transcurridos desde la aprobación de la resolución. “Desde mi punto de vista, el Gobierno no tiene ninguna intención de aplicar la propuesta”, argumenta Iñárritu. “Sólo ofrecían un apoyo simbólico”.

      Cuando se expusieron las cuestiones anteriores al Ministerio del Interior, la respuesta fue la siguiente: “El tratamiento de los cadáveres sin identificar que llegan a las costas de España es idéntico al hallazgo de cualquier otro cadáver. En España, para la identificación de cadáveres, las Fuerzas y Cuerpos de Seguridad del Estado aplican la Guía de INTERPOL para la Identificación de Víctimas de Catástrofes. Esta Guía, aunque está especialmente indicada para los sucesos con víctimas múltiples, también es aplicada como referencia para la identificación de un cadáver aislado”.
      Derechos de sepultura

      El director de migraciones de APDHA, Carlos Arce, escribe que, en un marco europeo que contempla la migración irregular predominantemente a través del prisma de la criminalidad grave y la seguridad fronteriza, “ni siquiera la muerte o desaparición de las personas migrantes pone freno a la concatenación de ataques a su dignidad”. Por su parte, Iñárritu también apunta al régimen fronterizo más amplio de la UE: “Muchas cuestiones que no encajan en este marco político dominante, como el derecho de identificación, simplemente se dejan sin gestionar en el día a día. Sencillamente, no son una prioridad”.

      Esto también queda claro en lo que respecta a la inacción del gobierno español a la hora de garantizar un entierro digno a las personas cuyos cuerpos son recuperados. Como señala un informe de 2023 de APDHA, “aunque la repatriación es la opción más deseada por las familias [...] el coste es muy elevado (miles de euros) y muy pocas de sus embajadas ayudan [a sufragarlo]”. La ONG recomienda a España que establezca acuerdos de repatriación con los países de procedencia de los inmigrantes para crear “salvoconductos mortuorios” que garanticen su retorno a un coste reducido.

      A esto se suma que el gobierno central tampoco ha establecido mecanismos para garantizar el derecho de los inmigrantes no identificados a un entierro digno dentro del territorio español, sino que sostiene que los ayuntamientos son responsables de todos los entierros de carácter benéfico. Esto ha supuesto que municipios muy concretos, en los que están estacionadas las embarcaciones de salvamento marítimo, sean legalmente responsables de la mayor parte de los entierros, y la mayoría de estos municipios carecen de cementerios locales capaces de acoger entierros musulmanes tradicionales.

      La posibilidad de que este asunto se convierta en un caldo de cultivo para el rechazo a la inmigración quedó patente el pasado mes de septiembre, cuando la alcaldesa de Mogán (Gran Canaria), Onalia Bueno, insistió en que su municipio dejaría de sufragar estos entierros, ya que no quería “detraer los costes de los impuestos de mis vecinos”. Juan Carlos Lorenzo, de CEAR, condena ese “lenguaje divisivo, que enmarca la cuestión en términos de malgastar el dinero de mis ’vecinos’ en alguien que no es un vecino”, y señala en cambio la actuación de los municipios de El Hierro como contraejemplo positivo.

      En esta isla poco poblada, en los últimos dos meses han sido enterrados siete inmigrantes no identificados, junto con los restos de Mamadou Marea, de 30 años. “Los habitantes de la isla se unieron a nosotros para acompañar los restos de cada una de estas personas hasta su lugar de descanso”, explica Amado Carballo, concejal de El Hierro. “Lo que nos entristeció a todos fue no poder poner un nombre en la lápida y simplemente tener que dejar a las personas identificadas con un código policial”.

      Carballo señala que “más de 10.000 personas han llegado a El Hierro desde septiembre, lo mismo que la población de la isla. Son viajes muy largos, de entre seis y nueve días en el mar, y ahora mismo la gente llega en un pésimo estado de salud. A los que han muerto en los últimos meses hemos intentado ofrecerles un entierro digno dentro de los medios de que disponemos. Hemos contado con la presencia de un imán, que ha rezado oraciones del Islam antes de depositar los restos”.

      En la actualidad, la responsabilidad de conmemorar a las víctimas no identificadas recae en los municipios e incluso en los responsables de los cementerios. Al igual que Germán en el cementerio de Barbate, que intenta dignificar las tumbas sin nombre colocando flores sobre ellas, el cementerio de Motril ha adornado las tumbas con poemas. En Teguise, el Ayuntamiento ha puesto en marcha una iniciativa que anima a los vecinos a dejar flores en las tumbas de los inmigrantes cuando vienen a visitar los restos de sus familiares.

      En otro gesto conmemorativo, una colección de unas 50 barcas de pesca desechadas se ha convertido en un rasgo distintivo del puerto de Barbate. Estas pequeñas embarcaciones de madera con escritura árabe en el casco eran utilizadas por los emigrantes que intentaban cruzar el Estrecho de Gibraltar. En lugar de ser desguazadas, APDHA pudo convertir el astillero en un lugar conmemorativo y colocar placas en las embarcaciones en las que se indicaba cuántas personas viajaban en ellas y dónde y cuándo fueron encontradas.

      En el caso del pequeño Alhassane Bangoura, los vecinos acuden habitualmente a dejar flores frescas y otras muestras de afecto, entre ellas un pequeño cuenco de granito con su nombre de pila inscrito. Pero muchas víctimas son enterradas sin ningún intento de identificación y, tal y como exigen innumerables ONG, políticos y activistas, no debería dejarse en manos de la buena voluntad de residentes, trabajadores de cementerios o concejales el garantizar los últimos derechos de las víctimas de la Fortaleza Europa.

      https://www.eldiario.es/desalambre/enterrar-mil-personas-nombre-trabas-ue-espana-identificar-cuerpos-migrantes

    • « Αγνώστων στοιχείων » : Πάνω από 1.000 αταυτοποίητοι τάφοι στα ευρωπαϊκά σύνορα

      Τάφοι με μόνη σήμανση ένα ξύλο, μνήματα που καλύπτονται από αγριόχορτα : μια διασυνοριακή έρευνα οκτώ δημοσιογράφων σε συνεργασία με Solomon, Guardian και Süddeutsche Zeitung καταγράφει την αδιαφορία γύρω από την αξιοπρεπή ταφή των προσφύγων που χάνουν τη ζωή τους στα ευρωπαϊκά σύνορα.

      Το τηλέφωνο χτύπησε ένα πρωινό του Οκτωβρίου 2022 στη δουλειά, στη Φινλανδία όπου ο 35χρονος Μοχάμεντ Σαμίμ ζει τα τελευταία δέκα περίπου χρόνια.

      Ο ανιψιός του δεν είχε καλά νέα : ο αδερφός του Σαμίμ, Ταρίν Μοχαμάντ, μαζί με τον γιο και τις δύο κόρες του, βρισκόταν σε ένα σκάφος που βυθίστηκε κοντά σε ένα ελληνικό νησί, έχοντας αποπλεύσει από τα τουρκικά παράλια για την Ιταλία.

      Όταν ο Σαμίμ έφτασε την επομένη στα Κύθηρα, έμαθε πως —παρότι αδύναμος αφού δεν είχε φάει επί τρεις μέρες— ο αδερφός του είχε καταφέρει να σώσει την οικογένειά του πριν ένα κύμα τον πάρει μακριά. Πήγε αμέσως στο σημείο του ναυαγίου. Μέσα στο νερό είδε σώματα να επιπλέουν — δεν μπορούσε να δει το πρόσωπο του αδερφού του, αλλά αναγνώρισε την πλάτη του.

      Το Λιμενικό είπε πως έπρεπε να περάσει η κακοκαιρία για να μπορέσουν να βγάλουν τους νεκρούς από τη θάλασσα. Πέρασε η πρώτη μέρα, πέρασε και δεύτερη, ώσπου την τρίτη ημέρα κατέστη τελικά δυνατό. Το Λιμενικό επιβεβαίωσε στο Solomon πως άνεμοι έντασης 8 μποφόρ και η μορφολογία της περιοχής καθιστούσαν την ανάσυρση των σορών αδύνατη. Ο Σαμίμ δεν θα ξεχάσει ποτέ την εικόνα του αδερφού του στη θάλασσα.

      Στην Καλαμάτα, χρειάστηκε να περάσουν τέσσερις ημέρες μετακύλισης της ευθύνης μεταξύ νοσοκομείου και Λιμενικού, και η βοήθεια μιας ντόπιας δικηγόρου που « ήρθε και τους έβαλε τις φωνές », προκειμένου να του επιτραπεί να ακολουθήσει τη διαδικασία ταυτοποίησης του αδερφού του.

      Τον προειδοποίησαν πως θα ήταν μια ψυχοφθόρα διαδικασία, και πως θα έπρεπε να φορέσει τριπλή μάσκα λόγω της μυρωδιάς. Ο Σαμίμ λέει πως, λόγω έλλειψης χώρου στα ψυγεία του νεκροτομείου, ορισμένα από τα θύματα του ναυαγίου βρίσκονταν στον θάλαμο εκτός ψυγείου.

      « Το άγχος και η μυρωδιά. Τα γόνατά μας έτρεμαν », θυμάται ο Σαμίμ όταν τον συναντάμε στα Κύθηρα ένα χρόνο μετά.

      Ξεκίνησαν να του δείχνουν σώματα σε αποσύνθεση. Πρώτα αυτά εκτός ψυγείου. Δεν τον αναγνώρισε ανάμεσά τους. Βγήκαν έξω και άλλαξαν τις μάσκες που φορούσαν, επέστρεψαν, άνοιξαν με τη σειρά τα ψυγεία φτάνοντας στο τελευταίο.

      « Βρισκόταν εκεί, ήρεμος. Ο άνθρωπος που αγαπάς. Ήμασταν κάπως χαρούμενοι που, μετά από μέρες, μπορούσαμε να τον δούμε », είπε ο Σαμίμ.
      Νεκροί πρόσφυγες στα αζήτητα

      Ο αριθμός των προσφύγων που πεθαίνουν στα σύνορα της Ευρώπης ολοένα και μεγαλώνει. Πέρα από τη δυσκολία καταγραφής των θανάτων, υπάρχει και η πρόκληση της ταυτοποίησης των σορών, μια διαδικασία ψυχοφθόρα για τους συγγενείς. Σε κάποιες περιπτώσεις, ωστόσο, υπάρχουν σοροί που μένουν αταυτοποίητες, εκατοντάδες άνδρες, γυναίκες και παιδιά που θάβονται σε τάφους αγνώστων στοιχείων.

      Τον Ιούλιο του 2023, το Ευρωπαϊκό Κοινοβούλιο υιοθέτησε ψήφισμα που αναγνωρίζει το δικαίωμα στην ταυτοποίηση των ανθρώπων που χάνουν τη ζωή τους στην προσπάθεια να φτάσουν στην Ευρώπη, έως σήμερα ωστόσο δεν υπάρχει κεντρικό σύστημα καταγραφής σε πανευρωπαϊκό επίπεδο. Ούτε ενιαία διαδικασία για τη διαχείριση των σορών που καταλήγουν σε νεκροτομεία, γραφεία κηδειών — ακόμη και κοντέινερ ψύξης.

      Το πρόβλημα είναι « εντελώς παραμελημένο », είπε στο Solomon η Ευρωπαία Επίτροπος Ανθρωπίνων Δικαιωμάτων, Dunja Mijatović, η οποία αναφέρει ότι οι χώρες της ΕΕ δεν εκπληρώνουν τις υποχρεώσεις τους βάσει του διεθνούς δικαίου των ανθρωπίνων δικαιωμάτων. « Η τραγωδία των αγνοούμενων μεταναστών έχει λάβει τρομακτικές διαστάσεις. Το ζήτημα απαιτεί άμεση δράση », πρόσθεσε.

      Η πλατφόρμα Missing Migrants του Διεθνούς Οργανισμού Μετανάστευσης (ΔΟΜ), που αναγνωρίζει πως τα στοιχεία της δεν αποτελούν ολοκληρωμένη καταγραφή, κάνει λόγο για πάνω από 1.090 αγνοούμενους πρόσφυγες και μετανάστες στην Ευρώπη από το 2014.

      Στο πλαίσιο της έρευνας Border Graves, οκτώ Ευρωπαίοι δημοσιογράφοι, από κοινού με την βρετανική εφημερίδα Guardian, την γερμανική εφημερίδα Süddeutsche Zeitung, και το Solomon για την Ελλάδα, ερεύνησαν επί επτά μήνες τι συμβαίνει με τις χιλιάδες αταυτοποίητες σορούς όσων χάνουν τη ζωή τους στα ευρωπαϊκά σύνορα, και καταγράφουν για πρώτη φορά έναν σχεδόν διπλάσιο αριθμό : σύμφωνα με τα στοιχεία που συγκεντρώθηκαν, περισσότεροι από 2.162 άνθρωποι πέθαναν την περίοδο 2014-2023.

      Μελετήσαμε έγγραφα και πήραμε συνεντεύξεις από κρατικούς ιατροδικαστές, εισαγγελείς και εργαζομένους σε γραφεία τελετών· από κατοίκους και συγγενείς θανόντων και αγνοουμένων· και αποκτήσαμε αποκλειστική πρόσβαση σε αδημοσίευτα στοιχεία της Διεθνούς Επιτροπής του Ερυθρού Σταυρού.

      Σε 65 νεκροταφεία κατά μήκος των ευρωπαϊκών συνόρων –Ελλάδα, Ισπανία, Ιταλία, Μάλτα, Πολωνία, Λιθουανία, Γαλλία και Κροατία– καταγράψαμε περισσότερους από 1.000 τάφους αγνώστων στοιχείων κατά την τελευταία δεκαετία.

      Η έρευνα καταγράφει τον τρόπο με τον οποίο η κρατική αδιαφορία γύρω από την αξιοπρεπή ταφή των ανθρώπων που χάνουν τη ζωή τους στα σύνορα διαπερνά τις ευρωπαϊκές χώρες. Στην Ιταλία, συναντήσαμε ξύλινους σταυρούς. Στην Κροατία και τη Βοσνία, συναντήσαμε δεκάδες τάφους με την ένδειξη « ΝΝ » (αγνώστων στοιχείων), στη Γαλλία απλώς με ένα « Χ ».

      Στα ισπανικά Γκραν Κανάρια, εντοπίσαμε πλάκες που δεν αναφέρουν την ταυτότητα των θανόντων, αλλά σε ποιο ναυάγιο πέθαναν : « Βάρκα μεταναστών νούμερο 4. 25/09/2022 ».

      Στην Ελλάδα, καταγράψαμε περισσότερους από 540 αταυτοποίητους τάφους προσφύγων, το 54% όσων συνολικά κατέγραψε η ευρωπαϊκή έρευνα. Ταξιδέψαμε στα νησιά του Αιγαίου και τον Έβρο, και εντοπίσαμε τάφους σε χωράφια που ενίοτε καλύπτονται από αγριόχορτα, και μαρμάρινες πλάκες με ημερομηνίες θανάτου που έχουν σβηστεί, ενώ σε άλλες περιπτώσεις ένα κομμάτι ξύλο μαζί με έναν αριθμό αποτελεί τη μόνη σήμανσή τους.

      Τα στοιχεία της έρευνάς μας, σε συνδυασμό με τα στοιχεία της Διεθνούς Επιτροπής του Ερυθρού Σταυρού, δεν αποτελούν εξαντλητική καταγραφή του ζητήματος. Ωστόσο, αποτυπώνουν για πρώτη φορά τα κενά και τις δυσκολίες ενός συστήματος, που οδηγεί χιλιάδες οικογένειες να μην γνωρίζουν πού είναι θαμμένοι οι συγγενείς τους.

      Λέσβος : 167 αταυτοποίητοι τάφοι προσφύγων

      Ένας μακρύς χωματόδρομος, που τριγυρίζεται από ελαιόδεντρα, οδηγεί στην πύλη του νεκροταφείου του Κάτω Τρίτου, που συνήθως παραμένει κλειδωμένη με λουκέτο.

      Το « νεκροταφείο των προσφύγων », όπως το αποκαλούν στο νησί, βρίσκεται περίπου 15χλμ δυτικά της Μυτιλήνης. Αποτελεί τον μοναδικό χώρο ταφής αποκλειστικά για πρόσφυγες και μετανάστες στην Ελλάδα.

      Κατά τη διάρκεια μίας από τις επισκέψεις μας, λάμβανε χώρα η κηδεία τεσσάρων παιδιών. Έχασαν τη ζωή τους στις 28 Αυγούστου 2023, όταν η βάρκα στην οποία επέβαιναν μαζί με 18 ακόμη ανθρώπους βυθίστηκε νοτιοανατολικά της Λέσβου.

      Η πενθούσα μητέρα και αρκετές γυναίκες, μεταξύ των οποίων μέλη της οικογένειας, κάθονταν κάτω από ένα δέντρο, ενώ οι άνδρες προσεύχονταν κοντά στο υπόστεγο που χρησιμοποιείται για τη διαδικασία της ταφής σύμφωνα με την ισλαμική παράδοση.

      Στον Κάτω Τρίτο και τον Άγιο Παντελεήμονα, το νεκροταφείο της Μυτιλήνης όπου θάβονταν οι πρόσφυγες έως τότε, μετρήσαμε συνολικά 167 τάφους αγνώστων στοιχείων μεταξύ 2014-2023.

      Ο τοπικός δημοσιογράφος, και πρώην μέλος του Περιφερειακού Συμβουλίου Βορείου Αιγαίου Νίκος Μανάβης, εξηγεί πως το νεκροταφείο δημιουργήθηκε το 2015 σε έναν ελαιώνα που ανήκει στο δήμο Μυτιλήνης λόγω ανάγκης : ένα πολύνεκρο ναυάγιο στα βόρεια του νησιού, στις 28 Οκτωβρίου του έτους, είχε ως αποτέλεσμα τουλάχιστον 60 νεκρούς, για τους οποίους τα νεκροταφεία του νησιού δεν επαρκούσαν.

      Πολλά θύματα ναυαγίων παραμένουν θαμμένα σε τάφους αγνώστων στοιχείων. Στις ταφόπλακες αναγράφεται η εκτιμώμενη ηλικία των θανόντων και η ημερομηνία ταφής, ενίοτε μόνο ένας αριθμός. Άλλες φορές, ένα κομμάτι ξύλο και περιμετρικά τοποθετημένες πέτρες σηματοδοτούν τον τάφο.

      « Αυτό που βλέπουμε είναι ένα χωράφι, όχι ένα νεκροταφείο. Δεν δείχνει σεβασμό στους ανθρώπους που τάφηκαν εδώ », λέει ο Μανάβης.

      Αυτή η έλλειψη σεβασμού στο νεκροταφείο του Κάτω Τρίτου κινητοποίησε την οργάνωση Earth Medicine. Όπως εξηγεί ο Δημήτρης Πατούνης, μέλος της ΜΚΟ, τον Ιανουάριο του 2022 έκαναν πρόταση στο δήμο Μυτιλήνης για την αποκατάσταση του νεκροταφείου. Το σχέδιό τους είναι να δημιουργήσουν ένα χώρο ανάπαυσης με σεβασμό και αξιοπρέπεια, όπου οι πρόσφυγες και οι αιτούντες άσυλο θα μπορούν να ικανοποιήσουν την πιο ιερή ανθρώπινη ανάγκη, το πένθος για τους αγαπημένους τους.

      Παρόλο που το δημοτικό συμβούλιο ενέκρινε την πρόταση την άνοιξη του 2023, οι δημοτικές εκλογές του Οκτωβρίου καθυστέρησαν το έργο. Ο Πατούνης δηλώνει θετικός ότι σύντομα θα γίνει καταγραφή των τάφων και περίφραξη της περιοχής.

      Ο Χρήστος Μαυραχείλης, νεκροθάφτης στο νεκροταφείο του Αγίου Παντελεήμονα, θυμάται ότι το 2015 οι μουσουλμάνοι πρόσφυγες θάβονταν σε συγκεκριμένη περιοχή του νεκροταφείου.

      « Αν κάποιος ήταν αγνώστου ταυτότητας έγραφα στον τάφο του “Άγνωστος” », λέει. Εάν δεν υπήρχαν συγγενείς, που θα μπορούσαν να καλύψουν το κόστος, ο Μαυραχείλης έκοβε ο ίδιος ένα μάρμαρο και έγραφε όσα στοιχεία μπορούσε από το πιστοποιητικό θανάτου. « Άνθρωποι ήταν κι αυτοί », λέει, « έκανα ό,τι μπορούσα ».

      Από την πλευρά του, ο Θωμάς Βαναβάκης, πρώην ιδιοκτήτης γραφείου τελετών που πρόσφερε υπηρεσίες στη Λέσβο έως το 2020, λέει επίσης πως συχνά χρειάστηκε να καλύψουν ταφές δίχως να λάβουν αμοιβή. « Ξέρετε πόσες φορές μπήκαμε στη θάλασσα και πληρώσαμε εργάτες από την τσέπη μας για να τραβήξουμε τα πτώματα και δεν παίρναμε φράγκο ; », λέει.

      « Το να βλέπεις τόσα μωρά, να τα μαζεύεις και να τα πετάς σε ένα κουτί… Πώς μπορείς να πας σπίτι και να κοιμηθείς μετά από αυτό ; », λέει ο Βαναβάκης.

      Η Έφη Λατσούδη, που ζει στη Λέσβο και εργάζεται στην οργάνωση Refugee Support Aegean (RSA), λέει πως το 2015 υπήρχαν ταφές που δεν μπορούσε να καλύψει ο δήμος Μυτιλήνης, και ορισμένες φορές τις « πληρώναν οι άνθρωποι που συμμετείχαν στην τελετή. Προσπαθούσαμε να δώσουμε μια αξιοπρέπεια στη διαδικασία. Αλλά δεν ήταν αρκετό », λέει.

      Η Λατσούδη θυμάται κάτι που της είχε αναφέρει μια προσφύγισσα το 2015 : « Το χειρότερο που μπορεί να μας συμβεί είναι να πεθάνουμε κάπου μακριά και να μην είναι κανείς στην κηδεία μας ».

      Ο δήμος Μυτιλήνης δεν απάντησε στα ερωτήματά μας σχετικά με την αξιοπρεπή ταφή των προσφύγων στα νεκροταφεία ευθύνης του.
      Χίος και Σάμος : τάφοι καλύπτονται από αγριόχορτα

      Σύμφωνα με την ελληνική νομοθεσία, η τοπική αυτοδιοίκηση (και σε περίπτωση αδυναμίας της η περιφέρεια) καλύπτει το κόστος για την ταφή τόσο των αταυτοποίητων προσφύγων που πεθαίνουν στα σύνορα, όσο και εκείνων που βρίσκονται σε οικονομική αδυναμία.

      Από πλευράς της, η δημοτική Αρχή Χίου δήλωσε πως προβλέπεται χρηματοδότηση για τις σχετικές δαπάνες, καθώς και ότι « στο πλαίσιο των αρμοδιοτήτων της για τα νεκροταφεία, συντηρεί και φροντίζει όλους τους χώρους, χωρίς διακρίσεις και με τον απαιτούμενο σεβασμό, για όλους τους νεκρούς ».

      Αλλά κατά την επίσκεψή μας τον Αύγουστο στο νεκροταφείο του Μερσινιδίου, λίγα χιλιόμετρα βόρεια της πόλης της Χίου, όπου πρόσφυγες βρίσκονται θαμμένοι πλάι στα μνήματα των ντόπιων, δεν ήταν δύσκολο να εντοπίσει κανείς τον διαχωρισμό : οι πέντε τάφοι αταυτοποίητων προσφύγων σηματοδοτούνταν απλώς από ένα μάρμαρο, το οποίο έτεινε να υπερκαλύψει η βλάστηση.

      Η Νατάσα Στραχίνη, δικηγόρος του RSA που ζει στη Χίο, έχει λάβει μέρος σε αρκετές κηδείες προσφύγων τόσο στη Χίο όσο και στη Λέσβο. Για εκείνη, είναι πολύ μεγάλη η σημασία της τοπικής κοινότητας και η παρουσία σε μια τόσο δύσκολη ανθρώπινη στιγμή.

      Σχετικά με τις ταφές, εξηγεί πως « μόνο ένα καλό σύστημα καταγραφής θα μπορούσε να βοηθήσει τους συγγενείς να εντοπίσουν τον τάφο ενός ανθρώπου που έχασαν, καθώς συνήθως στα νεκροταφεία μετά από 3-5 χρόνια γίνονται εκταφές ». Αναφέρει πως ενίοτε ένας τάφος παραμένει αγνώστων στοιχείων παρότι η σορός έχει ταυτοποιηθεί, είτε γιατί καθυστέρησε η διαδικασία ταυτοποίησης, είτε γιατί οι συγγενείς δεν είχαν την οικονομική δυνατότητα να αλλάξουν το μνήμα.

      Στο Ηραίο Σάμου, δίπλα στο δημοτικό νεκροταφείο, σε ένα οικόπεδο που ανήκει στη Μητρόπολη και χρησιμοποιείται ως χώρος ταφής προσφύγων, καταγράψαμε δεκάδες μνήματα που χρονολογούνται μεταξύ 2014-2023. Οι πλάκες –ορισμένες σπασμένες– που έχουν τοποθετηθεί στο έδαφος, « κρυμμένες » από κλαδιά, πευκοβελόνες και κουκουνάρια, αναγράφουν απλώς έναν αριθμό και τη χρονολογία της ταφής.

      Ο δικηγόρος Δημήτρης Χούλης, που ζει στη Σάμο και χειρίζεται υποθέσεις γύρω από το προσφυγικό, σχολίασε σχετικά : « Είναι ντροπιαστική εικόνα να βλέπεις τέτοιους τάφους. Είναι αδικαιολόγητο για μια σύγχρονη κοινωνία όπως η Ελλάδα ».

      Αναζητώντας στοιχεία

      Η Διεθνής Επιτροπή του Ερυθρού Σταυρού είναι από τις λίγες διεθνείς οργανώσεις που εργάζονται για την ταυτοποίηση των νεκρών πρσοφύγων. Μεταξύ άλλων, και στην Ελλάδα έχουν πραγματοποιήσει αρκετές σχετικές εκπαιδεύσεις σε στελέχη του Λιμενικού και της Ελληνικής Αστυνομίας.

      « Είναι υποχρέωσή μας να παρέχουμε στους νεκρούς μια αξιοπρεπή ταφή. Παράλληλα, οφείλουμε να δίνουμε απαντήσεις στις οικογένειες μέσω της ταυτοποίησης των νεκρών. Αν υπολογίσουμε τους συγγενείς των αγνοουμένων, αυτή η διαδικασία επηρεάζει εκατοντάδες χιλιάδες ανθρώπους. Δεν γνωρίζουν πού βρίσκονται οι αγαπημένοι τους. Τους φέρθηκαν καλά ; Τους σεβάστηκαν όταν τους έθαψαν ; », αναφέρει η Laurel Clegg, συντονίστρια ιατροδικαστής για τη μετανάστευση στην Ευρώπη.

      Εξηγεί πως η καταγραφή των νεκρών αποτελεί διαδικασία που « απαιτεί την καλή συνεργασία μεταξύ πολλών μερών : ένα νομικό πλαίσιο που να προστατεύει τους αταυτοποίητους νεκρούς, συστηματικές νεκροψίες (consistent post-mortems), νεκροτομεία, ληξιαρχεία, αξιοπρεπή μεταφορά, νεκροταφεία ».

      Ωστόσο, τα ιατρικά και νομικά συστήματα των χωρών αποδεικνύονται ανεπαρκή για να αντιμετωπίσουν τη διάσταση του προβλήματος, προσθέτει.

      Από το 2013, στο πλαίσιο του προγράμματος για την αποκατάσταση οικογενειακών δεσμών, ο Ερυθρός Σταυρός έχει καταγράψει στην Ευρώπη 16.500 αιτήματα από ανθρώπους που αναζητούν αγνοούμενους συγγενείς τους. Σύμφωνα με τον διεθνή οργανισμό έχουν επιτευχθεί μόλις 285 επιτυχείς αντιστοιχίσεις (1,7%).

      Τις αντιστοιχίσεις αυτές αναλαμβάνουν οι κατά τόπους ιατροδικαστές.

      « Συλλέγουμε πάντα δείγματα DNA από τις σορούς αγνώστων στοιχείων. Είναι συνήθης πρακτική και μπορεί να είναι το μόνο εφικτό μέσο ταυτοποίησης », αναφέρει ο Παναγιώτης Κοτρέτσος, ιατροδικαστής στη Ρόδο. Τα δείγματα αποστέλλονται στο εργαστήριο DNA της Διεύθυνσης Εγκληματολογικών Ερευνών της Ελληνικής Αστυνομίας, σύμφωνα με πρωτόκολλο της INTERPOL.

      Σύμφωνα με τον Ερυθρό Σταυρό, οι δυσκολίες συνήθως προκύπτουν όταν οι οικογένειες βρίσκονται εκτός ΕΕ, και οφείλονται σε διάφορους παράγοντες, όπως τυχόν διαφορές στο νομικό πλαίσιο ή στα ιατρικά συστήματα των χωρών. Για παράδειγμα, ορισμένες χώρες της ΕΕ δεν μπορούν να « ανοίξουν » υπόθεση και να πάρουν δείγματα DNA από οικογένειες, χωρίς εντολή από τις Aρχές της χώρας στην οποία έχει ανασυρθεί η σορός του συγγενή που αναζητάται.

      Το πιο δύσκολο μέρος στη διαδικασία ταυτοποίησης μέσω DNA είναι ότι χρειάζεται να υπάρχει κι ένα δεύτερο δείγμα που θα συγκριθεί με εκείνο που συνέλεξαν οι ιατροδικαστές, το οποίο πρέπει να σταλεί από τις οικογένειες των αγνοουμένων. « Για έναν πρόσφυγα που ξεκίνησε το ταξίδι του από μια χώρα της κεντρικής Αφρικής, ταξίδεψε για μήνες, και πέθανε στην Ελλάδα, θα υπάρχει το γενετικό υλικό στο νεκροτομείο. Αλλά θα παραμείνει αταίριαστο μέχρι κάποιος συγγενής πρώτου βαθμού να στείλει δείγμα DNA », λέει ο Κοτρέτσος.

      Εξηγεί πως αυτό δεν είναι πάντα εφικτό. « Έχουμε δεχτεί τηλεφωνήματα από συγγενείς που βρίσκονταν στη στη Συρία, και αναζητούσαν αγνοούμενα μέλη της οικογένειάς τους, και δεν μπορούσαν να στείλουν δείγματα ακριβώς επειδή βρίσκονταν στη Συρία ».

      Έξω από το πανεπιστημιακό νοσοκομείο της Αλεξανδρούπολης, δύο κοντέινερ ψυγεία που έχουν παραχωρηθεί από τον Ερυθρό Σταυρό ως προσωρινοί νεκροθάλαμοι φιλοξενούν τα σώματα 40 προσφύγων.

      Ο καθηγητής Ιατροδικαστικής στο Δημοκρίτειο Πανεπιστήμιο Θράκης, Παύλος Παυλίδης, έχει από το 2000 πραγματοποιήσει αυτοψίες σε τουλάχιστον 800 σώματα ανθρώπων σε κίνηση, με βασικές αιτίες θανάτου τον πνιγμό στα νερά του Έβρου και την υποθερμία.

      Ο ιατροδικαστής δεν αρκείται στην απαραίτητη συλλογή DNA : καταγράφει δεδομένα όπως σημάδια γέννησης ή τατουάζ και αντικείμενα (π.χ. πορτοφόλια, δαχτυλίδια, γυαλιά), τα οποία θα μπορούσαν να αποτελέσουν τον συνδετικό κρίκο για έναν συγγενή που αναζητά το αγαπημένο του πρόσωπο.

      Λέει πως συνολικά 313 σοροί που βρέθηκαν στον Έβρο από το 2014 παραμένουν αγνώστων στοιχείων. Όσες δεν μπορούν να ταυτοποιηθούν θάβονται σε ειδικό νεκροταφείο στο Σιδηρώ, το οποίο διαχειρίζεται ο δήμος Σουφλίου, ενώ 15-20 αταυτοποίητες σοροί τάφηκαν στην Ορεστιάδα όσο γινόταν η επέκταση του νεκροταφείου Σιδηρού.

      Οι σοροί των μουσουλμάνων προσφύγων που ταυτοποιούνται ενταφιάζονται στο μουσουλμανικό νεκροταφείο στη Μεσσούνη Κομοτηνής ή επαναπατρίζονται, όταν οι συγγενείς μπορούν να καλύψουν το κόστος επαναπατρισμού.

      « Αυτό δεν είναι αξιοπρεπές »

      Απαντώντας σε σχετικά ερωτήματα, το υπουργείο Μετανάστευσης και Ασύλου είπε πως το ζήτημα των διαδικασιών ταυτοποίησης και ταφής προσφύγων δεν εμπίπτει στις αρμοδιότητές του. Εκπρόσωπος της Κομισιόν δήλωσε πως σχετικά κονδύλια προς την Ελλάδα δεν προβλέπονται, ωστόσο εν λόγω δαπάνες « θα μπορούσαν να υποστηριχθούν στο πλαίσιο του Εθνικού Προγράμματος του Ταμείου Ασύλου, Μετανάστευσης και Ένταξης », το οποίο διαχειρίζεται το υπουργείο Μετανάστευσης.

      Ο Θεόδωρος Νούσιας είναι επικεφαλής ιατροδικαστής της Ιατροδικαστικής Υπηρεσίας Βορείου Αιγαίου, δηλαδή υπεύθυνος για τα νησιά Λέσβο, Σάμο, Χίο, και Λήμνο. Σύμφωνα με τον ιατροδικαστή, η διαδικασία ταυτοποίησης μέσω DNA έχει βελτιωθεί πολύ σε σχέση με πριν από μερικά χρόνια.

      Ο Νούσιας λέει ότι πάντα ήταν διαθέσιμος, όταν του ζητήθηκε να αναγνωρίσει κάποιον. « Πρέπει να εξυπηρετείς τους ανθρώπους, γι’ αυτό βρίσκεσαι εκεί. Να εξυπηρετείς τους ανθρώπους για να μπορούν να βρουν την οικογένειά τους », προσθέτει.

      Ο ιατροδικαστής ζει στη Λέσβο, αλλά λέει πως δεν έχει πάει ποτέ στο νεκροταφείο στον Κάτω Τρίτο. « Δεν θέλω να πάω. Θα είναι δύσκολο για μένα γιατί οι περισσότεροι από αυτούς τους ανθρώπους έχουν περάσει από τα χέρια μου ».

      Τον Οκτώβριο του 2022, ο 32χρονος Σουτζά Αχμαντί και η αδελφή του Μαρίνα ταξίδεψαν επίσης στα Κύθηρα και, στη συνέχεια, στην Καλαμάτα προκειμένου να αναγνωρίσουν τη σορό του πατέρα τους, Αμπντούλ Γασί.

      Ο 65χρονος είχε ξεκινήσει το ταξίδι για την Ιταλία μαζί με τη γυναίκα του Χατίτζε — εκείνη επέζησε. Τα δύο αδέλφια επισκέφθηκαν το νοσοκομείο, όπου τους έδειξαν και τα οκτώ πτώματα, άνδρες και γυναίκες, παρότι είχαν εξαρχής εξηγήσει πως ο άνθρωπος που αναζητούσαν ήταν άνδρας.

      Το σώμα του πατέρα τους ήταν μεταξύ εκείνων που βρίσκονταν εκτός ψυγείου.

      « Η αδελφή μου έκλαιγε και τους φώναζε να πάρουν τον πατέρα μας από το κοντέινερ ψυγείο γιατί μύριζε », θυμάται ο Σουτζά. « Δεν ήταν αξιοπρεπές μέρος για έναν άνθρωπο ».

      Για την έρευνα συνεργάστηκαν οι : Gabriele Cruciata, Eoghan Gilmartin, Danai Maragoudaki, Barbara Matejčić, Leah Pattem, Gabriela Ramírez, Daphne Tolis and Tina Xu (συντονίστρια).

      Η έρευνα υποστηρίχθηκε από το Investigative Journalism for Europe (IJ4EU) και Journalismfund Europe.

      https://wearesolomon.com/el/mag/format-el/erevnes/agnoston-stoixeion-pano-apo-1000-ataftopoihtoi-tafoi-sta-evropaika-syn

    • U Hrvatskoj pronađeno 45 neimenovanih grobova migranata, među njima je bila i 5-godišnja curica: ‘Policija ih često tjera u rijeku’

      Telegram ekskluzivno donosi veliku priču Barbare Matejčić koja je, kao jedina novinarka iz Hrvatske, sudjelovala u međunarodnoj novinarskoj istrazi s kolegama iz uglednih medija poput britanskog Guardiana i njemačkog Süddeutsche Zeitunga. Otkrili su kako završavaju tijela onih koji su stradali pokušavajući ući u Europsku uniju

      U selu Siče u istočnoj Hrvatskoj više je Sičana na groblju nego među živima: živih je 230, a umrlih 250. Točnije, na groblju je 247 Sičana i tri nepoznate osobe. Bilo bi ih još više pod zemljom da Siče svoje groblje nema tek od 1970-ih. Bilo bi još više i živih da nisu, kao mnogi iz tog kraja, odlazili u veće gradove ili u inozemstvo u potrazi za boljim životom. Grobovi Sičana, ukratko, posjetitelju kažu tko su ti ljudi bili, gdje pripadaju i posjećuju li ih bližnji. Tako to biva s grobovima, sažimaju osnovne informacije naših života. Ako na grobu stoji samo NN, to sažima tragediju.

      Tko su te tri osobe kojima se ne zna ime? Kako im je posljednja adresa skromni humak u Siču? Migranti, utopili su se u obližnjoj rijeci, reći će vam mještani. Malo je mjesto, malo je groblje, sve se zna. I da ne znate ništa, jasno vam je da te tri osobe tu ne pripadaju. Ukopani su sasvim izdvojeno od ostatka groblja. Tri drvena križa s NN natpisima, zabodena u zemlju na rubu groblja. NN, kao skraćenica od latinskog nomen nescio, doslovno znači: ne znam ime.

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQAGqiWBB78&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegram.hr%2F&

      Službeno objašnjenje komunalnog poduzeća koje upravlja grobljem je da je ostavljeno mjesta za još mogućih ukopa onih kojima se ne zna ime. A objašnjenje na koje pomislite kad tamo dođete jest da su ukopani izdvojeno kako se ne bi miješali s mještanima. Ili, kako nam se u telefonskom razgovoru izlanuo načelnik jednog drugog mjesta gdje su također na margini groblja NN migrantski grobovi: “Da nam ne smetaju.”

      Afganistanci pod križem

      Na groblju u Sičama to su jedina tri groba o kojima nitko ne vodi računa. Za nekih pet godina mogao bi im nestati svaki trag. Komunalna poduzeća su dužna ukopati neidentificirana tijela, ali ne i održavati grobove osim ako grob nije od “osobe od posebnog povijesnog i društvenog značaja”, kako zakon nalaže. NN1, NN2 i NN3 su od posebnog značaja samo svojim bližnjima, koji vjerojatno ni ne znaju gdje su. Možda čekaju da im se konačno jave iz zapadne Europe. Možda ih traže. Možda ih oplakuju. No, ako zakopate malo dublje, saznat ćete ponešto o onima koji tu počivaju bez imena.

      U rano i hladno jutro 23. prosinca 2022. policija je pronašla dva tijela na obali Save, koja je u tom području odvaja Hrvatsku od Bosne i Hercegovine. Odvaja Europsku uniju od ostatka Europe. Prema policijskom izvještaju, pronašli su i skupinu od dvadeset stranih državljana koji su tim putem nezakonito ušli u Hrvatsku. Skupini je nedostajala još jedna osoba. Nakon opsežne potrage u popodnevnim satima je pronađeno i treće tijelo. Patolog Opće bolnice u Novoj Gradiški ustanovio je da je smrt za sve troje nastupila u 2.45 u noći. Dvojica su umrla od pothlađenosti, jedan se utopio.

      Kod njih su pronađene iskaznice iz izbjegličkog kampa u Bosni i Hercegovini. Saznali smo da su, prema iskaznicama, sva trojica bila iz Afganistana: Ahmedi Abozari imao je 17 godina, Basir Naseri imao je 21 godinu i Shakir Atoin je imao 25 godina. NN1, NN2 i NN3. Za dvojicu od njih su i drugi iz skupine migranata potvrdili identitet, rekli su nam iz Policijske uprave brodsko-posavske. Zašto su onda pokopani kao NN? Ako se znalo da su iz Afganistana, zašto su pokopani pod križem? Ako ih traže obitelji, kako će ih naći?
      ‘Neka plate za ime na grobu’

      U upravi groblja su bili ljubazni i rekli da pokapaju prema tome kako stoji u dozvoli za ukop koju potpisuje patolog. A stajalo je NN. Patolog je rekao da podatke ispisuje na temelju informacija dobivenih od policije i mrtvozornika. Iz nadležne policije su nam rekli da se osoba sahranjuje po pravilima lokalne uprave. Groblje Siče pripada Općini Nova Kapela, čiji nam je načelnik Ivan Šmit nezadovoljno nabrojao sve troškove koje je njegova općina snosila za te ukope i poručio da ako će netko za to platiti, onda može promijeniti oznaku NN u imena.

      Na niz smo takvih administrativnih nejasnoća naišli istražujući kako nadležna tijela postupaju s tijelima onih koji su stradali pokušavajući ući u Europsku uniju, kao dio Border Graves Investigation koje je proveo tim od osam slobodnih novinara u zemljama na migrantskim rutama, zajedno s britanskim Guardianom i njemačkim Süddeutsche Zeitungom.

      Nema jedinstvene europske baze podataka o broju migranata koji su pokopani u Europi. No tim je uspio potvrditi najmanje 1.931 takav grob u Grčkoj, Italiji, Španjolskoj, Hrvatskoj, Malti, Poljskoj i Francuskoj u zadnjem desetljeću, dakle od 2014. do 2023. Od toga je 1.015 NN grobova. Više od polovice neidentificiranih grobova je, očekivano, u Grčkoj – 551, u Italiji 248 i u Španjolskoj 109. U Hrvatskoj smo utvrdili 59 grobova migranata koji su ukopani posljednjeg desetljeća, od čega ih 45 nije identificirano. Podaci su temeljeni na različitim bazama podataka koje u pojedinačnim zemljama prikupljaju međunarodne organizacije, nevladine udruge, znanstvenici i istraživači, kao i od lokalnih vlasti te terenskim radom.

      Tim novinara je posjetio 24 groblja u Grčkoj, Italiji, Španjolskoj, Hrvatskoj, Poljskoj i Litvi, gdje je ukupno 555 grobova neidentificiranih migranata od 2014. do 2023. To su oni čija su tijela pronađena i pokopana. Međunarodni odbor Crvenog križa procjenjuje da se 87 posto onih koji nestanu na europskim južnim granicama nikad ne pronađe. Za kopnene migrantske rute nema procjena.
      Traže li migrante kao što traže turiste?

      Prosinac 2022. kad su umrla trojica mladih Afganistanaca je bio kišniji nego inače i Sava je nabujala. No ionako je velika i brza. Na tom je području samo tri dana ranije nestalo petero turskih državljana nakon što im se na Savi prevrnuo čamac. Među njima su bili dvogodišnja curica, dvanaestogodišnji dečko i njihovi roditelji. Brat nestalog oca je došao iz Njemačke u Hrvatsku kako bi saznao što se dogodilo s obitelji. Iz dokumentacije koju posjedujemo, vidljivo je da je uz pomoć turkologinje Nine Rajković pokušavao od više policijskih postaja doći do informacija u vezi nestalih. Nije ih dobio ni mjesecima kasnije. Htjeli su prijaviti nestanak, no u policiji im je rečeno da prijavu nema smisla pisati ako osobe nisu prethodno registrirane na području Hrvatske ili Bosne i Hercegovine.

      Na niz smo sličnih primjera naišli baveći se ovom temom. Mladić je došao u Hrvatsku i prijavio policiji i u Hrvatskoj i u Sloveniji da mu se brat utopio u Kupi. No njegov nestanak nije evidentiran u hrvatskoj nacionalnoj bazi nestalih osoba koja je javno dostupna. Policija brata nije kontaktirala nakon što je u narednim danima u Kupi nađeno više neidentificiranih tijela. Afganistanac je šest mjeseci čekao da se tijelo njegova brata, koji se utopio kad su zajedno pokušali prijeći Savu također u prosincu 2022., prebaci iz Hrvatske u Bosnu i Hercegovinu da ga može pokopati. Iako je potvrdio da je riječ o njegovu bratu, proces identifikacije je bio spor i kompliciran.

      Naišli smo i na primjere obitelji koje nemaju nekoga u Europi tko može doputovati i uporno tragati za informacijama, već izdaleka pokušavaju ući u trag bližnjima koji se gube na području Hrvatske i na kraju su obeshrabreno odustali. Puno je pitanja i malo jasnih odgovora na temu nestalih i umrlih migranata na tzv. Balkanskoj ruti, čiji je Hrvatska dio. Ne postoje jasni protokoli i procedure oko toga kome i kako se prijavljuje nestanak. Ne zna se traži li se nestale migrante aktivno, kao što se ljeti traži nestale turiste. Nije jasno koliko je informacija, i kojih, potrebno za identifikaciju.
      Obitelji se nemaju kome javiti

      “Kruženje informacije između institucija i pojedinih odjela mi se čini gotovo nepostojeća. U jednom slučaju mi je trebalo više od dva mjeseca i deseci telefonskih poziva i mailova upućenih na različite adrese, policijske postaje, policijske uprave, bolnice, državno odvjetništvo, samo da potaknem pokretanje identifikacije koja do danas, više od godinu dana kasnije, još nije završena”, kaže Marijana Hameršak s Instituta za etnologiju i folkloristiku u Zagrebu. Ona vodi znanstveni projekt “Europski režim iregulariziranih migracija na periferiji EU” u kojem se prikuplja znanje i podaci o nestalim i umrlim migrantima. Na kraju sve ovisi o susretljivim i posvećenim pojedincima u institucijama, kaže Hamrešak, no oni ne mogu nositi cijeli teret disfunkcionalnog sustava.

      Potrage za nestalim i pokušaji identifikacije umrlih migranata u Hrvatskoj, kao i susjednoj Bosni i Hercegovini, najčešće počivaju na trudu volontera i aktivista, koji poput Marijane tragaju za informacijama u kaotičnoj administraciji jer je obiteljima koje ne poznaju jezik taj zadatak praktički nesavladiv. Tako je Facebook grupa Dead and Missing in the Balkans postala glavno mjesto razmjene fotografija i podataka o nestalima i umrlima između obitelji i aktivista. Ne postoj internetska stranica na engleskom nadležnog Ministarstva unutarnjih poslova na koju se mogu javiti iz Afganistana ili Sirije i raspitati se za sudbinu svojih bližnjih, ostaviti podatke o njima i prijaviti nestanak.

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PldA9Pa3LJc&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegram.hr%2F&

      Nema ni regionalne baze podataka o nestalim i umrlim migrantima na kojoj bi surađivale policije makar iz zemalja među kojima se bilježi najviše prelazaka – iz Bosne i Hercegovine u Hrvatsku. Povjerenica Vijeća Europe za ljudska prava Dunja Mijatović je u razgovoru s našim timom naglasila da je iznimno važno uspostaviti centraliziranu europsku bazu podataka o nestalim i umrlim migrantima. Kad bi takva baza podataka objedinjavala ante-mortem (podaci o osobi koji se prikupljaju od rodbine i poznanika, poput fizičkih karakteristika i opisa odjeće koju je nosila posljednji put, koje je predmete imala uz sebe itd.) i post-mortem (kao DNK uzorak i fotografije) podatke o umrlima, uvelike bi se povećale šanse za identifikaciju.
      Poginuti ili ostvariti san

      “Obitelji imaju pravo znati istinu o tome što se dogodilo njihovim najbližima”, kaže Mijatović. No suradnja policija susjednih zemalja u održavanju vanjske granice EU nepropusnom je učinkovita. Ranije migranti nisu tako često pokušavali prijeći Savu. Znali su da je previše opasna. Dijele informacije jedni s drugima i ne upuštaju se u prelazak takve rijeke u dječjim čamcima na napuhavanje ili u zračnicama kotača. Ako nisu sasvim očajni.

      Hrvatska policija je push-backovima i upotrebom sile – na što već godinama upozoravaju Amnesty International i Human Rights Watch – otežala prelazak drugim, manje opasnim prijelazima duž zelene granice s Bosnom i Hercegovinom. Kako nam je rekao mladi Marokanac u Bosni i Hercegovini, koji je 11 puta pokušao preći u Hrvatsku ali ga je hrvatska policija svaki put vratila: “Imaš dva izbora: poginuti ili ostvariti san.” Koliko ih je poginulo na Balkanskoj ruti u pokušaju ostvarenja sna, teško je utvrditi. Najsveobuhvatniji podaci za zemlje bivše Jugoslavije su oni koje prikupljaju istraživači projekta “Europski režim iregulariziranih migracija na periferiji EU”, i broje 346 stradalih od 2014. do 2023. u Hrvatskoj, Bosni i Hercegovini, Srbiji, Sloveniji, Sjevernoj Makedoniji i na Kosovu.

      ERIM-ova baza pojedinačno navodi svakog stradalog i sadrži onoliko podataka koliko su istraživači mogli prikupiti iz raznih izvora – medija, svjedoka stradanja, od institucija, iz aktivističkih kanala. No brojka je zasigurno bitno veća. Nestanak nekih nije ni evidentiran. Tijela mnogih nikad nisu pronađena. Stara planina između Bugarske i Srbije težak je i nedostupan teren. Tu će na preminule naići samo oni koji su istom sudbinom nagnani na taj put i neće riskirati prijavu. Ako stradaju u minskim poljima zaostalim iza ratova u Hrvatskoj i Bosni i Hercegovini, od tijela im neće ostati mnogo. Najviše je pronađeno tijela utopljenih u rijekama, no nema procjena koliko utopljenih nije nikad pronađeno.
      U Hrvatskoj 45 neidentificiranih

      Hrvatsko Ministarstvo unutarnjih poslova nam je dostavilo podatke o stradalim migrantima od 2015., otkad vode evidenciju, do kraja studenog 2023.: ukupno 87 stradalih migranata na području Republike Hrvatske. Ni jedno službeno tijelo u Hrvatskoj, Bosni i Hercegovini i Srbiji ne vodi evidenciju o pokopanim migrantima na tom teritoriju. No za Hrvatsku smo uspjeli doći do podataka, zahvaljujući upitima poslanima na preko 500 adresa gradova, općina i komunalnih poduzeća koja upravljaju grobljima. Prema dobivenim podacima, u Hrvatskoj se na 32 groblja nalazi 59 grobova migranata, koji su ukopani posljednjeg desetljeća, dakle od 2014. do danas. Od toga ih 45 nije identificirano.

      Neki pokopani migranti su ekshumirani i vraćeni obiteljima u zemlju porijekla, premda je to za obitelji zahtjevan i iznimno skup proces. U MUP-u navode da se od 2001. DNK uzorci uzimaju od svih neidentificiranih tijela, a obradu provodi Centar za forenzična ispitivanja, istraživanja i vještačenja Ivan Vučetić. Tražili smo od MUP-a razgovor sa stručnjacima koji rade na identifikaciji migranata, ali nam nije udovoljeno.

      Među NN grobovima u Hrvatskoj je mrtvorođena beba iz Sirije pokopana 2015. u Slavonskom Brodu. Petogodišnja djevojčica koja se utopila u Dunavu i pokopana je 2021. u Dalju. Prošlo ljeto je mladić u brdovitom predjelu na dubrovačkom području umro od iscrpljenosti. Neke je udario vlak. Mnogi su umrli od pothlađenosti. Neki umru jer im nije na vrijeme pružena pomoć. Neki ne vjeruju da im išta više može pomoći pa se ubiju.
      Nerazriješeni gubitak

      Prema zakonu, sahranjuju se najbliže mjestu stradavanja tako da su uglavnom na malim grobljima poput onog u Sičama. Često su, baš kao tamo, njihovi grobovi izdvojeni od ostatka groblja. Ponegdje je, kao u Otoku, netko od mještanki mekog srca dao sebi u zadatak da brine o NN grobu. Negdje je, kao na groblju u Prilišću, NN drveni križ iz 2019. već istrunuo.

      Iza svakog tog NN groba ostaju bližnji koji se nose s teretom neznanja što se dogodilo. Psiholozi to zovu nerazriješenim gubitkom, jer toliko dugo koliko bližnji nemaju potvrdu da su njihovi voljeni mrtvi i ne znaju gdje su im tijela, ne mogu žalovati za njima. Ako nastave sa životom, osjećaju krivnju. I tako su zamrznuti u stanju između očaja i nade. Američka psihologinja dr. Pauline Boss autorica je termina i teorije o nerazriješenom gubitku. “Znati gdje je grob bližnje osobe je jako važno jer pomaže da se oprostite”, rekla je dr. Boss u razgovoru za naš tim.

      Postoji i praktična strana te zamrznutosti: ako osoba nije proglašena mrtvom, ne može se provesti nasljeđivanje, ne može se pristupiti bankovnom računu, ne može se dobiti obiteljska mirovina, partner ili partnerica se ne mogu ponovno vjenčati, komplicira se skrbništvo nad djecom. Mnoge obitelj i u Hrvatskoj i u Bosni i Hercegovini dobro poznaju nerazriješeni gubitak; ratovi u devedesetima ostavili su tisuće nestalih. Obje zemlje imaju posebne zakone o nestalima u tim ratovima i dobro razrađene mehanizme potrage, identifikacije, pohranjivanja podataka i međusobne suradnje. No to se ne primjenjuje na migrante koji se gube i pogibaju među tisućama koji se kreću Balkanskom rutom.
      Uređeni koridor – nula mrtvih

      Hrvatska je postala važna točka ulaska u Europsku uniju nakon što je Mađarska zatvorila granice u rujnu 2015. Od tada pa do ožujka 2016. preko hrvatske dionice Balkanskog koridora – dakle, međudržavnog, organiziranog puta – prema procjenama, prošlo je oko 660.000 izbjeglica. Taj koridor im je omogućio da od Grčke pa do zapadne Europe dođu u dva ili tri dana. I dolazili su sigurno. Od tih stotina tisuća ljudi u pokretu, hrvatski MUP ne bilježi niti jednu smrt 2015. i 2016. Koridor je i uspostavljen da bi se spriječila stradavanja nakon što je veći broj izbjeglica u proljeće 2015. poginuo na željezničkoj pruzi u Makedoniji.

      No sa sklapanjem europsko-turskog sporazuma o izbjeglicama u ožujku 2016. godine, koridor je zatvoren. EU se obavezala izdašno financirati Tursku da izbjeglice drži na svom teritoriju kako ne bi dolazili u Europsku uniju. I tako je migrantima ostala pogibeljna Balkanska ruta. Mnogi njom idu. Samo u deset mjeseci 2023. hrvatska je policija evidentirala 62.452 postupanja vezano za nezakonite prelaske granice.

      I Ured pučke pravobraniteljice u Hrvatskoj i povjerenica Vijeća Europe za ljudska prava upozoravaju na isto: granične i migracijske politike utječu na povećanje rizika od nestajanja migranata. I da je potrebno da se u EU uspostave legalni i sigurni putevi migracija. No, EU očekuje od Hrvatske da štiti zajedničku vanjsku granicu. I Hrvatska to zdušno radi. Takvu praksu ministar Davor Božinović naziva “obeshrabrivanjem” migranata da uđu u Hrvatsku.
      ‘Obeshrabreni’ pod vlak

      Rezultat takve prakse je, primjerice, smrt Madine Hussiny. Šestogodišnju afganistansku djevojčicu je ubio vlak nakon što je njenu obitelj hrvatska policija “obeshrabrila” i usred noći 2017. potjerala nazad u Srbiju uz uputu da prate tračnice. Europski sud za ljudska prava u studenom 2021. je presudio da je Hrvatska odgovorna za Madininu smrt. U svjedočanstvima koja smo čuli, kao i u mnogim izvještajima nevladinih organizacija, migranti opisuju da im je hrvatska policija na granici naredila da pregaze ili preplivaju rijeku kako bi se vratili u Bosnu ili Srbiju, da se penju preko stijena, idu kroz šumu, nekad i svučeni dogola i ne znajući put jer im policija u pravilu oduzme mobitele.

      Prema podacima koje prikuplja Dansko vijeće za izbjeglice, od početka 2020. do kraja 2022. najmanje je 30.000 ljudi prisilno vraćeno iz Hrvatske u Bosnu i Hercegovinu. Među njima je bio i Afganistanac Arat Semiullah. U studenom 2022. je namjeravao prijeći Savu i ući iz Bosne u Hrvatsku. Utopio se. Imao je 20 godina. Pokopan je na pravoslavnom groblju u Banja Luci. Njegova obitelj u Afganistanu nije znala što mu se dogodilo. Dan ranije je poslao mami fotografiju na kojoj je svježe ošišan za ulazak u Europsku uniju. I onda se prestao javljati.

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2nVP5AL1x0&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegram.hr%2F&

      Majka je molila nećaka Paymana Sediqija, koji živi u Njemačkoj, da ga pokuša pronaći. Payman je stupio u kontakt s aktivistom Nihadom Suljićem, koji u Bosni i Hercegovini samostalno pomaže obiteljima da doznaju što je s njihovim bližnjima. Tjednima su pokušavali doći do informacija. Payman je otputovao u Bosnu i uspio pronaći tijelo rođaka zahvaljujući susretljivosti policajke koja mu je pokazala forenzičke fotografije. Aratova mama je telefonski potvrdila da je to njezin sin.
      U Europi sahranili snove

      Na Aratovoj osmrtnici objavljenoj u Bosni i Hercegovini piše da je “hrvatska policija vatrenim oružjem potopila čamac te se on tragično utopio”. Uz pomoć muslimanske zajednice, a na želju obitelji, uspjeli su tijelo prebaciti iz Banja Luke na muslimansko groblje u Kamičanima. Htjeli su ga pokopati u Afganistanu, ali im je bilo previše skupo i birokratski komplicirano. U rujnu 2023. susreli smo se s Nihadom i Paymanom kad je Aratu postavljen velik kameni nadgrobni spomenik. Na njemu piše: “U pokušaju dolaska do Europe utopio se u rijeci Savi.”

      Payman nam je ispričao da je Arat prelazio Savu u skupini migranata. Dio njih je uspio doći do hrvatske obale, no onda je hrvatska policija pucala u gumeni čamac u kojem je bio Arat. Čamac se potopio i Arat se utopio. Tako je Paymanu ispričao preživjeli koji je prešao na hrvatsku obalu Save. Payman kaže da je Aratova obitelj u velikoj boli, ali da makar znaju gdje im je sin i da je pokopan po religijskim običajima. Paymanu je važno da na grobu piše da je Arat stradao kao migrant.

      “Svakodnevno u Europi umiru ljudi koji bježe iz zemalja u kojima im nema života. U Europi se sahranjuju njihovi snovi. Nikoga nije briga za njih, čak ni kad europski policajci pucaju na njih”, kaže Payman. Zna o kakvim snovima govori; i sam je ilegalno došao u Njemačku sa 16 godina. Kaže da je imao sreće. Nihad se zalaže da se i drugi grobovi migranata u Bosni i Hercegovini trajno obilježe. Vodi nas na groblje u Zvorniku gdje je pokopano 17 NN migranata. Kaže kako za neke od njih ima informaciju da su imali pasoš sa sobom kad su pronađeni.
      ‘Ove ljude nije ubila rijeka’

      S groblja se vidi Drina, koja dijeli Srbiju od Bosne i u kojoj mnogi izgube život pokušavajući je preći. Samo je ove godine u Drini pronađeno tridesetak tijela. Nihad kaže da imaju sreće ako ih rijeka izbaci na bosansku stranu jer se u Srbiji često ne radi ni obdukcija niti uzimaju DNK uzorci. To su nam potvrdili i aktivisti iz Srbije. U tom slučaju su i u smrti sasvim izgubljeni za svoje obitelji. Zemljani NN grobovi u Zvorniku su zarasli i nisu omeđeni, tako da ne znate gazite li po njima.

      Nihad je uspio uvjeriti Grad Zvornik da drvena obilježja zamijene crnim kamenom. Važno mu je da su pokopani dostojanstveno, ali mu je još važnije da ostanu svjedočiti. “Želja mi je da i za sto godina ovi grobovi budu spomenici srama EU. Jer, nije ove ljude ubila rijeka, nego granični režim EU”, kaže Nihad.

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJkS3qHfA54&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegram.hr%2F&

      https://www.telegram.hr/preview/1905158

    • An obscure island grave: fate of deadly EU migration route’s youngest victim

      Case of #Alhassane_Bangoura in #Lanzarote highlights Europe-wide failure as authorities struggle to cope with scale of deaths

      Stretching less than a metre in length and covered in the ochre-coloured soil that dots the Canary island of Lanzarote, large stones encircle the tiny mound. There is no tombstone or plaque; nothing official to signal that this is the final resting site of the infant believed to be the youngest victim of one of the world’s deadliest migration routes.

      Instead, two bouquets of plastic daisies adorn the grave, along with a granite bowl engraved with his name, Alhassane Bangoura, hinting at the impact his story had on many across the island.

      His mother, originally from Guinea, was among three pregnant women who joined 40 others in an inflatable raft that left Morocco in early January 2020. After running out of fuel, the flimsy raft was left to the mercy of Atlantic currents for three days.

      “They were driven by desperation,” said Mamadou Sy, a municipal councillor for the Socialist party in Lanzarote. “Nobody would get into one of these vessels if they had even a little bit of hope in their own country. Nobody would do it.”

      So far this year, a record 35,410 migrants and refugees have arrived on the shores of the Canary Islands – a 135% increase over last year. More than 11,000 of them landed at the tiny island of El Hierro, home to just 9,000 people.

      The surge in those risking the perilous route has transformed the archipelago into a microcosm of the wider strain playing out across the EU as authorities struggle to deal with the bodies of those that die on their way. A Guardian investigation in collaboration with a consortium of reporters has found that refugees and migrants are being buried in unmarked graves across the EU at a scale that is unprecedented outside of war.

      In September, the mayor of Mogán, a municipality on the island of Gran Canaria, gave voice to the tensions that have at times surfaced as officials across the EU confront this issue, announcing she would no longer use her budget to cover the cost of burying refugees and migrants who are found along the shores that buttress the municipality.

      “When they die on the high seas, it is the responsibility of the state,” Onalia Bueno told reporters, in rejection of a Spanish law that requires municipalities to foot the bills for people who die within their jurisdiction and who are either unidentified or whose families cannot cover the costs.

      At the Teguise municipal cemetery on the island of Lanzarote, more than 25 unmarked graves sit among a plot containing about 60 graves in total. It was here that baby Alhassane was buried. His mother had delivered him as the rickety vessel pitched against the fierce Atlantic swells; those onboard later told media they never heard the baby cry.

      His body was cold when the vessel was rescued, an emergency services spokesperson said. He was taken to the nearest hospital but was declared dead on arrival. His body was taken to judicial authorities as is the standard practice in Spain for migrants and refugees who perish at sea or on arrival.

      Alhassane’s mother, who was unconscious when she was rescued, was later sent to Gran Canaria, about 200km (125 miles) away, where an NGO had agreed to take her into its care. But the Spanish judicial system had yet to release her son’s body – a process that can take up to eight months in Lanzarote.

      The funeral took place on 25 January. “She wasn’t able to attend the funeral,” said Laetitia Marthe, who was among those who unsuccessfully battled for Alhassane’s mother to be allowed to attend. “Basically they’re treated like numbers.”

      Instead, Marthe was among the handful of people who attended the funeral in her name.

      Judicial officials had liaised with the mother to check the baby’s name, said Eugenio Robayna Díaz, the municipal councillor responsible for cemeteries in the city of Teguise. But he did not know why the name had not made it on to the grave.

      Julie Campagne, an anthropologist based in Lanzarote, called for the baby’s grave to be marked with a plaque. “We’re witnessing the process of forgetting in real time. And this loss of memory comes with a shirking of our responsibility for what is happening.”

      Generally speaking, all over the world, there is always a small fraction of people who die and are never identified, she added. “But that is not what is happening here. This is happening for specific reasons. This is happening because of the policy decisions of our governments.”

      While Alhassane’s mother was not able to attend the funeral, what did eventually make it to his gravesite was a smooth stone, painted by her in yellow and red and brought there by those travelling from Gran Canaria shortly after the burial. Written on the stone was a message for her son.

      More than three years of rain has washed away much of what was there but Marthe copied down the message, hoping to one day add it to a formal marker of the site. “I will miss you a lot my baby,” it reads. “I love you.”

      https://www.theguardian.com/world/2023/dec/08/an-obscure-island-grave-fate-of-deadly-eu-migration-routes-youngest-vic

      #Teguise

    • Dead refugees in the Balkans: bribes to find missing relatives

      In comparison to 2015, today more asylum seekers are dying on the Balkan route. While relatives are forced to overcome state indifference to identify their loved ones, they are also forced to bribe authorities, even border guards, in the hope of finding them.

      He had hoped to find his son in a refugee camp. And after spending three weeks looking for him, he had prepared himself for the possibility of finding him in a hospital.

      But he didn’t expect to find him in the graveyard.

      When the policeman with Bulgarian insignia on his uniform showed him the picture of his son lying lifeless in the grass, he lost the ground under his feet. “I wish I could at least have been able to see Majd one last time. My mind still can’t believe that the person in this grave is my son,” says Husam Adin Bibars.

      The 56-year-old Syrian refugee, a father of four other children, had spent 22 days searching for his son from afar when he decided to spend his meager savings to travel from Denmark to Bulgaria to look for him – but it was too late.

      In Bulgaria, he learned that 27-year-old Majd’s body had been buried within just four days of its discovery. Majd had been buried as an unidentified person; there was nothing to indicate that the person buried under that pile of dirt, which Bibars later visited, was his son.

      “We hear that Europe is the land of freedom, democracy, and human rights,” says Bibars soberly. “Where are human rights if I am not able to see my son before his burial?”

      Dead without identification

      Majd had crossed from Turkey to Bulgaria with a group of about 20 other people, hoping to reunite with his parents and siblings in Europe. Once he arrived, his pregnant wife and their daughter, Hannah, would follow.

      Toward the end of September, he stopped returning calls and texts. The smuggler told Bibars that Majd had fallen ill and they needed to leave him behind. Authorities told Bibars his son died of thirst, exhaustion, and exposure.

      In recent years, with the support of EU funds and the increased involvement of the European border agency Frontex, Balkan countries have stepped up border controls, constructing fences, deploying drones and surveillance mechanisms. But this doesn’t deter asylum seekers – it causes them to take longer and more dangerous routes to avoid authorities.

      An investigation by Solomon in collaboration with investigative newsroom Lighthouse Reports, the German magazine Der Spiegel and German public television ARD, the British newspaper i, and Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, found that the hostility people face at the borders of Europe in life continues even in death.

      We found that since the start of 2022, the lifeless bodies of 155 people presumed to be migrants have ended up in morgues close to borders along a route that includes Serbia, Bulgaria, and Bosnia.

      According to the data, for 2023 there is already a 46% increase in deaths compared to the whole of 2022.

      In the Balkans, people making the journey have to cope with harsh weather conditions, but also with pushbacks, increased brutality by border guards and smugglers, theft by border forces – even detention in secret prisons.

      For their part, the families of those who go missing or die in the region have to search for their loved ones in morgues, hospitals, and special Facebook and WhatsApp groups, and to cope with an equally arduous effort facing the indifference of the authorities.

      In Bulgaria, this investigation reveals, they often also need to pay bribes in the hope of learning more about their missing loved ones.
      The 10 key findings of the investigation:

      - In 2022, the number of people travelling irregularly through the Balkans to Western Europe reached its highest point since 2015, with Frontex recording 144,118 irregular border crossings.

      – The corresponding figure for 2023 is lower (79,609 by September), but remains a multiple of 2019 (15,127) and 2018 (5,844).

      – The Balkan route is more dangerous than ever: in the absence of a centralised relevant registration system, the International Organization for Migration’s (IOM) Missing Migrants platform suggests that more people died or went missing in 2022 than in 2015.

      - According to data gathered for this investigation, at least 155 unidentified bodies ended up in six selected morgues along a section of the Balkan route that includes Bulgaria, Serbia, and Bosnia. The majority of the bodies (92) were found this year.

      - For 2023, the number is already showing a 46% increase compared to 2022, and is exploding in some morgues.

      – Some morgues in Bulgaria (Burgas, Yambol) are having difficulty finding space for the bodies of refugees. Others in Serbia (Loznina) have no space at all.

      - This contributes to unidentified bodies being buried within days, in ‘No Name’ graves. This means that families are left without the opportunity to search for their loved ones.

      - In Bulgaria, families told us that they had to bribe staff at hospitals and morgues, but border guards too, when searching for their loved ones. Sources in the field confirm the practice, which is also recorded in an audio file in our possession.

      – In Bosnia, at least 28 people presumed to be asylum seekers have already died in the Drina River this year, compared to just five in 2022 and three in 2021.

      - Bureaucracy and lack of state interest are recorded as hampering efforts to identify dead asylum seekers.

      Dead but cause of death unknown

      What do you do when your little brother is missing, and because of your status in the country you live in, you can’t travel to look for him?

      Asmatullah Sediqi, a 29-year-old asylum seeker, was in his asylum accommodation in Warrington, UK, when his brother’s travel companions informed him that 22-year-old Rahmatullah was likely dead.

      Due to his status as an asylum seeker, the UK Home Office did not allow Asmatullah to return to Bulgaria, which he had also crossed on his journey, to look for his brother.

      When a friend was able to go on his behalf, the Bulgarian police refused to give any information. And the morgue staff asked for 300 euros to let him see some bodies, Sediqi said in this investigation.

      “In such a situation, a person should help a person,” he added. “They only know money. They are not interested in human life.”

      He managed to borrow the amount they asked for. In July 2022, 55 days after his brother’s disappearance, the Burgas hospital confirmed that one of the bodies in the morgue belonged to Rahmatullah. With another 3,000 euros borrowed, a company repatriated the remains to their parents in Afghanistan.

      But to this day, Sediqi is consumed by one thought: he doesn’t know how, he hasn’t been told why, his brother died.

      The Bulgarian authorities have not given him the results of the autopsy “because I don’t have a visa to travel there,” he says. “I’m sure that when the police found him in the forest, they must have taken some photos. It’s very painful not knowing what happened to my brother. It’s devastating.”
      “Not a single complaint”

      As part of this investigation by Solomon, Lighthouse Reports, RFE/RL, inews, ARD και Der Spiegel, several relatives told us they had also been forced to bribe workers at the Burgas hospital’s morgue to find out if their family members were among the dead.

      When we asked the hospital administration whether they were aware of such practices, Galina Mileva, head of the forensic medicine department at Burgas hospital, said that they had not received “a single report or complaint about such a case. The identification of the bodies is done only in the presence of a police officer conducting the investigation and a forensic expert.”

      The administration also replied that there is no legal provision under which employees could claim money from relatives for this procedure.

      “We appeal to these complaints to be addressed through official channels to us and to the investigating authorities. If such practices are found to exist, the workers will be held accountable,” they added.
      “Money is requested at every step of the process”

      Another relative, whose family also travelled to Bulgaria in late 2022 to search for a family member, told us that after they paid staff at the morgue 300 euros to be allowed to look at the dead bodies, they also had to pay border guards.

      It was the only way they could be taken seriously, the relative explained.

      When they asked the border guards to show them photos of people who had been found dead, the border guards said they didn’t have time, but when the family agreed to pay 20 euros for each photo shown to them, time was found.

      Georgi Voynov, a lawyer for the Bulgarian Committee Helsinki Refugee and Migrant Programme, confirmed that families of deceased persons have approached the Committee about cases in which hospitals asked for large sums of money to confirm that the bodies of their loved ones were there.

      “They complain that they are being asked for money at every step of the process,” he said.

      International organisations, including the Bulgarian Red Cross, confirmed that they had such experiences from persons they had supported, who said they had been forced to pay money to hospitals and morgues.

      A Bulgarian Red Cross official, who spoke on condition of anonymity, commented:

      “We understand that these people are very overwhelmed and have to be paid extra for all the extra work they do. But this should be done in a legal way.”

      https://wearesolomon.com/mag/focus-area/migration/dead-refugees-in-the-balkans

      #Bulgarie #Drina #Galina_Mileva

  • Rohingya child challenges Croatia and Slovenia over violent pushbacks. Unaccompanied minor files complaints at UN Child Rights Committee

    A Rohingya child refugee faced repeated beatings by Croatian border officers, had his belongings burnt and his shoes confiscated before numerous forced expulsions, including a “chain” pushback from Slovenia. U.F. submitted complaints against Croatia and Slovenia at the UN Child Rights Committee for multiple violations of the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC). These are the first complaints of their kind against these two states.

    Case

    U.F. was 8 years old when he fled a military attack on his village and became separated from his family. After many years searching for protection, he spent over a year in Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH) from 2020 to 2021 having to survive without state support or medical care, sleeping rough in forests and squatting in abandoned buildings. During this time, he was pushed back five times from Croatia to BiH and subjected to consistent, choreographed violence. In Slovenia he was subjected to a “chain” pushback, by which he was forcibly returned first to Croatia by Slovenian authorities and then onwards by Croatian authorities to BiH in a coordinated operation.

    National, EU, and international law oblige Croatia and Slovenia to act in a child’s best interests and prioritize the identification of their age during their handling by border officers. The applicant’s complaints argue violations of the CRC, in relation to his expulsions and ill-treatment, and states’ failure to assess his age or apply any of the relevant safeguards under articles 3, 8, 20(1), and 37 CRC. U.F. corroborated his accounts with a range of digital evidence. The complaints were filed against Croatia and Slovenia with the support of ECCHR and Blindspots. The litigation forms part of the Advancing Child Rights Strategic Litigation project (ACRiSL). ACRiSL comes under the auspices of the Global Campus of Human Rights – Right Livelihood cooperation.

    Context

    In Croatia, pushbacks form part of a designed and systematic state policy, which has been fully documented by human rights institutions, NGOs and the media. Slovenia’s pushbacks have been implemented since 2018 through a readmission agreement which authorizes hasty expulsions with complete disregard for a person’s protection needs, a child’s identity or their best interests. In 2020 and 2021 alone, 13.700 people were pushed back from Slovenia in this manner.

    The applicant is represented by ECCHR partner lawyer, Carsten Gericke. These complaints are the latest in a series of legal steps to address systematic human rights violation at the EU’s external borders.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=72&v=HJlmNZdblSc&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fww


    https://www.ecchr.eu/en/case/pushbacks-un-child-rights-croatia-slovenia

    #vidéo #migrations #asile #réfugiés #Croatie #Balkans #route_des_Balkans #frontières #violence #MNA #mineurs_non_accompagnés #violence #vidéo #film_d'animation #frontière_sud-alpine #push-backs #refoulements #Bosnie #Bosnie-Herzégovine #pattern #vol #Myanmar #enfants #enfance #réfugiés_rohingya #enfermement #refoulements_en_chaîne #the_game #frontière_sud-alpine

  • Au Royaume-Uni, bras de fer sur l’immigration entre Rishi Sunak et l’aile droite des tories
    https://www.lemonde.fr/international/article/2023/12/07/au-royaume-uni-bras-de-fer-sur-l-immigration-entre-rishi-sunak-et-l-aile-dro

    Au Royaume-Uni, bras de fer sur l’immigration entre Rishi Sunak et l’aile droite des tories
    Par Cécile Ducourtieux(Londres, correspondante)
    L’un des quelques succès de Rishi Sunak a été, jusqu’à présent, d’avoir réussi à apaiser les dissensions au sein du Parti conservateur britannique, qui ont conduit à l’éviction de trois premiers ministres en trois ans : Theresa May, Boris Johnson et Liz Truss. Mais cette fragile unité est de nouveau menacée, alors que le dirigeant tente de relancer sa stratégie migratoire. Cette dernière est contestée par la droite du parti, qui ne la trouve pas assez radicale, certains avançant des raisons de fond, d’autres semblant mus par d’évidentes ambitions personnelles.
    Jeudi 7 décembre, M. Sunak a défendu un nouveau projet de loi d’urgence. Baptisé « sûreté du Rwanda », il vise à remettre sur les rails l’accord de transfert de demandeurs d’asile arrivés au Royaume-Uni en « small boats » à travers la Manche, vers le Rwanda. Cet accord a été déclaré illégal le 15 novembre par la Cour suprême britannique.La plus haute juridiction du pays a considéré que ce partenariat, signé au printemps 2022 entre Londres et Kigali mais encore jamais mis en œuvre à cause de multiples recours juridiques, présentait un risque « réel » de refoulement des demandeurs d’asile vers leur pays d’origine par les autorités rwandaises, même si leur demande de protection était justifiée. Or, le Royaume-Uni adhère au principe du non-refoulement, qui est inscrit dans sa loi nationale et dans des traités internationaux dont le pays est signataire : la convention des Nations unies sur les réfugiés et la Convention européenne des droits de l’homme.
    Le projet de loi d’urgence dispose que pour le Parlement britannique, le Rwanda est sûr au regard de l’asile, c’est-à-dire que les demandeurs d’asile et réfugiés y sont traités dans le respect des conventions internationales. Selon le texte, personne n’est en droit de contester ce caractère « sûr » du pays de l’Afrique des Grands Lacs : ni les politiques, ni les fonctionnaires, ni les juges britanniques… Il contredit donc un fait pourtant établi par la Cour suprême – le risque de refoulement – afin de neutraliser les recours en justice pour éviter les déportations. Le texte complète un traité signé mardi 5 décembre entre James Cleverly, le ministre de l’intérieur britannique, et le chef de la diplomatie rwandaise, Vincent Biruta, dans lequel le Rwanda s’engage à ne refouler aucun des demandeurs d’asile arrivés depuis le Royaume-Uni. Soit ils recevront un statut de réfugiés au Rwanda, soit ils obtiendront un droit de séjour dans le pays. Ce traité et le projet de loi Rwanda « répondent point par point à la décision de la Cour suprême », a assuré Rishi Sunak, lors d’une conférence de presse, jeudi. « J’ai confiance dans le fait que le texte de loi sera efficace et qu’il est la seule approche possible », a ajouté le premier ministre.
    Ces arguments n’ont pas convaincu les élus de l’aile droite des Tories, qui dénoncent encore les possibles recours de migrants auprès de la Cour européenne des droits de l’homme (CEDH) et craignent que le partenariat Rwanda ne puisse toujours pas être mis en œuvre, malgré la promesse répétée des conservateurs de « stopper » les arrivées en small boats. Menés par l’ex-ministre de l’intérieur Suella Braverman, ces élus plaident depuis des mois pour un abandon de la CEDH par le Royaume-Uni, une option que M. Sunak a, jusqu’à présent, écartée. De fait, elle ferait probablement beaucoup de mal à la réputation du pays, le plaçant à côté d’Etats « parias », comme la Russie.
    Mercredi, Robert Jenrick, le secrétaire d’Etat à la migration, jusqu’à présent un allié de M. Sunak, a démissionné au motif que le projet de loi « Rwanda » ne serait pas assez radical, aggravant la crise interne au sein des Tories. Jeudi matin, son ex-collègue, Suella Braverman, a attisé les dissensions en mettant en garde M. Sunak contre un « effondrement » du parti aux prochaines élections générales si son projet de loi n’est pas efficace. Depuis plusieurs semaines, elle défie ouvertement l’autorité du premier ministre, après l’avoir qualifié de « faible » et l’avoir accusé de « trahison » sur les sujets migratoires. Beaucoup la soupçonnent de convoiter la tête du parti et de comploter pour le mettre en échec.
    Le premier ministre voudrait que le projet soit adopté le plus vite possible à Westminster, l’espoir étant de pouvoir envoyer des demandeurs d’asile vers le Rwanda au printemps, avant les élections générales. Mais les prochains votes sur le texte Rwanda à la Chambre des communes risquent de tourner aux votes de confiance sur sa capacité de M. Sunak à contrôler son parti. Le moment pour lui est d’autant plus dangereux que les élus tories n’ont plus grand-chose à perdre : le Parti conservateur accuse un retard d’au moins 20 points dans les sondages sur les travaillistes et aucune des tentatives de M. Sunak pour relancer son mandat - la conférence annuelle des Tories en octobre, un nouveau programme législatif et un nouveau budget en novembre…- n’a permis de renverser la tendance.

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#grandebretagne#rwanda#politiquemigratoire#asile#droit#CEDH

  • #Derman_Tamimou , décédé le 06.02.2019

    Cadavere di un migrante trovato sulla strada del Monginevro : voleva andare in Francia

    Un uomo di 29 anni proveniente dal Togo sepolto dalla neve.

    ll cadavere di un migrante di 29 anni, proveniente dal Togo, è stato ritrovato questa mattina in mezzo alla strada nazionale 94 del colle del Monginevro. Da quanto si apprende da fonti italiane, sul posto è presente la polizia francese. Le abbondanti nevicate degli scorsi giorni e il freddo intenso hanno complicato ulteriormente l’attraversamento della frontiera per i migranti. Si tratta del primo cadavere trovato quest’anno sul confine italo-francese dell’alta Val Susa dopo che l’anno scorso erano stati rinvenuti tre corpi (https://torino.repubblica.it/cronaca/2018/05/25/news/bardonecchia_il_corpo_di_un_migrante_affiora_tra_neve_e_detriti_su).

    https://torino.repubblica.it/cronaca/2019/02/07/news/cadavere_di_un_migrante_trovato_sulla_strada_del_monginevro_voleva
    #décès #mort #mourir_aux_frontières #Tamimou
    #frontière_sud-alpine #asile #migrations #réfugiés #morts_aux_frontières #Hautes-Alpes #mourir_aux_frontières #frontières #Italie #France #Briançonnais #Montgenèvre #La_Vachette

    –—

    ajouté au fil de discussion sur les morts à la frontière des Hautes-Alpes :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/800822

    lui-même ajouté à la métaliste sur les morts aux frontières alpines :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/758646

    • Retrouvé inanimé le long de la RN 94, le jeune migrant décède

      Un homme d’une vingtaine d’années a été découvert en arrêt cardio-respiratoire, cette nuit peu avant 3 heures du matin, sur la #RN_94, à #Val-des-Près. La police aux frontières, qui patrouillait à proximité, a vu un chauffeur routier arrêté en pleine voie, près de l’aire de chaînage. Celui-ci tentait de porter secours au jeune migrant, inanimé et en hypothermie. La victime a été prise en charge par les sapeurs-pompiers et un médecin du Samu. L’homme a ensuite été transporté à l’hôpital de Briançon, où il a été déclaré mort.

      Une enquête a été ouverte pour « homicide involontaire et mise en danger de la vie d’autrui ».


      https://www.ledauphine.com/hautes-alpes/2019/02/07/val-des-pres-un-jeune-migrant-decede-apres-avoir-ete-retrouve-inanime-le

    • Hautes-Alpes : un jeune migrant retrouvé mort au bord d’une route

      Il a été découvert près d’une aire de chaînage en #hypothermie et en arrêt cardio-respiratoire.

      Un migrant âgé d’une vingtaine d’années a été retrouvé mort dans la nuit de mercredi à ce jeudi dans les Hautes-Alpes au bord d’une route nationale reliant la frontière italienne à Briançon, a-t-on appris ce jeudi de source proche du dossier.

      Le jeune homme a été découvert inconscient jeudi vers 3h du matin par un chauffeur routier à Val-des-Près, une petite commune située à la sortie de Briançon. Il gisait près d’une aire de chaînage nichée en bordure de la RN94 qui mène à Montgenèvre, près de la frontière italienne.

      « Il n’a pas été renversé par un véhicule », a précisé une source proche du dossier, confirmant une information du Dauphiné Libéré.
      Hypothermie

      C’est une patrouille de la Police aux frontières (PAF) qui a prévenu les pompiers en découvrant le chauffeur routier tentant de porter secours à la victime.

      Souffrant d’hypothermie et en arrêt cardio-respiratoire, le jeune homme a été pris en charge par les pompiers et un médecin du Samu, mais leurs tentatives pour le réanimer ont été vaines. Il a été déclaré mort à son arrivée à l’hôpital de Briançon.

      Une enquête pour « homicide involontaire et mise en danger de la vie d’autrui » a été ouverte par le parquet de Gap. Elle a été confiée à la brigade de recherches de Briançon et à la gendarmerie de Saint Chaffrey. L’identité et la nationalité du jeune migrant n’ont pas été communiquées.
      « Nous craignons d’autres disparitions »

      En mai 2018, le parquet de Gap avait également ouvert une enquête pour identifier et connaître les circonstances du décès d’un jeune homme noir dont le corps avait été découvert par des promeneurs près de Montgenèvre.

      En décembre, plusieurs associations caritatives, qui dénoncent « l’insuffisance de prise en charge » des migrants qui tentent de franchir la frontière franco-italienne vers Briançon, avaient dit leur crainte de nouveaux morts cet hiver.

      « Plus de trente personnes ont dû être secourues depuis l’arrivée du froid, il y a un mois, et nous craignons des disparitions », avait affirmé l’association briançonnaise Tous Migrants dans un communiqué commun avec Amnesty, la Cimade, Médecins du monde, Médecins sans frontières, le Secours catholique et l’Anafé.

      http://www.leparisien.fr/faits-divers/hautes-alpes-un-jeune-migrant-retrouve-mort-au-bord-d-une-route-07-02-201

      Commentaire sur twitter :

      Le corps d’un jeune migrant mort de froid sur un bord de route retrouvé par la police aux frontières – celle-là même à laquelle il essayait d’échapper. Celle-là même dont la traque aux grands voyageurs accule ces derniers à risquer leur vie.

      https://twitter.com/OlivierCyran/status/1093565530324303872

      Deux des compagnons d’infortune de #Derman_Tamimou, décédé jeudi, se sont vu délivrer des OQTF après avoir témoigné à la BRI sur la difficulté à obtenir du secours cette nuit là.
      Ils nous ont raconté les secours qui n’arrivent pas, les tentatives pour arrêter les voitures , les appels à l’aide le temps qui passe une heure deux heures à attendre.

      https://twitter.com/nos_pas/status/1093978770837553154

    • Hautes-Alpes : l’autopsie du migrant découvert jeudi conclut à une probable mort par hypothermie

      L’autopsie du jeune migrant togolais, découvert inanimé dans la nuit de mercredi à jeudi sur le bord de la RN 94 à Val-des-Prés (Hautes-Alpes), a conclut "à l’absence de lésion traumatique externe et à une probable mort par hypothermie", selon le parquet de Gap. Le jeune homme âgé de 28 ans n’a pu atteindre Briançon, après avoir traversé la frontière entre la France et l’Italie à pied.

      Le procureur de la République de Gap a communiqué les conclusions de l’autopsie du jeune migrant de 28 ans, découvert ce jeudi 7 février le long de la route nationale 94 à Val-des-Prés, entre Montgenèvre et Briançon.
      Absence de lésion traumatique externe et à une probable mort par hypothermie

      "Dans le cadre de l’enquête recherchant les causes et les circonstances du décès du migrant décédé le 7 février 2019, une autopsie a été pratiquée ce jour par l’institut médico légal de Grenoble qui conclut à l’absence de lésion traumatique externe et à une probable mort par hypothermie", détaille Raphaël Balland, dans son communiqué.

      "Le parquet de Gap a levé l’obstacle médico légal et le corps a été rapatrié à Briançon, le temps de confirmer l’identité du défunt et de tenter de contacter des membres de sa famille", poursuit le magistrat de Gap.
      Découvert par un chauffeur routier vers 2 h 30 du matin

      Le corps du ressortissant togolais de 28 ans avait été repéré, jeudi, vers 2 h 30 du matin par un chauffeur routier italien qui circulait sur la RN94. Le jeune homme gisait inanimé sur un chemin forestier qui longe le torrent des Vallons, juste à côté de l’aire de chaînage de La Vachette, sur la commune de Val-des-Prés.

      “A compter de 2 h 10, les secours et les forces de l’ordre étaient informés de la présence d’un groupe de présumés migrants qui était en difficulté entre Clavière (Italie) et Briançon. Des policiers de la police aux frontières (PAF) partaient alors en patrouille pour tenter de les localiser et retrouvaient vers 3 heures à Val-des-Prés, au bord de la RN94, un homme de type africain inconscient auprès duquel s’était arrêté un chauffeur routier italien”, relatait hier Raphaël Balland.

      En arrêt cardio-respiratoire, inanimée, en hypothermie, la victime a été massée sur place. Mais les soins prodigués par le médecin du Samu et les sapeurs-pompiers n’ont pas permis de la ranimer. Le décès du jeune migrant a été officiellement constaté à 4 heures du matin ce jeudi au centre hospitalier des Escartons de Briançon, où il avait été transporté en ambulance.
      Parti avec un groupe de Clavière, en Italie

      "Les premiers éléments d’identification du jeune homme décédé permettent de s’orienter vers un Togolais âgé de 28 ans ayant précédemment résidé en Italie, détaillait encore Raphaël Balland hier soir. Selon des témoignages recueillis auprès d’autres migrants, il serait parti à pied de Clavière avec un groupe d’une dizaine d’hommes pour traverser la frontière pendant la nuit. Présentant des signes de grande fatigue, il était déposé auprès de la N94 par certains de ses compagnons de route qui semblent avoir été à l’origine de l’appel des secours."

      Une enquête a été ouverte pour "homicide involontaire et non-assistance à personne en péril" et confiée à la brigade de recherche de gendarmerie de Briançon, qui "poursuit ses investigations" selon le procureur.

      https://www.ledauphine.com/hautes-alpes/2019/02/08/hautes-alpes-briancon-val-des-pres-autopsie-migrant-decouvert-vendredi-p

      Commentaire de Nos montagnes ne deviendront pas un cimetière :

      Derman Tamimou n’est pas mort de froid il est mort de cette barbarie qui dresse des frontières , des murs infranchissables #ouvronslesfrontières l’autopsie du migrant découvert jeudi conclut à une probable mort par hypothermie

      https://twitter.com/nos_pas/status/1093976365404176385

    • Briançon : ils ont rendu hommage au jeune migrant décédé

      Il a été retrouvé mort au bord d’une route nationale, entre Montgenèvre et Briançon, dans la nuit de mercredi à jeudi. Pour que personne n’oublie le jeune migrant togolais, et afin de dénoncer la politique d’immigration, plusieurs associations et collectifs ont appelé à se réunir, ce samedi après-midi, au Champ de Mars, à Briançon.

      Plusieurs ONG nationales, Amnesty International, la Cimade, Médecins sans frontières, Médecins du monde, le Secours catholique, l’Association nationale d’assistance aux frontières pour les étrangers, ont voulu attirer l’attention sur ce nouveau drame.

      Avec des associations et collectifs locaux, Tous Migrants, Refuges solidaires, la paroisse de Briançon, la Mappemonde et la MJC, l’Association nationale des villes et territoires accueillants... tous se sont réunis au Champ de Mars ce samedi après-midi pour rappeler « qu’il est inacceptable qu’un jeune homme meure au bord de la route dans ces conditions », explique l’un des soutiens de Tous migrants.

      « Ce ne sont pas des pro ou anti-migrants, juste des personnes qui ont envie de protéger d’autres êtres humains »

      Dans la nuit de mercredi à jeudi, vers 2h30, un ressortissant togolais de 28 ans a été repéré par un chauffeur routier italien qui circulait sur la RN 94. La victime gisait inanimée, à côté de l’aire de chaînage de La Vachette, sur la commune de Val-des-Prés. Le décès a été officiellement constaté à 4 heures du matin au centre hospitalier des Escartons où il avait été transporté.


      https://www.ledauphine.com/hautes-alpes/2019/02/09/ils-ont-rendu-hommage-au-jeune-migrant-decede

      #hommage #commémoration

    • Cerca di varcare confine: giovane migrante muore assiderato tra l’Italia e la Francia

      L’immigrato, originario del Togo, aveva 29 anni: è morto assiderato sul colle Monginevro
      Il cadavere di un migrante di 29 anni è stato ritrovato questa mattina in mezzo alla strada nazionale N94 del colle del Monginevro (che collega Piemonte e Alta Savoia), mentre cercava di varcare il confine tra l’Italia e la Francia.

      L’extracomunitario, originario del Togo, è morto assiderato per la neve e le bassissime temperature.

      A notarlo, sepolto dalla neve ai margini della strada, intorno alle tre di note, sarebbe stato un camionista. La Procura ha aperto un fascicolo per «omicidio involontario».

      Le abbondanti nevicate dei giorni scorsi e il freddo rendono ancora più inaccessibili sentieri e stradine della zona e hanno complicato ulteriormente l’attraversamento della frontiera per i migranti.

      Da quanto si apprende da fonti italiane, sul posto è presente la polizia francese: si tratta del primo cadavere trovato quest’anno sul confine italo-francese dell’alta Val Susa dopo che l’anno scorso erano stati rinvenuti tre corpi nelle medesima località di frontiera, un passaggio molto battuto dai migranti.

      http://www.ilgiornale.it/news/cronache/cerca-varcare-confine-giovane-migrante-muore-assiderato-1641573.html

    • Man trying to enter France from Italy dies of hypothermia

      Death of Derman Tamimou from Togo comes as Matteo Salvini ramps up border row.

      French magistrates have opened an inquiry into “involuntary manslaughter” after a man trying to cross into France from Italy died of hypothermia.

      A lorry driver found Derman Tamimou on Thursday morning unconscious on the side of a highway that links Hautes-Alpes with the northern Italian region of Piedmont. Tamimou, 29, from Togo, was taken to hospital in Briançon, but it is unclear whether he died there or was already dead at the scene.

      “The second hypothesis is the most likely,” said Paolo Narcisi, president of the charity Rainbow for Africa. “He was probably among a group of 21 who left the evening before, despite all the warnings given to them by us and Red Cross volunteers about how dangerous the crossing is.”

      Tamimou was found between Briançon and Montgenèvre, an Alpine village about 6 miles from the border.

      Narcisi said his charity was working with colleagues in France to try and establish whether the rest of the group arrived safely. He said they most likely took a train to Oulx, one stop before the town of Bardonecchia, before travelling by bus to Claviere, the last Italian town before the border. From there, they began the mountain crossing into France.

      “Every night is the same … we warn people not to go as it’s very dangerous, especially in winter, the snow is high and it’s extremely cold,” Narcisi said.

      Tamimou is the first person known to have died while attempting the journey this winter. Three people died last year as they tried to reach France via the Col de l’Échelle mountain pass.

      The movement of people across the border has been causing conflict between Italy and France since early 2011.

      Matteo Salvini, the Italian interior minister, on Thursday accused France of sending more than 60,000 people, including women and children, back to Italy. He also accused French border police of holding up Italian trains with lengthy onboard immigration checks.

      Last year, seven Italian charities accused French border police of falsifying the birth dates of children travelling alone in an attempt to pass them off as adults and return them to Italy.

      While it is illegal to send back minors, France is not breaking the law by returning people whose first EU landing point was Italy.

      “Some of the returns are illegal, such as children or people who hold Italian permits,” said Narcisi. “But there are also those who are legally sent back due to the Dublin agreement. So there is little to protest about – we need to work to change the Dublin agreement instead of arguing.”

      https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/feb/08/man-dies-hypothermia-france-italy-derman-tamimou-togo

    • Message posté sur la page Facebook de Chez Jésus, 10.02.2019 :

      Un altro morto.
      Un’altra persona uccisa dalla frontiera e dai suoi sorvegliatori.
      Un altro cadavere, che va ad aggiungersi a quelli delle migliaia di persone che hanno perso la vita al largo delle coste italiane, sui treni tra Ventimiglia e Menton, sui sentieri fra le Alpi che conducono in Francia.

      Tamimou Derman, 28 anni, originario del Togo. Questo è tutto quello che sappiamo per ora del giovanissimo corpo trovato steso al lato della strada tra Claviere e Briancon. Tra Italia e Francia. È il quarto cadavere ritrovato tra queste montagne da quando la Francia ha chiuso le frontiere con l’Italia, nel 2015. Da quando la polizia passa al setaccio ogni pullman, ogni treno e ogni macchina alla ricerca sfrenata di stranieri. E quelli con una carnagione un po’ più scura, quelli con un accento un po’ diverso o uno zaino che sembra da viaggiatore, vengono fatti scendere, e controllati. Se non hai quel pezzo di carta considerato «valido», vieni rimandato in Italia. Spesso dopo minacce, maltrattamenti o furti da parte della polizia di frontiera.

      Giovedì è stato trovato un altro morto. Un’altra persona uccisa dal controllo frontaliero, un’altra vita spezzata da quelle divise che pattugliano questa linea tracciata su una mappa chiamata frontiera, e dai politicanti schifosi che la vogliono protetta.
      Un omicidio di stato, l’ennesimo.
      Perché non è la neve, il freddo o la fatica a uccidere le persone tra queste montagne. I colpevoli sono ben altri. Sono gli sbirri, che ogni giorno cercano di impedire a decine di persone di perseguire il viaggio per autodeterminarsi la loro vita. Sono gli stati, e i loro governi, che di fatto sono i veri mandanti e i reali motivi dell’esistenza stessa dei confini.

      Un altro cadavere. Il quarto, dopo blessing, mamadu e un altro ragazzo mai identificato.
      Rabbia e dolore si mischiano all’odio. Dolore per un altro morto, per un’altra fine ingiusta. Rabbia e odio per coloro che sono le vere cause di questa morte: le frontiere, le varie polizie nazionali che le proteggono, e gli stati e i politici che le creano.
      Contro tutti gli stati, contro tutti i confini, per la libertà di tutti e tutte di scegliere su che pezzo di terra vivere!

      Abbattiamo le frontiere, organizziamoci insieme!

      Un autre mort. Une autre personne tuée par la frontière et ses gardes. Un autre cadavre, qui s’ajoute aux milliers de personnes mortes au large des côtes italiennes, sous des trains entre Vintimille et Menton, sur les chemins alpins qui mènent en France.
      Derman Tamimou, 28 ans, originaire du Togo. C’est tout ce qu’on sait pour le moment du très jeune corps retrouvé allongé sur le bord de la route vers Briançon entre l’Italie et la France. C’est le 4e corps trouvé dans cette vallée depuis que la France a fermé ses frontières avec l’Italie en 2015. Depuis que la police contrôle chaque bus, chaque train, chaque voiture, à la recherche acharnée d’étrangers. Et celleux qui ont la peau plus foncée, celleux qui ont un accent un peu différent, ou se trimballent un sac à dos de voyage, on les fait descendre et on les contrôle. Si tu n’as pas les papiers qu’ils considèrent valides, tu es ramené directement en Italie. Souvent, tu es victime de menaces et de vols de la part de la PAF (police aux frontières).
      Le 7 février 2019, un corps a été retrouvé. Une autre personne tuée par le contrôle frontalier. Une autre vie brisée par ces uniformes qui patrouillent autour d’une ligne tracée sur une carte, appelée frontière. Tuée par des politiciens dégueulasses qui veulent protéger cette frontière. Encore un homicide d’État. Parce que ce n’est pas la neige, ni le froid, ni la fatigue qui a tué des personnes dans ces montagnes. Les coupables sont tout autres. Ce sont les flics, qui essaient tous les jours d’empêcher des dizaines de personnes de poursuivre leur voyage pour l’autodétermination de leur vie.
      Ce sont les États et leurs gouvernements qui sont les vrais responsables et les vraies raisons de l’existence même des frontières. Un autre corps, le quatrième après Blessing, Mamadou, et Ibrahim. Rage et douleur se mêlent à la haine. Douleur pour une autre mort, pour une autre fin injuste. Rage et haine envers les véritables coupables de cette mort : les frontières, les différentes polices nationales qui les protègent, les États et les politiques qui les créent.
      Contre tous les États, contre toutes les frontières, pour la liberté de toutes et tous de choisir sur quel bout de terre vivre.
      Abattons les frontières, organisons-nous ensemble !


      https://www.facebook.com/362786637540072/photos/a.362811254204277/541605972991470

    • Immigration. Dans les Hautes-Alpes, la chasse aux étrangers fait un mort

      Une enquête a été ouverte après le décès, jeudi, à proximité de Briançon, d’un jeune exilé qui venait de franchir la frontière franco-italienne. Les associations accusent les politiques ultrarépressives de l’État.

      « C ’est la parfaite illustration d’une politique qu’on dénonce depuis deux ans ! » Michel Rousseau, membre du collectif Tous migrants dans les Hautes-Alpes, ne décolère pas depuis l’annonce, jeudi matin, de la mort de Taminou, un exilé africain, à moins de 10 kilomètres de la frontière franco-italienne. Le quatrième en moins de neuf mois... Découvert vers 3 heures du matin, sur une zone de chaînage de la route nationale reliant Briançon à Montgenèvre, le jeune homme aurait succombé au froid, après avoir tenté de passer la frontière. Évitant les patrouilles de police, il aurait pendant plusieurs heures arpenté les montagnes enneigées, avant d’y perdre ses bottes et de continuer en chaussettes.

      « Les premiers éléments d’identification (...) permettent de s’orienter vers un Togolais âgé de 28 ans ayant précédemment résidé en Italie, indique la préfecture dans un communiqué. Il serait parti à pied de Clavières avec un groupe de plus d’une dizaine d’hommes pour traverser la frontière nuitamment. Présentant des signes de grande fatigue, il aurait été déposé auprès de la RN94 par certains de ses compagnons de route qui semblent avoir été à l’origine de l’appel des secours. »

      Une politique ultrarépressive à l’égard des citoyens solidaires

      Postés au milieu de la route, les amis de Taminou auraient tenté de stopper plusieurs voitures, sans qu’aucune s’arrête. Une patrouille de la police aux frontières serait arrivée sur le lieu du drame, deux heures après le premier appel au secours, y trouvant un camionneur en train de venir en aide au malheureux frappé d’hypothermie et en arrêt cardio-respiratoire. Pris en charge par le Samu, le jeune homme a finalement été déclaré mort à son arrivée à l’hôpital de Briançon.

      Une enquête pour non-assistance à personne en danger et pour homicide involontaire a été ouverte par le parquet de Gap. « Les conducteurs des véhicules qui ne se sont pas arrêtés ne doivent pas dormir tranquille », acquiesce Michel, s’inquiétant cependant de savoir qui sera réellement visé par les investigations de la police. « La préfecture pointe régulièrement les maraudeurs solidaires qui tentent de venir en aide aux exilés égarés dans nos montagnes, explique-t-il. À l’image des accusations portées contre les bateaux de sauveteurs en mer, en Méditerranée, on les rend responsables d’un soi-disant appel d’air. »

      En réalité, c’est suite au bouclage de la frontière à Menton et dans la vallée de la Roya que, depuis deux ans, cette route migratoire est de plus en plus empruntée. L’État y mène aujourd’hui une politique ultrarépressive à l’égard des citoyens solidaires et des exilés. En moins d’un an, dans le Briançonnais, 11 personnes ont été condamnées pour délit de solidarité, dont 9 à des peines de prison, et des violations régulières des droits des étrangers y sont régulièrement dénoncées par les associations. Plusieurs d’entre elles, dont Amnesty International, Médecins du monde et la Cimade, ont réuni, samedi, près de 200 personnes sur le champ de Mars de Briançon pour rendre hommage à Taminou, malgré l’interdiction de manifester émise par la préfecture au prétexte de l’ouverture de la saison hivernale.

      Pour elles, c’est au contraire la chasse aux exilés et à leurs soutiens qu’il faut pointer, « les renvois systématiques en Italie au mépris du droit, les courses-poursuites, les refus de prise en charge, y compris des plus vulnérables : ces pratiques qui poussent les personnes migrantes à prendre toujours plus de risques, comme celui de traverser des sentiers enneigés, de nuit, en altitude, par des températures négatives, sans matériel adéquat », accusent les associations.

      Ce mercredi soir, justement, la présence policière était particulièrement importante dans la zone. « Ce drame aurait pu être évité, s’indigne un habitant, qui préfère conserver l’anonymat. Les maraudeurs solidaires étaient sur le terrain. Ils ont vu passer toutes ces personnes et, s’ils ne les ont pas récupérées, c’est soit parce qu’ils se savaient surveillés par la PAF, qui les aurait interpellés, soit parce que les exilés eux-mêmes en ont eu peur, les prenant pour des policiers en civil. » Espérons que l’enquête pointera les véritables responsables de la mort de Taminou.

      https://www.humanite.fr/immigration-dans-les-hautes-alpes-la-chasse-aux-etrangers-fait-un-mort-6677

    • Derman Tamimou e il tema di una bambina di nove anni

      “Le persone che ho visto, tra i migranti, mi sembravano persone uguali a noi, non capisco perchè tutti pensano che siano diverse da noi. Secondo me aiutare le persone, in questo caso i migranti, è una cosa bella”.

      Derman Tamimou aveva 29 anni, era arrivato in Italia dal Togo e, nella notte tra il 6 e il 7 febbraio, ha intrapreso il suo ultimo viaggio nel tentativo di varcare il confine. Un camionista ne ha scorto il corpo semiassiderato e rannicchiato tra la neve ai bordi della statale del colle di Monginevro. Nonostante l’immediato trasporto all’ospedale di Briancon, Derman è morto poco dopo.

      E’ difficile immaginare cosa abbia pensato e provato Derman negli ultimi istanti della sua vita, prima di perdere conoscenza per il gelo invernale. Quali sogni, speranze, ricordi, … quanta fatica, rabbia, paura …

      Potrebbe essere tranquillizzante pensare a questa morte come tragica fatalità e derubricarla a freddo numero da aggiungere alla lista di migranti morti nella ricerca di un futuro migliore in Europa. Eppure quell’interminabile lista parla a ognuno di noi. Racconta di vite interrotte che, anche quando non se ne conosce il nome, ci richiamano a una comune umanità da cui non possiamo prescindere per non smarrire noi stessi. A volte lo ricordiamo quando scopriamo, cucita nel giubbotto di un quattordicenne partito dal Mali e affogato in un tragico naufragio nel 2015, una pagella, un bene prezioso con cui presentarsi ai nuovi compagni di classe e di vita. Altre volte lo ricordano i versi di una poesia “Non ti allarmare fratello mio”, ritrovata nelle tasche di Tesfalidet Tesfon, un giovane migrante eritreo, morto subito dopo il suo sbarco a Pozzallo, nel 2018, a seguito delle sofferenze patite nelle carceri libiche e delle fatiche del viaggio: “È davvero così bello vivere da soli, se dimentichi tuo fratello al momento del bisogno?”. È davvero così bello?

      L’estate scorsa, lungo la strada in cui ha perso la vita Derman Tamimou, si poteva ancora trovare un ultimo luogo di soccorso e sostegno per chi cercava di attraversare il confine. Un rifugio autogestito che è stato sgomberato in autunno, con l’approssimarsi dell’inverno, senza alcuna alternativa di soccorso locale per i migranti. Per chiunque fosse passato da quei luoghi non era difficile prevedere i rischi che questa chiusura avrebbe comportato. Bastava fermarsi, incontrare e ascoltare i migranti, i volontari e tutte le persone che cercavano di portare aiuto e solidarietà, nella convinzione che non voltare lo sguardo di fronte a sofferenze, rischi e fatiche altrui sia l’unica strada per restare umani.

      Incontri che una bambina di nove anni, in quelle che avrebbe voluto fossero le sue “Montagne solidali”, ha voluto raccontare così: “Oggi da Bardonecchia, dove in stazione c’è un posto in cui aiutano i migranti che cercano di andare in Francia, siamo andati in altri due posti dove ci sono i migranti che si fermano e ricevono aiuto nel loro viaggio, uno a Claviere e uno a Briancon. In questi posti ci sono persone che li accolgono, gli danno da mangiare, un posto dove dormire, dei vestiti per ripararsi dal freddo, danno loro dei consigli su come evitare pericoli e non rischiare la loro vita nel difficile percorso di attraversamento del confine tra Italia e Francia tra i boschi e le montagne. I migranti, infatti, di notte cercano di attraversare i boschi e questo è difficile e pericoloso, perchè possono farsi male o rischiare la loro vita cadendo da un dirupo. I migranti scelgono di affrontare il loro viaggio di notte perchè è più difficile che la polizia li veda e li faccia tornare indietro. A volte, per sfuggire alla polizia si feriscono per nascondersi o scappare. Nel centro dove sono stata a Claviere, alcuni migranti avevano delle ferite, al volto e sulle gambe, causate durante i tentativi di traversata. Infatti i migranti provano tante volte ad attraversare le montagne, di solito solo dopo la quarta o quinta volta riescono a passare. La traversata è sempre molto pericolosa, perchè non conoscono le montagne e le strade da percorrere, ma soprattutto in inverno le cose sono più difficili perchè con la neve, il freddo, senza i giusti vestiti e scarpe, del cibo caldo e non conoscendo la strada tutto è più rischioso. Lo scorso inverno, sul Colle della Scala, sono morte diverse persone provando a fare questo viaggio. Anche le persone che li aiutano sono a rischio, perchè solo per aver dato loro da mangiare, da dormire e dei vestiti possono essere denunciate e arrestate. Oggi sette ragazzi sono in carcere per questo. Io penso che non è giusto essere arrestati quando si aiutano le persone. A Briancon, dove aiutano i migranti che hanno appena attraversato il confine, ho visto alcuni bambini e questa cosa mi ha colpito molto perchè vuol dire che sono riusciti a fare un viaggio così lungo e faticoso attraverso i boschi e le montagne. Qui ho conosciuto la signora Annie, una volontaria che aiuta i migranti appena arrivati in Francia, una signora gentile e molto forte, che è stata chiamata 8 volte ad andare dalla polizia per l’aiuto che sta dando ai migranti, ma lei sorride e continua a farlo, perchè pensa che non aiutarli sia un’ingiustizia. Le persone che ho visto, tra i migranti, mi sembravano persone uguali a noi, non capisco perchè tutti pensano che siano diverse da noi. Secondo me aiutare le persone, in questo caso i migranti, è una cosa bella”.

      http://www.vita.it/it/article/2019/02/10/derman-tamimou-e-il-tema-di-una-bambina-di-nove-anni/150635

    • Reportage. In Togo a casa di #Tamimou, il migrante morto di freddo sulle Alpi

      Da Agadez alla Libia, poi l’attesa in Italia. Il papà: «Non aveva i soldi per far curare la madre». Le ultime parole su Whatsapp: «Ho comprato il biglietto del treno e partirò domani per la Francia»

      Il villaggio di #Madjaton si trova tra le verdi colline di Kpalimé, una tranquilla città nel sud-ovest del Togo. Un luogo dalla natura lussureggiante e il terreno fertile. È qui che è cresciuto Tamimou Derman, il migrante deceduto per il freddo il 7 febbraio mentre cercava di superare a piedi il confine tra l’Italia e la Francia. La sua famiglia è composta da padre, madre, tre fratelli, e una sorella. Sono tutti seduti all’ombra di un grande albero in attesa di visite e notizie.

      «Salam aleikum, la pace sia con voi» dicono con un sorriso all’arrivo di ogni persona che passa a trovarli per le condoglianze. L’accoglienza è calorosa nonostante la triste atmosfera. «È stato un nostro parente che vive in Libia a darci per primo la notizia», dice Samoudini, il fratello maggiore di 35 anni. «All’inizio non potevamo crederci, ci aveva spedito un messaggio vocale due giorni prima della partenza per la Francia. Poi le voci si sono fatte sempre più insistenti – continua Samoudini – e le speranze sono piano piano svanite. Ora il nostro problema principale è trovare i soldi per far ritornare la salma».

      Tamimou è la prima vittima dell’anno tra chi, come molti altri migranti africani, ha tentato di raggiungere la Francia dall’Italia attraverso le Alpi. Il giovane togolese era partito con un gruppo di altri venti ragazzi. Speravano di eludere gli agenti di polizia che pattugliano una zona sempre più militarizzata. «Diciamo a tutti i migranti di non incamminarsi per quei valichi in questa stagione – ha spiegato alla stampa Paolo Narcisi, medico e presidente della Onlus torinese, Rainbow for Africa – . È un passaggio troppo rischioso».

      Prima di avventurarsi tra la neve e il gelo, Tamimou aveva appunto lasciato un messaggio alla famiglia. «Ho comprato il biglietto del treno e partirò domani per la Francia – si sente in un audio whatsapp di circa un minuto –. Pregate per me e se Dio vorrà ci parleremo dal territorio francese». Il padre e un amico, uno accanto all’altro, scoppiano a piangere. La mamma, seduta tra il gruppo delle donne, resta immobile con gli occhi rossi. La sorella pone invece il capo tra le ginocchia ed emette un leggero singhiozzo. Per alcuni secondi restiamo in un silenzio profondo, interrotto solamente dalle voci dei bambini del villaggio che rincorrono cani e galline. Ascoltare la voce di Tamimou riporta la famiglia al momento in cui è giunta la notizia del suo decesso, l’8 febbraio.


      «Non volevamo che partisse per l’Europa», riprende Inoussa Derman, il papà, cercando di trattenere le lacrime. «Lui però era determinato. Si sentiva responsabile per le condizioni di salute di mia moglie che, tuttora – racconta il genitore – soffre di ipertensione e per diverso tempo è stata ricoverata in ospedale. Non avevamo i soldi per pagare le cure». La madre, Issaka, fissa il terreno senza parlare. Sembra avvertire il peso di una responsabilità legata alla partenza del figlio. Tamimou si era dato da fare subito dopo la scuola. Aveva lavorato a Kpalimé come muratore prima di trasferirsi in Ghana per due anni e continuare il mestiere. Non riuscendo a guadagnare abbastanza, aveva deciso di partire per l’Europa nel 2015. Con i suoi risparmi e un po’ di soldi chiesti a diversi conoscenti, ha raggiunto la città nigerina di Agadez, da decenni importante crocevia della rotta migratoria proveniente da tutta l’Africa occidentale e centrale. Dopo qualche mese il ragazzo ha contattato la famiglia dalla Libia. «Ci diceva quanto era pericoloso a causa dei continui spari e degli arresti indiscriminati – aggiunge Moussara, la sorella di 33 anni –. Gli abbiamo detto più volte di tornare, ma non ci ha voluto ascoltare».

      Tamimou ha trascorso almeno 18 mesi in Libia in attesa di trovare i soldi per continuare il viaggio.

      «Ci sentivamo spesso anche quando ha oltrepassato il ’grande fiume’ per arrivare in Italia – racconta Satade, un amico d’infanzia, in riferimento al Mar Mediterraneo –. Con i nostri ex compagni di scuola avevamo infatti creato un gruppo su whatsapp per rimanere in contatto con lui».

      Dopo più di 16 mesi in Italia, il migrante togolese raccontava alla famiglia di essere ancora disoccupato. «Non ho trovato niente – spiegava in un altro messaggio vocale –. In Italia ci vogliono i documenti per lavorare e io non riesco a ottenerli». La decisione di partire per la Francia era stata presa con grande sofferenza. Diversi amici avevano assicurato al migrante togolese che al di là del confine sarebbe stato molto più facile trovare un impiego. Ma di Tamimou, in Francia, è arrivato solo il cadavere. Da giorni è ospitato all’obitorio dell’ospedale di Briançon. La famiglia è in contatto con un cugino che vive da diversi anni in Italia e sta seguendo le pratiche. Parenti e amici vogliono riportare il corpo di Tamimou nel caldo di Madjaton, a casa, per seppellirlo secondo le usanze tradizionali. «Gli avevamo detto di non partire – insiste il padre –. Ma non si può fermare la determinazione di un giovane sognatore».

      https://www.avvenire.it/attualita/pagine/in-togo-a-casa-di-tamimou-migrante-morto-freddo-alpi
      #ceux_qui_restent

    • Notre frontière tue : Tamimou Derman n’est plus — Récit d’une #maraude solidaire

      Chaque nuit, des exilé·e·s tentent d’arriver en France par le col de Montgenèvre malgré le froid, la neige et l’omniprésence de la Police. En dépit des maraudes spontanées des habitant·e·s, certain·e·s y perdent la vie. Comme Tamimou Derman, retrouvé mort d’hypothermie la nuit du 6 au 7 février 2019. Cette semaine-là, une vingtaine de membres de la FSGT ont maraudé avec les locaux. Récit.

      D’un mélèze à l’autre, quatre ombres noires glissent sur la neige blanche. Au cœur de la nuit, les ombres sont discrètes, elles marchent sans bruit. Elles traversent les pistes de ski et s’enfoncent vers les profondeurs de la forêt, malgré les pieds glacés, les mains froides et les nuages de leurs souffles courts.

      Les ombres sont craintives comme des proies qui se savent épiées : elles nous fuient.

      Nous les poursuivons sans courir, pour ne pas les effrayer davantage. Nous lançons plusieurs cris sur leur trace, et nous réussissons finalement à les rattraper. Leurs mains sont de glace : nous les serrons et nous disons aux ombres qu’elles ne craignent rien, que nous voulons les sortir du froid et de la neige, que nous sommes là pour les aider.

      Les quatre ombres deviennent des hommes encore pétris de crainte. Leurs yeux hagards demandent : "Êtes-vous la Police ?". Malgré la peur, les ombres devenues hommes montent dans notre voiture. Nous dévalons la route qui serpente entre les montagnes. Les quatre hommes sont saufs.

      Je me réveille en sursaut : ce n’était qu’un rêve.

      Parce qu’hier soir, les quatre ombres se sont enfoncées dans la forêt. Parce qu’hier soir, nous n’avons pas pu les rattraper. Parce qu’hier soir, nous n’avons pas su les rattraper. Parce qu’hier soir, les quatre ombres ont cru voir en nous des officiers de Police venus pour les arrêter.

      Quelques heures après ce réveil agité, la nouvelle tombe.

      Cette nuit, une ombre est morte.

      De la neige jusqu’aux hanches, l’ombre a senti ses frêles bottes se faire aspirer par l’eau glacée. Ses chaussures noyées au fond de la poudreuse, disparues. En chaussettes, l’ombre a continué à marcher entre les mélèzes. L’ombre n’avait pas le luxe de choisir. Épuisée, gelée jusqu’aux os, l’ombre a perdu connaissance. Ses frères de l’ombre l’ont portée jusqu’à la route pour tenter de la sauver, quitte à se faire attraper par la Police. Ils ont appelé les secours.

      L’ambulance est arrivée près de deux heures plus tard.

      L’ombre a été retrouvée sur un chemin forestier, au bord de la route nationale 94, reliant la frontière italienne et la ville de Briançon. L’autopsie confirmera ce que ses frères savaient déjà : décès par hypothermie.

      L’ombre avait dit au revoir à sa famille, puis elle avait peut-être traversé le désert. Elle avait peut-être échappé aux geôles libyennes, aux tortures et aux trafics en tout genre. L’ombre s’était peut-être fait voler ses maigres économies par des passeurs. L’ombre avait peut-être bravé les tempêtes de la Méditerranée entassée avec cent autres ombres sur un canot pneumatique. Et tant d’autres mésaventures.

      L’ombre avait jusque-là échappé aux polices européennes qui la traquaient uniquement parce que ce que l’ombre voulait, c’était arrêter d’être une ombre.

      L’ombre avait traversé la moitié du globe mais son chemin s’est arrêté en France, à quelques kilomètres de la frontière, parce que l’ombre a eu peur de la Police française.

      L’ombre, c’était Tamimou Derman. Tamimou Derman avait notre âge. Tamimou Derman n’était qu’un homme qui rêvait d’une vie meilleure.

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      -- Contexte —

      Dans la nuit du mercredi 6 au jeudi 7 février 2019, j’ai participé à une maraude solidaire dans la station de ski de Montgenèvre avec des amis de la FSGT (Fédération Sportive et Gymnique du Travail), dans le cadre d’un séjour organisé et patronné par cette fédération.

      Ce séjour annuel se concentre habituellement sur les seules activités de loisir de montagne. Cette année, il a été décidé d’organiser cette sortie dans la région de Briançon, à quelques kilomètres de la frontière franco-italienne, afin de montrer notre solidarité envers les locaux qui portent assistance aux personnes qui arrivent en France, au niveau du col de Montgenèvre, situé à 1800m d’altitude.

      Chaque soir, quelques uns et quelques unes de la vingtaine de participants à ce séjour partaient en maraude pour accompagner les gens de la vallée qui eux, toute l’année, sauvent des vies là-haut. La loi ne peut nous considérer comme des passeurs : nous n’avons fait passer la frontière à personne. Nous étions uniquement là pour porter assistance aux personnes en danger de mort sur le territoire français. S’il fallait encore une preuve, Tamimou Derman est mort d’hypothermie, la nuit où j’ai maraudé.

      Bien que légales, ces maraudes semblent être considérées de facto comme illégale par les forces de l’ordre : elles tentent de les entraver par tous les moyens, surtout par l’intimidation. C’est aussi pour cela que j’ai voulu partager ce récit.

      -- #Chasse_à_l'homme

      Dès que les pistes de ski de Montgenèvre ferment, que le soleil se couche et que les vacanciers se reposent, un obscur jeu du chat et de la souris se noue sous les fenêtres de leurs résidences. Une véritable chasse à l’homme.

      Tous les soirs ou presque, des hommes et des femmes tentent de gagner notre pays depuis le village italien de Clavière. À 500 mètres à peine de ce village, de l’autre côté de la frontière, la rutilante station de ski de Montgenèvre. Pour parcourir cette distance ridicule, ils mettent plus de trois heures. Parce qu’ils passent par la forêt, traversent des torrents glacés, parce qu’ils marchent dans le froid et la neige. Enfin, ils tentent enfin de se fondre dans les ombres de Montgenèvre avant d’entamer les 10 kilomètres de chemins enneigés qui les séparent de Briançon.

      « Des témoignages parlent de poursuites en motoneige, en pleine nuit »

      Côté français, par tous les moyens ou presque, la police et la gendarmerie les guettent pour les arrêter : des témoignages parlent de poursuites en motoneige, en pleine nuit, forçant ces hommes et ces femmes à fuir pour tenter se cacher par tous les moyens au risque de tomber dans des réserves d’eau glacées ou des précipices. Des récits parlent de séquestration dans des containers sans eau, ni nourriture, ni chauffage, ni toilettes, ni rien ; tout ça pour les renvoyer quelques heures plus tard en Italie, encore congelés. D’autres attestent que la police et la gendarmerie bafouent les droits élémentaires de la demande d’asile. Toujours d’après des témoignages, la police et la gendarmerie se déguiseraient en civils pour mieux amadouer et alpaguer celles et ceux qui tentent la traversée. À plusieurs reprises, la police et la gendarmerie auraient été aidées par les nazillons du groupuscule fachiste "Génération Identitaire" qui patrouillent eux aussi dans les montagnes. Certains de ceux qui tenteraient le passage se seraient vus déchirer leurs papiers d’identité attestant leur minorité par la police et la gendarmerie, et donc se voir déchirer le devoir qu’a la France de les protéger. Et bien d’autres infamies.

      Tous les soirs ou presque, enfin, des habitants de la région de Briançon sont là pour essayer de secourir ces personnes qui tentent de passer la frontière, même quand il fait -20°c, même quand il neige, même quand la police est en ébullition, partout dans la ville.

      Sur place, impossible de ne pas entendre l’écho de l’histoire des Justes dans le vent glacial.

      -- Ce que j’ai vu —

      Dans la nuit du mercredi 6 au jeudi 7 février, il faisait environ -10°c à Montgenèvre. Plus d’un mètre de neige fraiche recouvrait la forêt. Une vingtaine de personne étaient a priori descendues d’un bus, côté Italien de la frontière. Supposément pour tenter la traversée. Mes compagnons maraudeurs et moi-même attendions dans Montgenèvre, pour essayer d’aller à la rencontre d’un maximum d’entre eux.

      À l’aide de jumelles, des maraudeurs ont alors vu une quinzaine d’ombres se faufiler entre les arbres qui bordent les pistes de ski. Quatre d’entre eux ont été accueillis de justesse par deux maraudeurs.

      Cela faisait vraisemblablement trois heures qu’ils marchaient dans la neige. Ils n’étaient clairement pas équipés pour ces conditions. L’un des quatre avait un centimètre de glace sur chaque main et les pieds congelés. Il était tombé dans un torrent qui avait emporté le reste de ses affaires.
      Les deux maraudeurs lui ont donné des chaussettes de rechange, des gants, du thé chaud et à manger.

      Les maraudeurs racontent qu’à ce moment-là, alors qu’ils les avaient hydraté, réchauffé, nourri et donné des vêtements chauds, les quatre hommes pensaient encore s’être fait attrapés par la police. La peur irradiait le fond de leurs yeux.

      « Nous leur avons crié que nous n’étions pas la Police, que nous étions là pour les aider »

      Précisément à cet instant-là, j’étais ailleurs dans Montgenèvre, avec d’autres maraudeurs. Avec nos jumelles, nous avons vu quatre autres ombres se faufiler entre les mélèzes et traverser les pistes de ski discrètement. Nous savions qu’ils craignaient de se faire attraper par la Police. La nuit, ici, n’importe quel groupe de personnes ressemble à une patrouille de policiers.

      Nous avons décidé de les attendre, un peu dans la lumière, en espérant qu’ils nous voient et qu’ils ne prennent pas peur. Derrière nous, à travers les fenêtres éclairées des résidences, nous voyions les vacanciers regarder la télévision, manger leur repas. C’était surréaliste. Nous avions peur, sans doute moins qu’eux qui marchaient depuis des heures, mais nous aussi nous avions peur de la Police.

      Nous avons choisi de ne pas les aborder de loin, pour éviter qu’ils ne nous prenne pour des flics et qu’ils s’enfuient. Est-ce la bonne solution ? Qu’est-ce qui est le mieux à faire ? Vont-ils courir ? Une dizaine de questions d’angoisse nous frappaient.

      Nous avons attendu qu’ils arrivent non loin de nous. Ils ne nous avaient pas vu. Nous avons attendu trop longtemps.

      Nous avons finalement avancé en leur criant (mais pas trop fort, pour ne pas alerter tout le voisinage — et les forces de l’ordre) que nous n’étions pas la Police, que nous étions là pour les aider, que nous avions du thé chaud et de quoi manger. Les trois premiers n’ont même pas tourné la tête, ils ont accéléré. Nous leur avons crié les mêmes choses. Le dernier de la file s’est retourné, tout en continuant de marcher très vite, et il nous a semblé l’entendre demander : "Quoi ? Qu’est-ce que vous dites ?" Nous avons répété ce qu’on leur avait déjà dit. Mais il était tiraillé entre ses amis qui ne se retournaient pas et notre proposition. Si tant est qu’il l’ait entendue, notre proposition, avec le bruit de la neige qui couvrait très probablement nos voix. Il a préféré suivre ses amis, ils se sont enfoncés dans la forêt en direction de Briançon et nous n’avons pas pu ni su les rattraper.

      Un sentiment d’horreur nous prend. Nous imaginons déjà la suite. Je me sens pire qu’inutile, méprisable.

      Malgré mes deux paires de chaussettes, mes collants, pantalon de ski, t-shirt technique, polaire, doudoune, énorme manteau, gants, bonnet, grosses chaussures, un frisson glacial m’a parcouru le corps. Eux marchaient depuis plus de trois heures.

      « J’étais là pour éviter qu’ils crèvent de froid »

      Nous ne pouvions plus les rejoindre : nous devions rapidement descendre les quatre que les autres maraudeurs avaient commencé réconforter. Nous sommes retournés à notre voiture, le cœur prêt à exploser, des "putain", des "c’est horrible" et d’autres jurons incompréhensibles qui sortait en torrents continus de notre bouche. Mais il fallait agir vite.

      B. et C. sont montés dans la voiture que nous conduisions et nous les avons amenés à Briançon via la seule et unique route qui serpente entre les montagnes. Je n’ai jamais autant souhaité ne pas croiser la Police.

      B. et C. n’ont pas beaucoup parlé, je ne leur ai pas non plus posé beaucoup de question. Que dire, que demander ?

      Quand j’ai raconté cette histoire à d’autres, on m’a demandé : "Ils venaient d’où ?" "Pourquoi ils voulaient venir en France ?" Dans cette situation, ces questions me semblaient plus qu’absurdes : elles étaient obscènes. J’étais là pour éviter qu’ils crèvent de froid et je n’avais pas à leur demander quoi que ce soit, à part s’ils voulaient que je monte le chauffage et les rassurer en leur disant qu’on arrivait en lieu sûr d’ici peu.

      Sur cette même route, un autre soir de la semaine, d’autres maraudeurs ont eux aussi transporté des personnes qui avaient traversé la frontière. Persuadés de s’être fait attraper par la Police, résignés, ces hommes d’une vingtaine d’années ont pleuré durant les 25 minutes du trajet.

      « Les ombres avaient toutes été avalées par la noirceur de la montagne blanche »

      Nous avons déposé les quatre au Refuge Solidaire, dans Briançon. Un lieu géré par des locaux et des gens de passage qui permet aux personnes qui ont traversé de se reposer quelques jours avant de continuer leur route. En arrivant, C. a cru faire un infarctus : c’était finalement une violente crise d’angoisse, une décompensation.

      À peine quelques minutes plus tard, nous sommes repartis vers Montgenèvre pour essayer de retrouver la dizaine d’autres ombres qui étaient encore dans la montagne et que nous n’avions pas vu passer. Alors qu’avant, nous n’avions pas vu un seul signe de la Police, une ou deux voitures tournait constamment dans la station. Vers minuit ou une heure du matin, nous nous sommes rendus à l’évidence : nous n’en verrons plus, cette nuit-là. Les ombres avaient toutes été avalées par la noirceur de la montagne blanche. Frustration indicible. Sentiment de ne pas avoir fait tout ce qu’on pouvait.

      Nous sommes repartis vers Briançon. Nous sommes passés juste à côté de l’endroit où Tamimou Derman était en train d’agoniser, mais nous ne le savions alors pas. À quelques minutes près, nous aurions pu le voir, l’amener aux urgences et peut-être le sauver.

      « La nuit du mercredi 6 au jeudi 7 février 2019, une vingtaine de personnes auraient tenté de traverser la frontière franco-italienne »

      En partant de Montgenèvre, une voiture était arrêtée avec les pleins phares allumés, en plein milieu de la petite route de montagne. Nous avons presque dû nous arrêter pour passer à côté. C’était la Police qui surveillait les voitures qui descendaient vers Briançon. Nous sommes passés, notre voiture s’est faite ausculter à la recherche de "migrants".

      Les "migrants", ils étaient dans la montagne, de la neige jusqu’aux hanches et en chaussettes, en train de mourir pour éviter précisément ce contrôle.

      La nuit du mercredi 6 au jeudi 7 février 2019, une vingtaine de personnes auraient tenté de traverser la frontière franco-italienne. Nous en avons accompagné quatre à Briançon. Quatre autres ont eu peur de nous, pensant que nous étions la Police. Ils seraient a priori bel bien arrivé au Refuge Solidaire, à pied. D’autres ont été interceptés par la police et renvoyés en Italie, à l’exception de deux jeunes mineurs confiés au Département. Tamimou Derman, lui, a été retrouvé sur le bord de la route, mort d’hypothermie.

      Le 15 mars prochain, une maraude géante est organisé à Montgenèvre. Pour médiatiser ce qui se passe là-bas. Pour que les chasses à l’homme cessent. Pour que les droits des personnes exilées soient enfin respectés. Et pour que plus personne ne meurt dans nos montagnes.

      Avec d’autres membres de la FSGT, nous y serons.

      https://blogs.mediapart.fr/maraudeurs-solidaires-fsgt/blog/200219/notre-frontiere-tue-tamimou-derman-nest-plus-recit-dune-maraude-soli

    • Hautes-Alpes : un nouveau décès, conséquence tragique des politiques migratoires [Alerte inter-associative]

      Dans la nuit du 6 au 7 février, un jeune homme est mort entre Montgenèvre et Briançon. Il avait rejoint la France depuis l’Italie après avoir passé plusieurs heures dans la montagne.

      Un drame qui alerte nos associations (Anafé, Amnesty International France, La Cimade, Médecins du Monde, Médecins sans Monde, Secours Catholique-Caritas France, Tous Migrants) qui, depuis plus de deux ans, ne cessent de constater et de dénoncer les violations des droits de la part des autorités françaises à la frontière : renvois systématiques en Italie au mépris du droit, courses-poursuites, refus de prise en charge y compris des plus vulnérables. Ces pratiques poussent les personnes migrantes à prendre toujours plus de risques, comme celui de traverser par des sentiers enneigés, de nuit, en altitude, par des températures négatives, sans matériel adéquat.

      En dépit d’alertes répétées, ces violations perdurent. Dans le même temps, les personnes leur portant assistance sont de plus en plus inquiétées et poursuivies en justice.

      Alors que les ministres de l’intérieur de l’Union européenne se sont réunis à Bucarest pour définir une réforme du régime de l’asile et des politiques migratoires, nos associations demandent le respect des droits fondamentaux des personnes réfugiés et migrantes pour que cessent, entre autres, les drames aux frontières.

      Un rassemblement citoyen à Briançon est prévu
      Ce samedi 9 février 2019 à 15h
      Au Champ de Mars
      Des représentants des associations locales seront disponibles pour témoigner

      http://www.anafe.org/spip.php?article518

    • REPORTAGE - Hautes-Alpes : une frontière au-dessus des lois

      Humiliés et pourchassés, des migrants voient leurs droits bafoués dans les Hautes-Alpes.

      Un mort de froid, une bavure et des maraudeurs : le reportage d’Anna Ravix à la frontière avec l’Italie.

      https://www.facebook.com/konbinifr/videos/639237329867456/?v=639237329867456
      #vidéo #mourir_aux_frontières

      Témoignage d’un migrant qui a fait la route avec #Tamimou, trouvé mort en février 2019 :

      « Au milieu des montagnes, on était perdus, totalement. On s’est dit : On ne va pas s’en sortir, on va mourir là. Tamimou, il ne pouvait plus avancer, il avait perdu ses deux bottes. En chaussettes, il marchait dans la neige. Ses pieds étaient congelés, ils sont devenus durs, même le sang ne passait plus. Et puis je l’ai porté, il me remerciait, il me remerciait... Il disait : ’Dieu va te bénir, Dieu va te bénir, aide-moi. En descendant, on a vu une voiture, un monsieur qui quittait la ville. On lui a expliqué le problème. Il a pris son téléphone et il a appelé le 112. Il a dit : ’Si vous ne venez pas vite, il va perdre la vie.’ C’est là qu’ils ont dit qu’ils seraient là dans 30 minutes. Il était 1 heure du matin, ils ne sont pas arrivés avant 3 heures du matin. »

      Tamimou est mort à l’hôpital à 4 heures du matin.

      « La mort du jeune », continue le témoin, « sincèrement, je peux dire que c’est le problème de la police. Le fait qu’on a appelé la police. Si ils étaient arrivés à temps, le jeune serait encore en vie ».

      –-> Le témoin a été interrogé par la police. Et ils ont reçu un OQTF.

      –-----------------

      Témoignage d’un maraudeur :

      Il n’y a pas de RV, on est là. Peut-être il n’y a personne aujourd’hui, je ne sais pas...
      Ce qui n’est pas évident, parce que quand ils nous voient, ils ont tendance à nous prendre pour les forces de l’ordre. ça, c’est quelque chose qu’ils ont mis en place l’été dernier. On a commencé à voir descendre des fourgons de la gendarmerie des personnes en shorts et en baskets. Les migrants, quand ils croisent ces personnes, ils les prenaient pour des randonneurs, ils demandaient des renseignements, et ils tombaient dans le panneau, quoi.

      –-----------------

      Témoignage d’un migrant (mineur au moment des faits), il revient sur des événements ayant eu lieu une année auparavant :

      « On est parti dans la forêt et c’est là que la police nous a attrapés. Ils nous ont obligés à retourner à la frontière de Clavière.
      Après, j’ai fouillé tous mes bagages et je trouvais plus mon argent, plus de 700 EUR. »

      Du coup, il va à la police et il enregistre la conversation. C’était le 04.08.2018
      –> cette conversation avec la police a été recensée ailleurs (sur seenthis aussi). Un policier avait dit :

      « Tu accuses la police de vol, ce soir tu es en garde à vue ici, demain t’es dans un avion »

    • Voir aussi le témoignage de #Marie_Dorléans de Tous Migrants :

      Au-delà de ces personnes qui ont survécu et échappé au pire, on voulait absolument rappeler aussi aujourd’hui celles qui n’ont pas eu cette chance et notamment parce qu’il faut pas s’habituer, parce qu’il ne faut pas que ces gens tombent dans l’anonymat. Le 7 février 2019, Tamimou, un jeune togolais de 28 ans, est mort d’épuisement et de froid au bord de la route nationale que la plupart d’entre vous viennent de monter. »

      Et de #Pâquerette_Forest de SOS Alpes solidaires :

      « Ils marchent quelques fois avec google maps sur le portable, si le portable fonctionne, parce que si il fait trop froid ils n’ont plus de batterie, et au bout d’un moment ça marche plus. Après il y a un peu des traces de gens qui se promènent et du passage quand il y a des gens qui passent tous les jours, donc ça peut aussi les aider. Après ils se repèrent aux lumières des villages. #Tamimou qui est décédé, il a perdu ses bottes au-dessus de La Vachette. Ils ont coupé, et on a bien compris qu’au début ils étaient sur une espèce de piste et puis à un moment ils ont coupé la piste et ils avaient de la neige jusque là [elle montre la hauteur de la neige avec ses mains sur les jambes, on ne voit pas sur la vidéo]. Lui il a perdu ses bottes, après ils ont essayé de le porter, et puis il était épuisé et puis il est mort »

      https://seenthis.net/messages/756096#message777436

    • Extrait du livre de Maurzio Pagliassotti,

      Ancora dodici chilometri

      :

      « Trovato da una camionista lungo la statale, come un cane abbandonato. Si muore così, lungo la rotta apina : si muore sempre così, solo che, a volte,capita che il cadavere finisca come una pietra d’inciampo nel cammino di qualcuno che non può evitarlo, che non può non vederlo. Noi, non vediamo cosa succede in questi boschi la notte, e la natura provvede a nascondere le nostre vergogne, a far sparire le prove della nostra miseria.
      Morto. Nella buia e gelida notte di questo febbraio, mentre l’Italia gioca a far la guerra alla Francia e questa richiama l’ambasciatore a Parigi. Si muore così, lungo la rotta alpina, nel tentativo di una fuga sempre più assurda, e disperata.
      Ventinove anni, dal Togo, si chiamava #Derman_Teminou. Aveva superato il campo da golf, la frontiera presidiata dalla gendarmeria, il paese del Monginevro silenzioso, le piste da sci e gli ultimi nottambuli che uscivano dalle discoteche. Ma non è riuscito a superare il freddo polare che piano piano lo ha stroncato, portandolo ad accucciarsi come un animale ferito in un cantuccio. Chissà cosa ha pensato in quelle ore di marcia da solo, forse da solo, se ha visto lontano il fondovalle da raggiungere, le luci delle città sempre più fioche negli occhi che si spengono, stroncati dal sonno.
      Molta neve è caduta questi giorni, e le montagne si sono trasformate in un mare bianco in cui nuotare. Una distesa farinosa in cui i migranti affondano passo dopo passo, con la coltre bianca che carpisce fino alle ascelle. Si vedono così, in questi giorni : come se fossero caduti nel Mediterraneo, annaspare con le braccia larghe e il collo teso, le bocche spalancate, naufraghi a 2000 metri di quota. I volontari tentano di recuperarli, di avvertirli, le raccomandazioni minacciose di questi bianchi sconosciuti devono suonare vagamente ridicole per chi arriva dai campi di sterminio della Libia.
      La procura di Gap apre un fascicolo per omicidio involontario : chissà cosa vuole dire. Chi sarebbe l’omicida involontario da trovare ? Qualcuno che lo ha abbandonato ? Un militare ? Un governo ? Sui quotidiani esce qualche sparuto articoletto che parla di ‘migrante morto’. Ma l’uomo trovato, ridotto ad essere un pezzo di ghiaccio, non è un ‘migrante’. L’uomo morto questa note, e tutti gli altri che non vengono nemmeno trovati perché dispersi in qualche dirupo o divorati dagli animali di queste foreste, sono fuggiaschi. Uomini, donne e bambini che scappano dall’Italia, che percepiscono, e vivono , come un paese pericoloso e ostile, da attraversare il più velocemente possibile o da abbandonare dopo anni di vita.
      Lo hanno portato all’ospedale di Briançon ancora in vita : ma il freddo gli aveva ormai ghiacciato il sangue e il cuore. Si muore così, lungo la rotta alpina. Lontani da ogni pietà, con i gendarmi che danno la caccia ai fuggiaschi e volontari : gli mancavano nove chilometri di strata lungo la statale. Non poteva farcela, in quelle condizioni, da solo, senza un amico, qualcuno a cui dire l’ultima parola della sua vita.
      Passa qualche giorno, finisco in una cena dove mi raccontano cosa è accaduto realmente la note in cui quell’uomo di ventinove anni è caduto. Uno dei tanti, delle decine di cui non sappiamo nulla dato che valgono solo qualche trafiletto nelle ultime pagine dei settimanali locali.
      Derman Tamimou arriva a Claviere insieme ad altri ‘migranti’ come sempre accade: con l’autobus serale che parte da Oulx e li scarica di fronte alla chiesetta. Sono ventuno : un gruppo imponente. Ma l’ordine di grandezza di questi plotoni che quotidianamente si arrendono e scappano è stabile. Partono e seguono la pista da sci di fondo : dopo circa mezz’ora vengono intercettati dai gendarmi, che ne prendono tredici. Otto riescono a fuggire nei boschi. Superano il piccolo villaggio del Monginevro e si dividono ulteriormente : cinque si gettano lungo la statale, tre rimangono lungo i sentieri che attraversano il ripido pendio che conduce a Monginevro.
      Tra questi tre c’è Darman che, a circa quattro chilometri dalla sua meta, si arrende e si sveste. E’ completamente bagnato, perché la neve da subito si è fatta strada nelle scarpe e nei vestiti. La neve nei piedi che dà un delirio e provoca l’illusione di un senso di calore che uccide passo dopo passo la percezione stessa della morte, che sale dai piedi fino al cuore.
      Si fermano e accendono un fuoco con i pochi legni secchi che trovano nei boschi. Impresa non semplice. Derman si spoglia ed espone al calore delle fiamme i suoi vestiti e il suo corpo. I suoi compagni intanto si gettano lungo la statale alla ricerca di aiuto : e qui accade qualcosa di incredibile. Qualcuno si ferma, ma dato che si tratta di due africani che chiedono aiuto per un loro amico che sta per morire, tutti decidono di proseguire.
      Una letale miscellanea di paura, buio, uominii neri e morte spinge in avanti il tempo senza che nulla accada. Le ore della notte diventano ore dell’alba, e i primi raggi di sole altro non sono che mezze illusioni. Derman si attorciglia su se stesso, ormai lasciato solo a morire nel suo buco. Le fiamme spente, i vestiti ghiacciati e rigidi che pendono da una croce di rami come un Cristo senza dignità. Lo trova un camionista, la corsa all’ospedale, la morte.
      Passano i giorni, si scopre che i suoi compagni vengono intercettati dai gendarmi che mostrano loro le foto di alcuni italiani : ‘Diteci chi vi ha aiutato a passare il confine’, questa la richiesta, che spiega la singlare accusa di ‘omicidio involntario’. Scorrono le foto dei volontari che sul fronte italiano di questa guerra ‘aiutano’ : colpa suprema, peccato totale da cui redenzione non può esistere ».
      (Pagliassotti, 2019 : 172-175)

    • Migranti. L’ultimo viaggio di Tamimou

      Il corpo del giovane morto di freddo sulle Alpi è tornato in Togo. L’articolo che «Avvenire» gli aveva dedicato, facendo visita alla sua famiglia, è stato ripubblicato da un giornale togolese

      Sono le 2:07 di giovedì mattina all’aeroporto internazionale Gnassingbé Eyadema di Lomé. L’aereo della Royal Air Maroc è appena atterrato. All’interno c’è la bara di Tamimou Derman, il migrante togolese morto assiderato tra le Alpi mentre cercava di attraversare a piedi il confine dall’Italia verso la Francia: https://www.avvenire.it/attualita/pagine/migrante-morte-assiderato-tra-italia-e-francia.

      Da oltre tre ore, un gruppo formato da una decina di familiari e amici attende paziente ai bordi della strada. Le guardie dell’aeroporto gli hanno detto di aspettare fuori dalla struttura. Sono solo uomini: padre, fratelli, cugini, zii e qualche amico d’infanzia. Hanno percorso tre ore di strada da Madjaton, il villaggio dove è cresciuto Tamimou. Il furgone bianco noleggiato per il viaggio avrà il compito di riportare indietro il corpo del ragazzo morto a 29 anni. Dopo essersi seduti al tavolo dell’unico bar ancora aperto, il gruppo spiega cosa è successo in queste settimane. «Un nostro cugino che vive in Italia ci ha dato la notizia settimana scorsa», racconta ad Avvenire Samoudine Derman, il fratello maggiore. «Ha raccolto i soldi per rimpatriare Tamimou. Siamo molto contenti – continua Samoudine –, finalmente potremo seppellirlo».

      Il migrante togolese era ancora vivo quando è stato trovato da un camionista lo scorso 7 febbraio sul ciglio della strada statale 94 del Colle del Monginevro. Come altri suoi compagni, Tamimou ha rischiato la vita per raggiungere clandestinamente la Francia dall’Italia. L’ambulanza l’ha trasportato nell’ospedale di Briançon dove il giovane ha però esalato il suo ultimo respiro. «Ringraziamo molto la stampa italiana per aver parlato di Tamimou – afferma Sadate Boutcho, un amico d’infanzia –. Dopo aver recuperato la bara torneremo subito al villaggio per il funerale». La cerimonia è stata annunciata su una radio locale. «Siamo musulmani, abituati a interrare il corpo il prima possibile e a ricevere per giorni le persone che vogliono dare l’ultimo saluto – afferma con un tiepido sorriso Isak, un altro amico e coetaneo della vittima –. Nel caso di Tamimou abbiamo però aspettato quasi due mesi».

      Il 19 febbraio Avvenire aveva pubblicato la storia del migrante intitolata ’Il sogno spezzato di mio figlio’: https://www.avvenire.it/attualita/pagine/in-togo-a-casa-di-tamimou-migrante-morto-freddo-alpi. Lo stesso articolo è stato ripubblicato sul giornale togolese L’Alternative il 22 febbraio. «È preoccupante che a parlare della morte di un nostro fratello sia stata prima la stampa italiana rispetto a quella togolese», ha ammesso Ferdinand Mensah Ayite, direttore della rivista. Nei giorni seguenti, per volere della famiglia Derman, due buste con dentro entrambi gli articoli e una lettera di richiesta di aiuto per il rimpatrio del cadavere sono state consegnate alla presidenza e al ministero degli Affari esteri togolesi. Nel mentre, Ganiou, il cugino di Tamimou residente in Italia, si è occupato delle formalità in Francia. «Abbiamo raccolto almeno 3.500 euro per le spese del trasporto – spiega Ganiou, arrivato a Lomé in anticipo per assicurarsi che tutto andasse a buon fine –. Ho ricevuto sostegno da un’organizzazione francese di cui preferisco non rivelare il nome». Il bar chiude e ci ritroviamo in strada. Ganiou è andato a seguire le ultime formalità. Il tempo continua a passare.

      Nessuno sa cosa stia succedendo con esattezza. Alle 4 e mezza di mattina, il padre di Tamimou, Inoussa Derman, si siede sul marciapiede vicino a un parente. Samoudine e gli altri si addormentano. Solo verso le 10 di mattina viene spedito ad Avvenire un messaggio con la foto della bara nel furgone. «Finalmente abbiamo recuperato il corpo – scrive Sadate –, il funerale è stato spostato quindi alle 3 del pomeriggio». La folla osserva la bara mentre viene calata in una buca scavata nella terra rossa di Madjaton. Il villaggio sprofonda nel silenzio. Potrà la morte di Tamimou arrestare la migrazione dei togolesi verso l’Europa? «Qui non c’è lavoro – aveva spiegato Isak durante l’attesa fuori dall’aeroporto –. Ho studiato da meccanico e, nonostante la drammatica fine di Tamimou, sono pronto a partire verso l’Italia o la Francia».

      https://www.avvenire.it/attualita/pagine/lultimo-viaggio-di-taminou

    • Derman Tamimou e il tema di una bambina di nove anni

      “Le persone che ho visto, tra i migranti, mi sembravano persone uguali a noi, non capisco perchè tutti pensano che siano diverse da noi. Secondo me aiutare le persone, in questo caso i migranti, è una cosa bella”

      Derman Tamimou aveva 29 anni, era arrivato in Italia dal Togo e, nella notte tra il 6 e il 7 febbraio, ha intrapreso il suo ultimo viaggio nel tentativo di varcare il confine. Un camionista ne ha scorto il corpo semiassiderato e rannicchiato tra la neve ai bordi della statale del colle di Monginevro. Nonostante l’immediato trasporto all’ospedale di Briancon, Derman è morto poco dopo.

      E’ difficile immaginare cosa abbia pensato e provato Derman negli ultimi istanti della sua vita, prima di perdere conoscenza per il gelo invernale. Quali sogni, speranze, ricordi, … quanta fatica, rabbia, paura …

      Potrebbe essere tranquillizzante pensare a questa morte come tragica fatalità e derubricarla a freddo numero da aggiungere alla lista di migranti morti nella ricerca di un futuro migliore in Europa. Eppure quell’interminabile lista parla a ognuno di noi. Racconta di vite interrotte che, anche quando non se ne conosce il nome, ci richiamano a una comune umanità da cui non possiamo prescindere per non smarrire noi stessi. A volte lo ricordiamo quando scopriamo, cucita nel giubbotto di un quattordicenne partito dal Mali e affogato in un tragico naufragio nel 2015, una pagella, un bene prezioso con cui presentarsi ai nuovi compagni di classe e di vita. Altre volte lo ricordano i versi di una poesia “Non ti allarmare fratello mio”, ritrovata nelle tasche di Tesfalidet Tesfon, un giovane migrante eritreo, morto subito dopo il suo sbarco a Pozzallo, nel 2018, a seguito delle sofferenze patite nelle carceri libiche e delle fatiche del viaggio: “È davvero così bello vivere da soli, se dimentichi tuo fratello al momento del bisogno?”. È davvero così bello?

      L’estate scorsa, lungo la strada in cui ha perso la vita Derman Tamimou, si poteva ancora trovare un ultimo luogo di soccorso e sostegno per chi cercava di attraversare il confine. Un rifugio autogestito che è stato sgomberato in autunno, con l’approssimarsi dell’inverno, senza alcuna alternativa di soccorso locale per i migranti. Per chiunque fosse passato da quei luoghi non era difficile prevedere i rischi che questa chiusura avrebbe comportato. Bastava fermarsi, incontrare e ascoltare i migranti, i volontari e tutte le persone che cercavano di portare aiuto e solidarietà, nella convinzione che non voltare lo sguardo di fronte a sofferenze, rischi e fatiche altrui sia l’unica strada per restare umani.

      Incontri che una bambina di nove anni, in quelle che avrebbe voluto fossero le sue “Montagne solidali”, ha voluto raccontare così: “Oggi da Bardonecchia, dove in stazione c’è un posto in cui aiutano i migranti che cercano di andare in Francia, siamo andati in altri due posti dove ci sono i migranti che si fermano e ricevono aiuto nel loro viaggio, uno a Claviere e uno a Briancon. In questi posti ci sono persone che li accolgono, gli danno da mangiare, un posto dove dormire, dei vestiti per ripararsi dal freddo, danno loro dei consigli su come evitare pericoli e non rischiare la loro vita nel difficile percorso di attraversamento del confine tra Italia e Francia tra i boschi e le montagne. I migranti, infatti, di notte cercano di attraversare i boschi e questo è difficile e pericoloso, perchè possono farsi male o rischiare la loro vita cadendo da un dirupo. I migranti scelgono di affrontare il loro viaggio di notte perchè è più difficile che la polizia li veda e li faccia tornare indietro. A volte, per sfuggire alla polizia si feriscono per nascondersi o scappare. Nel centro dove sono stata a Claviere, alcuni migranti avevano delle ferite, al volto e sulle gambe, causate durante i tentativi di traversata. Infatti i migranti provano tante volte ad attraversare le montagne, di solito solo dopo la quarta o quinta volta riescono a passare. La traversata è sempre molto pericolosa, perchè non conoscono le montagne e le strade da percorrere, ma soprattutto in inverno le cose sono più difficili perchè con la neve, il freddo, senza i giusti vestiti e scarpe, del cibo caldo e non conoscendo la strada tutto è più rischioso. Lo scorso inverno, sul Colle della Scala, sono morte diverse persone provando a fare questo viaggio. Anche le persone che li aiutano sono a rischio, perchè solo per aver dato loro da mangiare, da dormire e dei vestiti possono essere denunciate e arrestate. Oggi sette ragazzi sono in carcere per questo. Io penso che non è giusto essere arrestati quando si aiutano le persone. A Briancon, dove aiutano i migranti che hanno appena attraversato il confine, ho visto alcuni bambini e questa cosa mi ha colpito molto perchè vuol dire che sono riusciti a fare un viaggio così lungo e faticoso attraverso i boschi e le montagne. Qui ho conosciuto la signora Annie, una volontaria che aiuta i migranti appena arrivati in Francia, una signora gentile e molto forte, che è stata chiamata 8 volte ad andare dalla polizia per l’aiuto che sta dando ai migranti, ma lei sorride e continua a farlo, perchè pensa che non aiutarli sia un’ingiustizia. Le persone che ho visto, tra i migranti, mi sembravano persone uguali a noi, non capisco perchè tutti pensano che siano diverse da noi. Secondo me aiutare le persone, in questo caso i migranti, è una cosa bella”.

      https://www.vita.it/derman-tamimou-e-il-tema-di-una-bambina-di-nove-anni

  • Beyond borders, beyond boundaries. A Critical Analysis of EU Financial Support for Border Control in Tunisia and Libya

    In recent years, the European Union (EU) and its Member States have intensified their effort to prevent migrants and asylum seekers from reaching their borders. One strategy to reach this goal consists of funding programs for third countries’ coast guards and border police, as currently happens in Libya and Tunisia.

    These programs - funded by the #EUTF_for_Africa and the #NDICI-Global_Europe - allocate funding to train and equip authorities, including the delivery and maintenance of assets. NGOs, activists, and International Organizations have amassed substantial evidence implicating Libyan and Tunisian authorities in severe human rights violations.

    The Greens/EFA in the European Parliament commissioned a study carried out by Profundo, ARCI, EuroMed Rights and Action Aid, on how EU funding is linked to human rights violations in neighbouring countries, such as Tunisia and Libya.

    The study answers the following questions:

    - What is the state of EU funding for programs aimed at enhancing border control capacities in Libya and Tunisia?
    - What is the human rights impact of these initiatives?
    - What is the framework for human rights compliance?
    - How do the NDICI-Global Europe decision-making processes work?

    The report highlights that the shortcomings in human rights compliance within border control programs, coupled with the lack of proper transparency clearly contradicts EU and international law. Moreover, this results in the insufficient consideration of the risk of human rights violations when allocating funding for both ongoing and new programs.

    This is particularly concerning in the cases of Tunisia and Libya, where this report collects evidence that the ongoing strategies, regardless of achieving or not the questionable goals of reducing migration flows, have a very severe human rights impact on migrants, asylum seekers and refugees.

    Pour télécharger l’étude:
    https://www.greens-efa.eu/fr/article/study/beyond-borders-beyond-boundaries

    https://www.greens-efa.eu/fr/article/study/beyond-borders-beyond-boundaries

    #Libye #externalisation #asile #migrations #réfugiés #Tunisie #aide_financières #contrôles_frontaliers #frontières #rapport #trust_fund #profundo #Neighbourhood_Development_and_International_Cooperation_Instrument #droits_humains #gestion_des_frontières #EU #UE #Union_européenne #fonds_fiduciaire #IVCDCI #IVCDCI-EM #gardes-côtes #gardes-côtes_libyens #gardes-côtes_tunisiens #EUTFA #coût #violence #crimes_contre_l'humanité #impunité #Méditerranée #mer_Méditerranée #naufrages

  • Il campo di #Nea_Kavala nel nord della Grecia

    Dove «le persone non hanno spazio per esistere»

    Il Nord della Grecia è spesso dimenticato ma, non meno delle isole, è un luogo in cui si consuma l’ipocrisia europea dei campi come strumento di gestione del fenomeno migratorio. Un esempio è ciò che accade nel campo di Nea Kavala, vicino a Polykastro, a nord di Salonicco, nonostante la situazione sia critica ovunque.

    Durante l’estate 2023, come in altri stati europei, gli arrivi di persone in movimento si sono moltiplicati. Ad ora, secondo l’UNHCR 2, la popolazione migrante ufficialmente in ingresso in Grecia è stata di 42.343 persone, quando l’anno scorso gli arrivi ufficiali registrati sono stati di poco meno di 20.000 in tutto l’anno. Inoltre la Grecia, sotto pressione per le alluvioni avvenute a inizio Settembre, ha dovuto svuotare campi inizialmente pensati per richiedenti asilo per poter far stare la popolazione greca senza più un’abitazione, come ad esempio è avvenuto nel campo di Klidi Sintiki.

    Di conseguenza, da inizio Luglio 2023 la popolazione del campo di Nea Kavala 3 è aumenta drasticamente, raggiungendo quasi la massima capacità di più di 1.500 persone distribuite in 280 container. Nonostante il governo greco stia affrontando il fenomeno migratorio da diversi anni, viene sempre considerato come un’emergenza e le soluzioni governative adottate sono precarie e non rispettose dei diritti umani. Non solo vengono messi fino a otto persone, incuranti delle nazionalità, negli stessi container di 24 mq pensati per massimo 6 persone, ma vengono anche mischiate persone sane con malate, famiglie con uomini singoli… ovviamente alimentando tensioni che si potrebbero evitare.

    Vivere in un campo in Grecia non è una questione temporanea di qualche giorno, ma possono volerci mesi e anni in base a quante decisioni negative si ricevono, e in base alla propria nazionalità e un po’ a fortuna, dato che la modalità di esaminare le richieste di asilo in Grecia presenta molte carenze e incongruenze. Le persone vedono la Grecia come passaggio, il loro obiettivo finale non è quello di rimanere, ma di ottenere i documenti di viaggio per poter chiedere asilo in un altro paese europeo, evitando così di percorrere la rotta balcanica. Nonostante gli accordi di Dublino, le persone spesso riescono a essere poi accolte in altri paesi europei in quanto riescono a dimostrare che le condizioni di vita nei campi greci sono inumane e degradanti.

    Per descrivere com’è il campo di Nea Kavala mi risuonano le parole di Shahram Khosravi in Io sono confine:

    «E’ il campo stesso a produrre il profugo, o la sua condizione (…) Nessuna delle mie esperienze passate- la fustigazione, il carcere, un anno di vagabondaggi illegali- era riuscita a privarmi della mia dignità. E’ stato il campo a togliermela. Fino ad allora avevo perso uno stato di riferimento con i suoi diritti di cittadinanza, ma non avevo perso la voglia di vivere, la forza di volontà e il coraggio. ll campo mi ha tolto tutto questo».

    Tra i vari effetti collaterali del sovraffollamento c’è stato anche il mancato inizio della scuola. Mentre a Settembre i bambini greci hanno iniziato a frequentarla, per chi vive nel campo di Nea Kavala si è dovuto aspettare fino a fine Ottobre. Oltre ad essere una discriminazione, i bambini nel campo non fanno nulla. Le ONG presenti sul territorio cercano di offrire lezioni e spazi gioco, ma non è abbastanza per coprire il bisogno e per poter garantire continuità educativa.

    Il campo è comunque pensato per non essere visto dalla popolazione, per essere lontano. 6 km lo separano dal centro di Polykastro in cui si trovano tutti i servizi (guardia medica, supermercato, fermata del bus, scuole…) e non c’è un servizio di trasporto pubblico disponibile. L’unica possibilità è utilizzare un taxi o una bicicletta, ma nel primo caso è costoso, nel secondo, la domanda è così alta che non ce ne sono abbastanza per tutti, nonostante l’ONG Open Cultural Center offra un servizio di noleggio 4.

    Il campo è circondato da un muro di cemento alto 3 metri (intervallato da porte di metallo), telecamere e sicurezza che controlla in entrata e in uscita e sembra più simile ad una prigione che ad un rifugio. Ma il problema non è solo questo, è la stessa esistenza e la funzione dei campi.

    Da Settembre il governo greco ha iniziato a impedire l’entrata al campo a chi avesse ottenuto i documenti o a chi, dopo 3 decisioni negative, avrebbe dovuto lasciare la Grecia. In Grecia, quando la richiesta di asilo viene accolta in modo positivo, si ottengono documenti che permettono di viaggiare in Europa e si finisce di ricevere alcuni benefici riservati ai richiedenti asilo, come ad esempio il pocket money o il cibo.

    I programmi che aiutano l’inclusione sono pochi o inesistenti, quindi le persone si ritrovano spaesate e senza sapere cosa fare. Fino a prima di Settembre, alle persone veniva almeno lasciata la possibilità di rimanere nel campo per qualche settimana in più, in modo da potersi organizzare per muoversi in un altro paese o per cercare un’ altra soluzione abitativa in Grecia.

    Attualmente invece, non solo si nega la possibilità di restare nel campo per qualche tempo, ma l’impossibilità di rientrare nel campo è comunicata senza preavviso, e senza dare l’opportunità di entrare per prendere i propri beni personali. Sono appena tornata da qualche mese lì, e nonostante diverse volte ho assistito a scene di totale disrispetto dei diritti umani fuori dal campo, ne ho una stampata in testa. Perché si tratta di persone.

    Quel pomeriggio avevamo organizzato una caccia al tesoro con i bambini che vengono al centro dell’ONG, era stato molto bello e divertente per tutti. Come ogni giorno, a fine giornata, i bambini risalgono sul pullman che Open Cultural Center mette loro a disposizione per tornare al campo di Nea Kavala. Appena arrivati tutti scendono di corsa, i più grandi si mettono in autonomia in fila per i controlli mentre i più piccoli corrono in braccio ai genitori che li aspettano e si preparano a rientrare insieme. Mi fermo a scambiare due chiacchiere con Said, perchè è il primo giorno che la piccola Nura è venuta al centro, e discutiamo di come sia andata. Lo saluto, lui si gira, fa per rientrare e la security controlla il documento ma dice no, non siete più nella lista, non potete entrare. Ma come, ci deve essere un errore, sono uscito 10 minuti fa per prendere la bambina. No, avete ottenuto i documenti e non avete più diritto a star qui.

    In realtà Said e Sana, sua moglie, hanno i documenti, ma non hanno ancora lasciato la Grecia perchè la piccola Roya, appena nata, non li ha. E’ quindi impossibile per loro andarsene. Said cerca di spiegarlo alla security ma niente da fare. Gli viene anche detto che potrebbero lasciarlo entrare, ma ci sono telecamere e se qualcuno dovesse vedere poi l’operatore della security perderebbe il posto di lavoro.

    Nel frattempo Nura intuisce qualcosa e inizia a piangere, perché la mamma e la sorella son dentro, ma niente da fare li han lasciati fuori dal campo. Fra l’altro Said è in infradito e maniche corte, nonostante faccia freddo, perchè pensava di essere uscito per soli 5 minuti, non per sempre. In tutto ciò io guardo la scena, cerco di supportare Said ma sono abbastanza scioccata, non ci credo che quello che vedo sta succedendo davvero.

    Alla fine Said, impotente, decide di passare la notte in un Hotel a Polykastro, nonostante sia costoso, perchè fa già tanto freddo per dormire all’aperto nei prati vicino al campo, soprattutto con una bambina di 4 anni. Prima di salutarci, lui che per tutto il tempo era stato fermo e deciso e sorridente per non far preoccupare la piccola, inizia a piangere e mi dice, ma lo sai che in Afghanistan facevo il traduttore per l’esercito greco? È per questo che me ne sono dovuto andare quando sono arrivati i Talebani.

    Lascio Said, Sana e Nura quando ormai si è fatto buio. Io, con il mio carico di privilegio bianco ed europeo e il passaporto in tasca, torno a casa, sono disgustata.

    Mi chiedo per quanto ancora le politiche EU e i governi continueranno a violare sistematicamente i diritti e la dignità delle persone in movimento. Mi chiedo fino a che punto sapranno spingersi, fino a quando sarà così buio.

    https://www.meltingpot.org/2023/12/il-campo-di-nea-kavala-nel-nord-della-grecia

    #Grèce #camps_de_réfugiés #réfugiés #asile #migrations #Polykastro #containers

  • Europe’s (digital) borders must fall: End the expansion of the EU’s #EURODAC database

    110 civil society organisations, including Statewatch, are calling for an end to the expansion of EURODAC, the EU database for the registration of asylum-seekers. EURODAC, designed to collect and store migrants’ data, is being transformed into an expansive, violent surveillance tool that will treat people seeking protection as crime suspects This will include children as young as 6 whose fingerprints and facial images will be integrated into the database.

    Europe’s (digital) borders must fall: End the expansion of the EU’s EURODAC database

    EURODAC is being expanded to enforce the EU’s discriminatory and hostile asylum and migration policies: increasing deportations, detention and a broader climate of racialised criminalisation.

    The endless expansion of EURODAC must be stopped: https://edri.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/EURODAC-open-letter.pdf.

    What is EURODAC?

    Since its inception in 2003, the EU has repeatedly expanded the scope, size and function of EURODAC.

    Created to implement the Dublin system and record the country responsible for processing asylum claims, it originally stored only limited information, mostly fingerprints, on few categories of people: asylum-seekers and people apprehended irregularly crossing the EU’s borders. From the start, this system has been a means to enforce a discriminatory and harmful deportation regime, premised on a false framework of ‘illegality’ in migration.

    After a first reform in 2013 allowing police to access the database, the EU continues to detach EURODAC from its asylum framework to re-package it as a system pursuing ‘wider immigration purposes’. The changes were announced in 2020 in the EU Migration Pact, the EU’s so-called ‘fresh start on migration’. Rather than a fresh start, the proposals contain the harshest proposals in the history of the EU’s migration policy: more detention, more violence, and a wider, evolved tool of surveillance in the EURODAC database to track, push back and deport ‘irregular’ migrants.
    How is the EURODAC expansion endangering people’s human rights?

    More people included into the database: Concretely EURODAC would collect a vast swathe of personal data (photographs, copies of travel and identity documents, etc.) on a wider range of people: those resettled, relocated, disembarked following search and rescue operations and arrested at borders or within national territories.

    Data collection on children: The reform would also lower the threshold for storing data in the system to the age of six, extend the data retention periods and weaken the conditions for law enforcement consultation of the database.

    Including facial images into the database: The reform also proposes the expansion to include facial images. Comparisons and searches run in the database can be based on facial recognition – a technology notoriously error-prone and unreliable that threatens the essence of dignity, non- discrimination and privacy rights. The database functions as a genuine tool of violence as it authorises the use of coercion against asylum-seekers who refuse to give up their data, such as detention and forced collection. Not only do these changes contradict European data protection standards, they demonstrate how the EU’s institutional racism creates differential standards between migrants and non-migrants.

    Access by law enforcement: EURODAC’s revamp also facilitates its connection to other existing EU migration and police databases as part of the so-called ‘interoperability’ initiative - the creation of an overarching EU information system designed to increase police identity checks of non-EU nationals, leading to increased racial profiling. These measures also unjustly equate asylum seekers with criminals. Lastly, the production of statistics from EURODAC data and other databases is supposed to inform future policymaking on migration movement trends. In reality, it is expected that they will facilitate illegal pushbacks and overpolicing of humanitarian assistance.
    End the expansion of EURODAC

    The EURODAC reform is a gross violation of the right to seek international protection, a chilling conflation of migration and criminality and an out-of-control surveillance instrument. The far- right is already anticipating the next step, calling for the collection of DNA.

    The EURODAC reform is one of many examples of the digitalisation of Fortress Europe. It is inconsistent with fundamental rights and will undermine frameworks of protection and rights of people on the move.

    We demand:

    – That the EU institutions immediately reject the expansion of EURODAC.
    - For legislators to prevent further violence and ensure protection at and within borders when rethinking the EURODAC system.
    - For legislators and EU Member States to establish safe and regular pathways for migrants and protective reception conditions.

    https://www.statewatch.org/news/2023/december/europe-s-digital-borders-must-fall-end-the-expansion-of-the-eu-s-eurodac
    #base_de_données #surveillance #frontières #frontières_digitales #migrations #asile #réfugiés #Dublin #règlement_Dublin #données_personnelles #reconnaissance_faciale #technologie

  • « #Oltre_La_Valle », un #film di #Virginia_Bellizzi

    Il film, che è stato presentato in anteprima al 41° Torino Film Festival il 26 novembre nella sezione Concorso documentari italiani, è ambientato tra Oulx e Claviere, terra da sempre di transito dove le storie dei migranti si intrecciano a quelle dei volontari che operano nei luoghi di accoglienza.

    https://www.meltingpot.org/2023/12/oltre-la-valle-un-film-di-virginia-bellizzi

    #documentaire #film_documentaire #frontière_sud-alpine #Clavière #Briançon #Val_de_Suse #Italie #Alpes #montagne #France #migrations #asile #réfugiés #frontières #Oulx

    • Oltre la valle

      In una valle al confine fra Italia e Francia, da sempre terra di transito, si incrociano le vite dei migranti e quelle degli operatori di un centro di accoglienza.
      I migranti cercano di attraversare il confine e di arrivare in Francia, consapevoli di poter essere respinti alla frontiera. Le stagioni si susseguono, il presente e il passato si sovrappongono, le traiettorie umane si snodano, sospese nell’atto irreversibile di cercare uno spazio migliore in cui esistere.

      Note di regia

      Il mio prozio emigrò in Argentina durante gli anni Quaranta. Non l’ho mai conosciuto, ma le telefonate che arrivavano dall’altro lato del mondo, da parte dei suoi figli e spesso nel periodo delle feste, hanno sempre avuto un suono prezioso.
      Quando loro ne ricordavano la memoria emergeva sempre una componente di lotta, il desiderio di trovare una strada che potesse portare a un futuro sognato, nonostante le loro parole non lo dichiarassero mai apertamente. Avvertivo anche il suono di quella sofferenza ereditata e un po’ nascosta, di chi ha sbattuto molte volte contro un muro prima di poter andare oltre. Di chi si è sentito un po’ bistrattato, solo per il fatto di essersi immaginato altrove, e di averne inseguito l’atto più definitivo, quasi fosse una scelleratezza. È strano come la storia, pur ripetendosi, si dimentichi. Per questo, molti anni dopo quelle telefonate, in tempi in cui le barriere del Mediterraneo e i margini dell’Europa diventano sempre più alti, abbiamo sentito l’esigenza di fermarci, per fotografare un luogo e le storie che lo attraversano. Ma non per cristallizzarlo, al contrario, per coglierne il transito. Il periodo di osservazione si è svolto alla frontiera italo-francese, precisamente nell’Alta Val di Susa fra Oulx e Claviere, cittadina sul versante italiano del Colle del Monginevro fino agli anni Settanta tagliata a metà dal confine. È incredibile come da qui, la Francia sembri vicinissima e lontanissima allo stesso tempo. La sua geografia cambia a seconda del tipo di documento: dista solo pochi minuti per chi ha una macchina e una targa europea, oppure cinque ore di cammino per chi viene dalla rotta balcanica. Ma è stata solo la prima di una serie di dicotomie che continuavano a ripetersi, che condividevano quella terra di confine scandendone il tempo e lo spazio: col passare delle stagioni, ogni anno, le distese di neve lasciano il posto a immensi prati, turisti e attivisti gravitano intorno alle stesse seggiovie e campi da golf, il nostro passato ritorna nel presente di chi attraversa. La frontiera, si muove su un meccanismo ben oliato, una giostra drammatica vissuta dagli stessi migranti come un gioco dell’assurdo, tanta è la loro abitudine a essere respinti e a riattraversare il giorno successivo, rischiando ogni volta la vita. È stato molto difficile ottenere qualsiasi tipo di permesso, e incontro umano dopo incontro umano, anche l’atto di filmare si è inserito negli argini di inevitabili contrappunti: "sono un solidale, sto aiutando e rischiando, il confine fra ciò che si può fare e non si può fare è molto sottile”.
      “Sono un migrante, eppure non posso attraversare il confine. Ma il confine qui... dov’é precisamente?”
      Forse il confine si trova dove c’è il cippo di pietra con le lettere F e I, anche se a volte è nascosto nel bosco, ed è difficile da intravedere. Forse è un po’ prima, là dove cammina il gendarme. Forse non c’è mai stato, oppure non è una linea retta. Rispettare le mille anime di questa Valle, e voler allo stesso tempo raccontare con oggettività ciò che stava accadendo, ha implicato una continua ricerca di equilibri e un’incessante reinterpretazione della realtà. Uno stare in bilico, come su una linea sottile. La pandemia e la guerra in Ucraina, hanno mutato nuovamente gli equilibri, mettendoci davanti altre realtà delicate e irreversibili.
      “Oltre la Valle” è una storia vista con un caleidoscopio, in cui i frammenti, o i pezzi del puzzle, vogliono ritrarre un mondo reale che sembra astratto e inverosimile, dove le montagne sono ancora sovrastate da fortezze, e i confini di un regno sono contesi nella rievocazione di un’antica battaglia. Dove i tunnel possono essere il tramite verso la meta o possono riportare al punto di partenza. Dove esiste un rifugio in cui gli ospiti provengono da un’altra Europa, dall’Africa e dall’Asia, e un operatore sogna di diventare qualcos’altro, perché in fondo, tutto, nella nostra vita, può essere di passaggio.

      https://filmitalia.org/it/film/183118

  • Border justice

    Instead of forging safe, legal pathways to protection, European states and the EU are fostering strategies of deterrence, exclusion and externalization. Most people on the move are left with no alternative but to cross borders irregularly. When they do, state actors routinely detain, beat and expel them – mostly in secret, with no assessment of their situation, and denying them access to legal safeguards.

    These multiple human rights violations are all part of the pushback experience. Often reliant on racial profiling, pushbacks have become a normalized practice at European borders. ECCHR challenges this state of rightlessness through legal interventions and supports affected people to document and tell their stories. Together we hold states accountable and push for changes in border practice and policies.

    Our team brings together a diverse group of lawyers and interdisciplinary researchers, working transnationally with partners to develop legal strategies and tackle rights violations at borders. We meticulously reconstruct and verify the experiences of those subjected to pushbacks. Confronted with states’ denial of the reality at Europe’s borders, we collect, analyze and publicise in-depth knowledge. Our aim is to enforce the most basic of legal principles: the right to have rights.

    https://www.ecchr.eu/en/border-justice

    #frontières #justice #refoulements #push-backs #violence #migrations #réfugiés #asile #justice_frontalière #justice_migratoire #Espagne #rapport #Ceuta #Grèce #Macédoine_du_Nord #Libye #Italie #hotspots #Allemagne #Croatie #Slovénie #frontière_sud-alpine #droit_d'asile #ECCHR

  •  »Vor Mauern und hinter Gittern« 

    Kinderrechte werden an den Außengrenzen der Europäischen Union mit Füßen getreten


    Kinder und Jugendliche werden an den Außengrenzen der EU gewaltsam zurückgeschoben (»Pushbacks«) und nach Ankunft in der EU inhaftiert – eine systematisch angewandte Praxis in mehreren Außengrenzstaaten der EU. Anlässlich des Treffens der EU-Innenminister*innen nächste Woche zeigt terre des hommes mit dem aktuellen Bericht »Vor Mauern und hinter Gittern« am Beispiel von Ungarn, Griechenland, Bulgarien und Polen die kinderrechtswidrigen Praktiken genauer auf. Der Bericht bezieht sich vor allem auf die Erfahrungen und Hinweise zivilgesellschaftlicher Projektpartnerorganisationen und verweist auch auf die Mitverantwortung der EU, deren Institutionen das Verhalten der Mitgliedsstaaten billigen und stützen.

    »Migrationshaft bei Kindern und Jugendlichen ist trotz ihrer Unvereinbarkeit mit der UN-Kinderrechtskonvention Realität in drei der vier untersuchten Mitgliedstaaten« sagt Teresa Wilmes, Programmreferentin für Deutschland und Europa bei terre des hommes. »In Ungarn, dem vierten untersuchten Mitgliedsstaat, wurde die Inhaftierung von geflüchteten Minderjährigen nur deswegen beendet, weil Pushbacks den Zugang zu einem Asylverfahren bereits nahezu vollständig verhindern.«

    Die Folgen für Betroffene sind gravierend: Infolge einer Inhaftierung leiden Kinder und Jugendliche häufig an Depressionen, posttraumatischen Belastungsstörungen und Angstzu­ständen. Auch die Erfahrung von Gewalt gegen sie selbst oder Verwandte und Freunde ist für Kinder und Jugendliche traumatisierend und begleitet sie oft ein Leben lang.

    Rückendeckung erhalten die Mitgliedsstaaten dabei von der EU und ihren Institutionen: »Die Europäische Union, allen voran die EU-Kommission, macht sich für die Verletzung von Kinderrechten an den europäischen Außengrenzen mitverantwortlich. Zahlreiche Beispiele dafür finden sich im Bericht: vom europäischen Pilotprojekt zum Grenzschutz in Bulgarien über die EU-Finanzierung haftähnlicher Einrichtungen auf Griechenland bis hin zur Rolle der EU-Agentur FRONTEX,« erklärt Sophia Eckert, rechtspolitische Referentin bei terre des hommes. »Unser Bericht zeigt, dass die europäische Gemeinschaft maßgebliche Einflussmöglichkeiten darauf hat, ob der Schutz, das Wohl und die Rechte geflüchteter Kinder und Jugendlicher in der EU gelten oder einer ausgeklügelten Abschottungspolitik der EU-Mitgliedsstaaten zum Opfer fallen sollen.«

    Mit Blick auf das Treffen der europäischen Innenminister*innen in der kommenden Woche fordert terre des hommes eine Kehrtwende der Reform des Gemeinsamen Europäischen Asylsystems. Dazu Sophia Eckert: »Dass die geplanten Reformvorschläge die im Bericht beschrieben Problemlagen beenden werden, ist illusorisch. Vielmehr ist zu befürchten, dass die Reform die Missstände an den europäischen Außengrenzen weiter verschärft, indem sie den Rechtsverletzungen einen europäischen Rahmen gibt. Wir fordern daher die Entscheidungsträger*innen in der EU auf, diese unsäglichen Reformpläne zu stoppen. Von einem menschenwürdigen europäischen Asylsystem erwarten wir den Zugang zu Asyl statt rechtswidriger Abschiebung, Kindeswohl statt Lagerhaft und faire Asylverfahren statt beschleunigter Grenzverfahren.«

    Pour télécharger le rapport :
    https://www.tdh.de/fileadmin/user_upload/inhalte/04_Was_wir_tun/Themen/Weitere_Themen/Fluechtlingskinder/tdh_Bericht_Kinderrechtsverletzungen-an-EU-Aussengrenzen.pdf

    https://www.tdh.de/was-wir-tun/arbeitsfelder/fluechtlingskinder/meldungen/vor-mauern-und-hinter-gittern-kinderrechte-an-den-eu-aussengrenzen

    #enfants #enfance #frontières #migrations #asile #réfugiés #rapport #terre_des_hommes #enfermement #push-backs #refoulements #Hongrie #Grèce #Bulgarie #Pologne #Balkans #route_des_Balkans #droit_d'asile #traumatisme #santé #santé_mentale

  • Get out ! Zur Situation von Geflüchteten in Bulgarien
    (publié en 2020, ajouté ici pour archivage)

    „Bulgaria is very bad“ ist eine typische Aussage jener, die auf ihrer Flucht bereits etliche Länder durchquert haben. Der vorliegende Bericht geht der Frage nach, warum Bulgarien seit Langem einen extrem schlechten Ruf unter den Geflüchteten genießt.

    Hierzu wird kenntnisreich die massive Gewalt nachgezeichnet, die Bulgarien im Zuge sogenannter „Push-Backs“ anwendet. Auch auf die intensive Kooperation mit der Türkei beim Schutz der gemeinsamen Grenze wird eingegangen. Da die Inhaftierung von Geflüchteten in Bulgarien obligatorisch ist, werden überdies die rechtlichen Hintergründe hierfür und die miserablen Haftbedingungen beschrieben. Weiterhin wird das bulgarische Asylsystem thematisiert und auf die besondere Situation von Geflüchteten eingegangen, die im Rahmen der Dublin-Verordnung nach Bulgarien abgeschoben wurden. Das bulgarische Integrationskonzept, das faktisch nur auf dem Papier existiert, wird ebenfalls beleuchtet.

    https://bordermonitoring.eu/berichte/2020-get-out
    #migrations #asile #réfugiés #frontières #rapport #Bulgarie #push-backs #refoulements #pull-backs #violence #morts_aux_frontières #mourir_aux_frontières #milices #extrême_droite #enfermement #Dublin #renvois_Dublin #droit_d'asile #encampement #camps

  • "Wie ein zweiter Tod"

    Am griechisch-türkischen Grenzfluss Evros enden Versuche, in die EU zu gelangen, immer wieder mit dem Tod. Die Verstorbenen werden oft spät gefunden und bleiben namenlos - ein Trauma für die Angehörigen.

    Am 17. Oktober 2022 überquert die 22-jährige Suhur den Evros, den Grenzfluss zwischen der Türkei und Griechenland. Ein Schlepper verspricht der Frau aus Somalia, sie bis nach Thessaloniki zu bringen. Auf der griechischen Seite angekommen, geht es schnell weiter durch einen Wald.

    Doch Suhur hat starke Bauchschmerzen, nach einigen Kilometern kann sie nicht mehr weiterlaufen. Die anderen aus der Gruppe lassen sie alleine zurück, ihre Freundin verspricht Hilfe zu suchen. Doch dazu dazu kommt es nicht. Tage später findet die Polizei ihre Leiche.

    Es ist Suhurs Onkel Fahti, der ihre Geschichte erzählt, nachdem er ihre Leiche im Universitätskrankenhaus in Alexandroupoli identifiziert hat.
    Engmaschige Kontrollen entlang des Ufers

    Suhur ist eine von vielen Menschen, die versuchen, über den Evros zu gelangen, um Europa zu erreichen. Der Fluss markiert eine Außengrenze der Europäischen Union. Entlang der griechischen Uferseite allerdings wird engmaschig kontrolliert, regelmäßig sind unterschiedliche Polizeieinheiten in der Gegend unterwegs.

    In der Grenzzone selbst ist der Zutritt streng verboten, nur mit Sondererlaubnis darf man in die Nähe des Flusses gehen. Seit 2020 wird ein Grenzzaun errichtet, 38 Kilometer ist er bereits lang, er soll Migranten von einem illegalen Übertritt abhalten.

    Weiterhin traurige Rekorde

    Doch offenbar verfehlen die Maßnahmen ihre erwünschte Wirkung. So erreichten allein im Jahr 2022 laut UNHCR 6022 Flüchtlinge über den Landweg Griechenland, das sind ähnlich hohe Zahlen wie vor der Verschärfung der Kontrollen.

    Einen traurigen Rekord stellt die Zahl der Toten auf, die gefunden werden. Mindestens 63 Menschen sind nach offiziellen Angaben auf der Flucht gestorben, die tatsächlichen Zahlen dürften noch deutlich höher liegen.

    https://www.tagesschau.de/multimedia/sendung/tagesthemen/video-1153371.html

    Ein Rechtsmediziner zählt die Toten

    In Alexandroupoli, auf griechischer Seite, arbeitet Pavlos Pavlidis als Rechtsmediziner der Region. Jeder am Evros gefundene tote Flüchtling wird von ihm obduziert.

    Pavlidis führt Protokoll über die Anzahl der Toten am Evros. Auch der tote Körper der Somalierin Suhur wurde ihm aus einem Waldstück nahe des Flusses gebracht.

    Aus London angereist, um die Nichte zu identifizieren

    Nun sitzt ihr Onkel Fahti auf einem Sofa in seinem Büro. Sie sei eine wunderschöne Frau gewesen, sagt er. Fathi ist aus London angereist, um seine Nichte zu identifizieren.

    Die Freundin von Suhur, so erzählt es Fathi, habe sich der griechischen Polizei gestellt, um sie zu der schwer erkrankten Suhur zu führen. Doch die Polizei habe nicht nach ihr gesucht, und die Freundin sofort zurück in die Türkei abgeschoben.

    Verifizieren lässt sich diese Version der Geschehnisse nicht mehr. Die „Push-Back“-Praxis, das Abschieben von Migranten ohne Verfahren, wurde offiziell nie von der griechischen Regierung bestätigt.Trotzdem gibt es viele ähnliche Berichte von Betroffenen.

    Rechtsmediziner Pavlidis hat Suhurs toten Körper obduziert und kommt zu dem Ergebnis: Die junge Frau habe auf der Flucht einen Magendurchbruch erlitten, voraussichtlich hervorgerufen durch großen Stress. Am Ende sei sie an einer Sepsis gestorben. Durch Erschöpfung hervorgerufene Krankheiten seien eine häufige Todesursache am Evros, die häufigste aber Ertrinken im Fluss.

    Viel Flüchtlinge können kaum schwimmen

    Pavlidis sagt, die Verantwortung für die vielen Toten trügen zunächst die Schlepper, die die Schlauchboote völlig überladen, so, dass sie schnell kenterten. Viele Flüchtlinge könnten kaum schwimmen, so werde der Fluss zur Gefahr für ihr Leben.

    Die Flüchtlinge selbst unterschätzen offenbar die Gefährlichkeit der Überfahrt. Aber auch die strenge Abschirmung der Grenze bedeutet für sie eine Gefahr. Um den Grenzschützern auszuweichen, schlagen sie immer gefährlichere Routen ein.

    Wer aufgegriffen wird, muss Angst haben, abgeschoben zu werden. Verletzt sich einer aus der Gruppe, muss dieser damit rechnen, alleine zurückgelassen zu werden. Denn Hilfe zu holen, würde für alle bedeuten, dass ihre teuer bezahlte Flucht erst einmal gestoppt ist.

    Aktuell 52 ungeklärte Todesfälle

    Immer wieder findet die Polizei Tote also auch in den bewaldeten Bergen entlang des Flusses. Die Leichen sind schon nach wenigen Tagen kaum noch zu identifizieren. Pavlidis versucht es trotzdem, sucht nach Todesursache und Todeszeitpunkt und nach Antworten auf die Frage, wer ist dieser Mensch war.

    Aktuell erzählt Pavlidis von 52 ungeklärten Fällen. Hinter jedem einzelnen stünden Angehörige, die diese Menschen vermissten. Die Identität zu verlieren, sei wie ein zweiter Tod, sagt der Rechtsmediziner.

    Etwa 200 Grabsteine erinnern an die namenlosen Toten

    Um den namenlosen Toten eine letzte Ruhestätte zu geben, entstand in dem in den Bergen, nahe der Gemeinde Sidiro, ein Friedhof, der ihnen gewidmet ist. Etwa 200 Grabsteine stehen hier auf einer leichten Anhöhe. Auf den Platten stehen Nummern. Pavlidis führt eine Liste mit den entsprechenden Nummern in seinem Büro.

    Falls doch irgendwann ein Angehöriger zu ihm käme und mit Hilfe einer DNA-Probe einen Toten identifiziere, könne der auf dem Friedhof der Namenlosen ausgegraben und umgebettet werden.

    Im Fall der Somalierin Suhur ist Pavlidis eine Identifizierung gelungen. Ihr Onkel Fathi lebte wochenlang mit der Ungewissheit, was seiner Nichte geschehen sein könnte.

    Nachdem er bei der griechischen Polizei eine Suchanzeige abgegeben hat, lebt er nun mit der brutalen Gewissheit, dass Suhur gestorben ist. Wenigstens habe er nun Klarheit, sagt er, so dass seine Familie und er nun von Suhur Abschied nehmen könnten.

    https://www.tagesschau.de/multimedia/audio/audio-154699.html
    https://www.tagesschau.de/ausland/europa/eu-aussengrenze-migration-101.html

    #frontières #mourir_aux_frontières #morts_aux_frontières #Evros #fleuve #Turquie #Grèce #Pavlos_Pavlidis #cimetière #migrations #asile #réfugiés #identification #murs #barrières_frontalières

  • #Interpol makes first border arrest using Biometric Hub to ID suspect

    Global database of faces and fingerprints proves its worth.

    European police have for the first time made an arrest after remotely checking Interpol’s trove of biometric data to identify a suspected smuggler.

    The fugitive migrant, we’re told, gave a fake name and phony identification documents at a police check in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, while traveling toward Western Europe. And he probably would have got away with it, too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids Interpol’s Biometric Hub – a recently activated tool that uses French identity and biometrics vendor Idemia’s technology to match people’s biometric data against the multinational policing org’s global fingerprint and facial recognition databases.

    “When the smuggler’s photo was run through the Biometric Hub, it immediately flagged that he was wanted in another European country,” Interpol declared. “He was arrested and is currently awaiting extradition.”

    Interpol introduced the Biometric Hub – aka BioHub – in October, and it is now available to law enforcement in all 196 member countries.

    Neither Interpol nor Idemia immediately responded to The Register’s questions about how the technology and remote access works.

    But Cyril Gout, Interpol’s director of operational support and analysis, offered a canned quote: “The Biometric Hub helps law enforcement officers know right away whether the person in front of them poses a security risk.”

    That suggests Interpol member states’ constabularies can send biometric data to BioHub from the field and receive real-time info about suspects’ identities.

    The multinational policing org has said that Hub’s “biometric core” combines Interpol’s existing fingerprint and facial recognition databases, which both use Idemia tech, with a matching system also based on Idemia’s biometric technology.

    Interpol and Idemia have worked together for years. In 1999, he police organization chose Idemia to develop its fingerprint database, called the Automated Fingerprint Identification System (AFIS). And then in 2016, Interpol inked another contract with Idemia to use the French firm’s facial recognition capabilities for the Interpol Face Recognition System (IFRS).

    According to Idemia, the latest version of its Multibiometric Identification System, MBIS 5, uses “new generation algorithms which provide a higher matching accuracy rate with a shorter response time and a more user-friendly interface.”

    In its first phase, Interpol will use MBIS 5 to identify persons of interest (POIs) for police investigations.

    A second phase, which will take two years to become fully operational, will extend the biometric checks to border control points. During this phase the system will be able to perform up to one million forensic searches per day – including fingerprints, palm prints, and portraits.

    Interpol expects the combined fingerprints and facial recognition system will speed future biometric searches. Instead of running a check against separate biometric databases, BioHub allows police officers to submit data to both through one interface, and it only requires human review if the “quality of the captured biometric data is such that the match falls below a designated threshold.”

    To address data governance concerns, Interpol claims BioHub complies with its data protection framework. Additionally, scans of faces and hands uploaded to the Hub are not added to Interpol’s criminal databases or made visible to other users. Any data that does not result in a match is deleted following the search, we’re told.

    While The Register hasn’t heard of any specific data privacy and security concerns related to BioHub, we’re sure it’s only a matter of time before it’s misused.

    America’s Transportation Security Agency (TSA) over the summer also said it intends to expand its facial recognition program, which also uses Idemia’s tech, to screen air travel passengers to 430 US airports. The TSA wants that capability in place within ten years.

    The TSA announcement was swiftly met with opposition from privacy and civil rights organizations, along with some US senators who took issue [PDF] with the tech.

    https://www.theregister.com/2023/12/01/interpol_biohub_arrest

    #frontières #contrôles_frontaliers #technologie #empreintes_digitales #biométrie #Interpol #migrations #asile #réfugiés #Biometric_Hub #Balkans #route_des_Balkans #Bosnie-Herzégovine #Idemia #reconnaissance_faciale #passeurs #BioHub #extradition #sécurité #risque #interopérabilité #base_de_données #Automated_Fingerprint_Identification_System (#AFIS) #Interpol_Face_Recognition_System (#IFRS) #Multibiometric_Identification_System #MBIS_5 #algorithmes #persons_of_interest (#POIs) #portraits #Transportation_Security_Agency (#TSA)