• #mental_health and #psychosocial_support in #Ukraine: insights from an interdisciplinary review
    https://redasadki.me/2024/03/09/mental-health-and-psychosocial-support-in-ukraine-insights-from-an-interdi

    The ongoing #war in Ukraine has taken a severe toll on the population’s mental health and psychosocial wellbeing. A new interdisciplinary review by Frankova and colleagues (2024) provides an in-depth analysis of the mental health impacts, cultural and historical factors shaping #coping and help-seeking, the evolving humanitarian response, and recommendations for strengthening mental health and psychosocial support (MHPSS) in Ukraine. The report is an interdisciplinary literature review supplemented by key informant interviews. It synthesizes academic publications, gray literature, media reports and policy documents in English, Ukrainian and Russian. The review team included Ukrainian practitioners and regional experts to identify additional Ukrainian-language sources. The review found (...)

    #Global_health #armed_conflict #MHPSS

  • ‘Living in this constant nightmare of insecurity and uncertainty’

    DURING the first week of 2021, Katrin Glatz-Brubakk treated a refugee who had tried to drown himself.

    His arms, already covered with scars, were sliced open with fresh cuts.

    He told her: “I can’t live in this camp any more. I’m tired of being afraid all the time, I don’t want to live any more.”

    He is 11 years old. Glatz-Brubakk, a child psychologist at Doctors Without Borders’ (MSF) mental health clinic in Lesbos, tells me he is the third child she’s seen for suicidal thoughts and attempts so far this year.

    At the time we spoke, it was only two weeks into the new year.

    The boy is one of thousands of children living in the new Mavrovouni (also known as Kara Tepe) refugee camp on the Greek island, built after a fire destroyed the former Moria camp in September.

    MSF has warned of a mental health “emergency” among children at the site, where 7,100 refugees are enduring the coldest months of the year in flimsy tents without heating or running water.

    Situated by the coast on a former military firing range, the new site, dubbed Moria 2.0, is completely exposed to the elements with tents repeatedly collapsing and flooding.

    This week winds of up to 100km/h battered the camp and temperatures dropped to zero. Due to lockdown measures residents can only leave once a week, meaning there is no escape, not even temporarily, from life in the camp.
    Camp conditions causing children to break down, not their past traumas

    It is these appalling conditions which are causing children to break down to the point where some are even losing the will to live, Glatz-Brubakk tells me.

    While the 11-year-old boy she treated earlier this year had suffered traumas in his past, the psychologist says he was a resilient child and had been managing well for a long time.

    “But he has been there in Moria now for one year and three months and now he is acutely suicidal.”

    This is also the case for the majority of children who come to the clinic.

    “On our referral form, when children are referred to us we have a question: ‘When did this problem start?’ and approximately 90 per cent of cases it says when they came to Moria.”

    Glatz-Brubakk tells me she’s seen children who are severely depressed, have stopped talking and playing and others who are self-harming.

    Last year MSF noted 50 cases of suicidal thoughts and attempts among children on the island, the youngest of whom was an eight-year-old girl who tried to hang herself.

    It’s difficult to imagine children so young even thinking about taking their lives.

    But in the camp, where there are no activities, no school, where tents collapse in the night, and storms remind children of the war they fled from, more and more little ones are being driven into despair.

    “It is living in this constant nightmare of insecurity and uncertainty that is causing children to break down,” Glatz-Brubakk says.

    “They don’t think it’s going to get better. ‘I haven’t slept for too long, I’ve been worrying every minute of every day for the last year or two’ — when you get to that point of exhaustion, falling asleep and never waking up again is more tempting than being alive.”

    Children play in the mud in the Moria 2 camp [Pic: Mare Liberum]

    Mental health crisis worsening

    While there has always been a mental health crisis on the island, Glatz-Brubakk says the problem has worsened since the fire reduced Moria to ashes five months ago.

    The blaze “retraumatised” many of the children and triggered a spike in mental health emergencies in the clinic.

    But the main difference, she notes, is that many people have now lost any remnant of hope they may have been clinging to.

    Following the fire, the European Union pledged there would be “no more Morias,” and many refugees believed they would finally be moved off the island.

    But it quickly transpired that this was not going to be the case.

    While a total of 5,000 people, including all the unaccompanied minors, have been transferred from Lesbos — according to the Greek government — more than 7,000 remain in Moria 2.0, where conditions have been described as worse than the previous camp.

    “They’ve lost hope that they will ever be treated with dignity, that they will ever have their human rights, that they will be able to have a normal life,” Glatz-Brubakk says.

    “Living in a mud hole as they are now takes away all your feeling of being human, really.”

    Yasser, an 18-year-old refugee from Afghanistan and Moria 2.0 resident, tells me he’s also seen the heavy toll on adults’ mental health.

    “In this camp they are not the same people as they were in the previous camp,” he says. “They changed. They have a different feeling when you look in their eyes.”

    [Pic: Mare Liberum]

    No improvements to Moria 2.0

    The feelings of abandonment, uncertainty and despair have also been exacerbated by failures to make improvements to the camp, which is run by the Greek government.

    It’s been five months since the new camp was built yet there is still no running water or mains electricity.

    Instead bottled water is trucked in and generators provide energy for around 12 hours a day.

    Residents and grassroots NGOs have taken it upon themselves to dig trenches to mitigate the risk of flooding, and shore up their tents to protect them from collapse. But parts of the camp still flood.

    “When it rains even for one or two hours it comes like a lake,” says Yasser, who lives in a tent with his four younger siblings and parents.

    Humidity inside the tents also leaves clothes and blankets perpetually damp with no opportunity to get them dry again.

    Despite temperatures dropping to zero this week, residents of the camp still have no form of heating, except blankets and sleeping bags.

    The camp management have not only been unforgivably slow to improve the camp, but have also frustrated NGOs’ attempts to make changes.

    Sonia Nandzik, co-founder of ReFOCUS Media Labs, an organisation which teaches asylum-seekers to become citizen journalists, tells me that plans by NGOs to provide low-energy heated blankets for residents back in December were rejected.

    Camp management decided small heaters would be a better option. “But they are still not there,” Nandzik tells me.

    “Now they are afraid that the power fuses will not take it and there will be a fire. So there is very little planning, this is a big problem,” she says.

    UNHCR says it has purchased 950 heaters, which will be distributed once the electricity network at the site has been upgraded. But this all feels too little, too late.

    Other initiatives suggested by NGOs like building tents for activities and schools have also been rejected.

    The Greek government, which officially runs the camp, has repeatedly insisted that conditions there are far better than Moria.

    Just this week Greek migration ministry secretary Manos Logothetis claimed that “no-one is in danger from the weather in the temporary camp.”

    While the government claims the site is temporary, which may explain why it has little will to improve it, the 7,100 people stuck there — of whom 33 per cent are children — have no idea how long they will be kept in Moria 2.0 and must suffer the failures and delays of ministers in the meantime.

    “I would say it’s becoming normal,” Yasser says, when asked if he expected to be in the “temporary” camp five months after the fire.

    “I know that it’s not good to feel these situations as normal but for me it’s just getting normal because it’s something I see every day.”

    Yasser is one of Nandzik’s citizen journalism students. Over the past few months, she says she’s seen the mental health of her students who live in the camp worsen.

    “They are starting to get more and more depressed, that sometimes they do not show up for classes for several days,” she says, referring to the ReFOCUS’s media skills lessons which now take place online.

    One of her students recently stopped eating and sleeping because of depression.

    Nandzik took him to an NGO providing psychosocial support, but they had to reject his case.

    With only a few mental health actors on the island, most only have capacity to take the most extreme cases, she says.

    “So we managed to find a psychologist for him that speaks Farsi but in LA because we were seriously worried about him that if we didn’t act now it is going to go to those more severe cases.”

    [Pic: Mare Liberum]

    No escape or respite

    What makes matters far worse is that asylum-seekers have no escape or respite from the camp. Residents can only leave the camp for a period of four hours once per week, and only for a limited number of reasons.

    A heavy police presence enforces the strict lockdown, supposedly implemented to stop the spread of Covid-19.

    While the officers have significantly reduced the horrific violence that often broke out in Moria camp, their presence adds to the feeling of imprisonment for residents.

    “The Moria was a hell but since people have moved into this new camp, the control of the place has increased so if you have a walk, it feels like I have entered a prison,” Nazanin Furoghi, a 27-year-old Afghan refugee, tells me.

    “It wouldn’t be exaggerating if I say that I feel I am walking in a dead area. There is no joy, no hope — at least for me it is like this. Even if before I enter the camp I am happy, after I am feeling so sad.”

    Furoghi was moved out of the former Moria camp with her family to a flat in the nearby town of Mytilene earlier last year. She now works in the new camp as a cultural mediator.

    Furoghi explains to me that when she was living in Moria, she would go out with friends, attend classes and teach at a school for refugee children at a nearby community centre from morning until the evening.

    Families would often bring food to the olive groves outside the camp and have picnics.

    Those rare moments can make all the difference, they can make you feel human.

    “But people here, they don’t have any kind of activities inside the camp,” she explains.“There is not any free environment around the camp, it’s just the sea and the beach and it’s very windy and it’s not even possible to have a simple walk.”

    Parents she speaks to tell her that their children have become increasingly aggressive and depressed. With little else to do and no safe place to play, kids have taken to chasing cars and trucks through the camp.

    Their dangerous new game is testament to children’s resilience, their ability to play against all odds. But Nazanin finds the sight incredibly sad.

    “This is not the way children should have to play or have fun,” she says, adding that the unhygienic conditions in the camp also mean the kids often catch skin diseases.

    The mud also has other hidden dangers. Following tests, the government confirmed last month that there are dangerous levels of lead contamination in the soil, due to residue from bullets from when the site was used as a shooting range. Children and pregnant women are the most at risk from the negative impacts of lead exposure.

    [Pic: Mare Liberum]

    The cruelty of containment

    Asylum-seekers living in camps on the Aegean islands have been put under varying degrees of lockdown since the outbreak in March.

    Recent research has shown the devastating impact of these restrictions on mental health. A report by the International Rescue Committee, published in December, found that self-harm among people living in camps on Chios, Lesbos and Samos increased by 66 per cent following restrictions in March.

    One in three were also said to have contemplated suicide. The deteriorating mental health crisis on the islands is also rooted in the EU and Greek government’s failed “hot-spot” policies, the report found.

    Asylum-seekers who arrive on the Aegean islands face months if not years waiting for their cases to be processed.

    Passing this time in squalid conditions wears down people’s hopes, leading to despair and the development of psychiatric problems.

    “Most people entered the camp as a healthy person, but after a year-and-a-half people have turned into a patient with lots of mental health problems and suicidal attempts,” Foroghi says.

    “So people have come here getting one thing, but they have lost many things.”

    [Pic: Mare Liberum]

    Long-term impacts

    Traumatised children are not only unable to heal in such conditions, but are also unable to develop the key skills they need in adult life, Glatz-Brubakk says.

    This is because living in a state of constant fear and uncertainty puts a child’s brain into “alert mode.”

    “If they stay long enough in this alert mode their development of the normal functions of the brain like planning, structure, regulating feeling, going into healthy relationships will be impaired — and the more trauma and the longer they are in these unsafe conditions, the bigger the impact,” she says.

    Yasser tells me if he could speak to the Prime Minister of Greece, his message would be a warning of the scars the camp has inflicted on them.

    “You can keep them in the camp and be happy on moving them out but the things that won’t change are what happened to them,” he says.

    “What will become their personality, especially children, who got impacted by the camp so much? What doesn’t change is what I felt, what I experienced there.”

    Glatz-Brubakk estimates that the majority of the 2,300 children in the camp need professional mental health support.

    But MSF can only treat 300 patients a year. And even with support, living in conditions that create ongoing trauma means they cannot start healing.

    [Pic: Mare Liberum]

    Calls to evacuate the camps

    This is why human rights groups and NGOs have stressed that the immediate evacuation of the island is the only solution. In a letter to the Greek ombudsman this week, Legal Centre Lesvos argues that the conditions at the temporary site “reach the level of inhuman and degrading treatment,” and amount to “an attack on “vulnerable’ migrants’ non-derogable right to life.”

    Oxfam and the Greek Council for Refugees have called for the European Union to share responsibility for refugees and take in individuals stranded on the islands.

    But there seems to be little will on behalf of the Greek government or the EU to transfer people out of the camp, which ministers claimed would only be in use up until Easter.

    For now at least it seems those with the power to implement change are happy to continue with the failed hot-spot policy despite the devastating impact on asylum-seekers.

    “At days I truly despair because I see the suffering of the kids, and when you once held hands with an eight, nine, 10-year-old child who doesn’t want to live you never forget that,” Glatz-Brubakk tells me.

    “And it’s a choice to keep children in these horrible conditions and that makes it a lot worse than working in a place hit by a natural catastrophe or things you can’t control. It’s painful to see that the children are paying the consequences of that political choice.”

    #Greece #Kara_Tepe #Mavrovouni #Moria #mental_health #children #suicide #trauma #camp #refugee #MSF

    https://thecivilfleet.wordpress.com/2021/02/21/living-in-this-constant-nightmare-of-insecurity-and-uncerta

  • Mental health ’emergency’ among child refugees in Greece
    Katy Fallon

    Concerns mount for children who have witnessed violence, a devastating camp fire, and other horrors in Greece.

    Names marked with an asterisk* have been changed to protect identities.

    Lesbos, Greece – Laleh*, an eight-year-old Afghan girl, is one of the thousands of children who live in the new, temporary camp on Lesbos, which was established in the wake of a devastating fire that destroyed the notorious Moria camp last September.

    She is among several children who are currently being treated at a mental health clinic on Lesbos, which is run by Doctors Without Borders (Medecins Sans Frontieres, or MSF), an organisation which has warned of a mental health “emergency” in the Greek island camps.

    Last year in Moria, a camp known for its poor living conditions, Laleh witnessed a violent fight as she was waiting in a queue for food with her father.

    Her mother Hawa*, 29, said that afterwards, Laleh started having panic attacks and became increasingly withdrawn and uncommunicative.

    The child was since hospitalised because she stopped eating. These days, she finds most activities challenging.

    The family now resides in the new camp in Mavrovouni, a dusty patch of earth where everyone lives in tents. The site is strictly monitored and most residents are only allowed to leave once a week.

    “During the day, she just lies down and closes her eyes,” said Hawa.

    A drawing by a child in Lesbos of the perilous sea journey to Europe undertaken by many migrants and refugees [Courtesy: MSF]

    At night, Laleh wears a nappy because she does not always say if she needs to go to the toilet.

    Something as simple as climbing steps can be difficult and feel overwhelming for her.

    “Before she was always drawing and painting,” Hawa said. “She was very hopeful, she wanted to be a doctor in the future.

    “It’s really hard for me as a mother. Laleh never had this problem before. When it started I was so worried and sad, I didn’t know how to manage,” she said. “She doesn’t really speak, she’s very quiet.”

    The fire which reduced Moria to ashes traumatised the family further.

    “Laleh had a psychogenic [non-epileptic] seizure and she fell down, everyone was shouting and running, it was a very difficult time.”

    A drawing by a child in Lesbos depicting the fire which raced through the Moira refugee camp in September [Courtesy: MSF]

    Laleh has had trouble sleeping and so Hawa lies with her and tells her stories, massaging her head in the hope it will soothe her.

    The family has seen some improvement in Laleh’s condition since she started attending MSF’s clinic, but she is still very withdrawn.

    Hawa said the securitised nature of the camp also has an effect on the children who live there.

    It is yet unclear whether the camp is being policed because of the pandemic and fears that the refugees may contract or spread the coronavirus, or as part of an increasingly securitised approach towards camps on the Greek islands.

    “Most of the children are afraid of the police because there are so many police around, it’s very difficult to go out of the camp and the children believe it’s a prison and that they can’t get out,” she said.

    Hawa herself said she views the camp as a “prison”, adding: “I hope that we leave this camp, this is my only hope for now.”

    Refugees and migrants wait to be transferred to camps on the mainland after their arrival on a passenger ferry from the island of Lesbos at the port of Lavrio, Greece, in September 2020 [File: Costas Baltas/Reuters]

    In 2020, child psychologists at MSF noted 50 cases of children with suicidal ideation and suicide attempts.

    “I never imagined it would be this bad,” said Katrin Glatz-Brubakk, a mental health supervisor for MSF on Lesbos.

    She told Al Jazeera they have seen children with severe depression, suicidal thoughts and that many have stopped playing.

    “As a child psychologist, I get very worried when children don’t play at all and we see a lot of that in the camp,” Glatz-Brubakk said.

    “Many of the children have experienced trauma but if they were moved to a [place with] safe and good [conditions] they would start healing from it. Now they get sicker and sicker because of the conditions they live in.

    “We are basically giving them skills to deal with a situation they should never be living in in the first place, it’s not treatment: it’s survival.”

    #Greece #mental_health #trauma #suicide #children #camps #Lesbos #MSF

    https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2021/2/11/children-dont-play-at-all-mental-health-crisis-stalks-lesbos

  • The Asylum Story: Narrative Capital and International Protection

    Obtaining international protection relies upon an ability to successfully navigate the host country’s asylum regime. In #France, the #récit_de_vie, or asylum story, is critical to this process. An asylum seeker must craft their story with the cultural expectations of the assessor in mind. The shaping of the asylum story can be seen as an act of political protest.

    The role of the asylum story within the asylum procedure

    Within a context of increasing securitization of Europe’s borders, the consequences of differentiated rights tied to immigration status have profound impacts. The label of “refugee” confers rights and the chance to restart one’s life. In order to obtain this label, a narrative of the person’s history is required: the asylum story. It must explain the reasons and mechanisms of individualized persecution in the asylum seeker’s country of origin or residence, and the current and sustained fears of this persecution continuing should they return. In France, the Office for the Protection of Refugees and Stateless People (OFPRA)
    is responsible for determining whether or not the person will be granted protection, either through refugee status or subsidiary protection.

    This essay examines the construction of these stories based on participant observation conducted within an association supporting exiles in Nice called Habitat et Citoyenneté (“Housing and Citizenship”, hereafter H&C).

    One of H&C’s activities is supporting asylum seekers throughout the asylum process, including the writing of the story and preparation of additional testimony for appeals in the event of a rejection. Over time, H&C has increasingly specialized in supporting women seeking asylum, many of whom have suffered gender-based and sexual violence. These women’s voices struggle to be heard within the asylum regime as it currently operates, their traumas cross-examined during an interview with an OFPRA protection officer. Consequently, an understanding of what makes a “good” asylum story is critical. Nicole and Nadia, members of H&C who play multiple roles within the association, help to develop the effective use of “narrative capital” whereby they support the rendering of the exiles’ experiences into comprehensive and compelling narratives.
    Creating the narrative while struggling against a tide of disbelief

    The experience of asylum seekers in Nice illustrates the “culture of disbelief” (Kelly 2012) endemic within the asylum system. In 2019, OFPRA reported a 75% refusal rate.

    Rejection letters frequently allege that stories are “not detailed enough,” “vague,” “unconvincing,” or “too similar” to other seekers’ experiences. These perfunctory refusals of protection are an assault in and of themselves. Women receiving such rejections at H&C were distressed to learn their deepest traumas had been labelled as undeserving.

    While preparing appeals, many women remembered the asylum interviews as being akin to interrogations. During their interviews, protection officers would “double-back” on aspects of the story to “check” the consistency of the narrative, jumping around within the chronology and asking the same question repeatedly with different phrasing in an attempt to confuse or trick the asylum seeker into “revealing” some supposed falsehood. This practice is evident when reading the transcripts of OFPRA interviews sent with rejection letters. Indeed, the “testing” of the asylum seeker’s veracity is frequently applied to the apparent emotiveness of their descriptions: the interviewer may not believe the account if it is not “accompanied by suitable emotional expression” (Shuman and Bohmer 2004). Grace, recently granted protective status, advised her compatriots to express themselves to their fullest capability: she herself had attempted to demonstrate the truth of her experiences through the scars she bore on her body, ironically embarrassing the officer who had himself demanded the intangible “proof” of her experience.

    A problematic reality is that the asylum seeker may be prevented from producing narrative coherency owing to the effects of prolonged stress and the traumatic resonance of memories themselves (Puumala, Ylikomi and Ristimäki 2018). At H&C, exiles needed to build trust in order to be able to narrate their histories within the non-judgemental and supportive environment provided by the association. Omu, a softly spoken Nigerian woman who survived human trafficking and brutal sexual violence, took many months before she was able to speak to Nadia about her experiences at the offices of H&C. When she did so, her discomfort in revisiting that time in her life meant she responded minimally to any question asked. Trauma’s manifestations are not well understood even among specialists. Therefore, production of “appropriately convincing” traumatic histories is moot: the evaluative methodologies are highly subjective, and indeed characterization of such narratives as “successful” does not consider the person’s reality or lived experience. Moreover, language barriers, social stereotypes, cultural misconceptions and expected ways of telling the truth combine to impact the evaluation of the applicant’s case.

    Asylum seekers are expected to demonstrate suffering and to perform their “victimhood,” which affects mental well-being: the individual claiming asylum may not frame themselves as passive or a victim within their narrative, and concentrating on trauma may impede their attempts to reconstruct a dignified sense of self (Shuman and Bohmer 2004). This can be seen in the case of Bimpe: as she was preparing her appeal testimony, she expressed hope in the fact that she was busy reconstructing her life, having found employment and a new community in Nice; however, the de facto obligation to embody an “ideal-type” victim meant she was counselled to focus upon the tragedy of her experiences, rather than her continuing strength in survival.
    Narrative inequality and the disparity of provision

    Standards of reception provided for asylum seekers vary immensely, resulting in an inequality of access to supportive services and thereby the chance of obtaining status. Governmental reception centers have extremely limited capacity: in 2019, roughly a third of the potential population

    were housed and receiving long-term and ongoing social support. Asylum seekers who find themselves outside these structures rely upon networks of associations working to provide an alternative means of support.

    Such associations attempt to counterbalance prevailing narrative inequalities arising due to provisional disparities, including access to translation services. Nicole is engaged in the bulk of asylum-story support, which involves sculpting applications to clarify ambiguities, influence the chronological aspect of the narration, and exhort the asylum seeker to detail their emotional reactions (Burki 2015). When Bimpe arrived at H&C only a few days ahead of her appeal, the goal was to develop a detailed narrative of what led her to flee her country of origin, including dates and geographical markers to ground the story in place and time, as well as addressing the “missing details” of her initial testimony.

    Asylum seekers must be allowed to take ownership in the telling of their stories. Space for negotiation with regard to content and flow is brought about through trust. Ideally, this occurs through having sufficient time to prepare the narrative: time allows the person to feel comfortable opening up, and offers potential to go back and check on details and unravel areas that may be cloaked in confusion. Nicole underlines the importance of time and trust as fundamental in her work supporting women with their stories. Moreover, once such trust has been built, “risky” elements that may threaten the reception of the narrative can be identified collaboratively. For example, mention of financial difficulties in the country of origin risks reducing the asylum seeker’s experience to a stereotyped image where economics are involved (see: the widely maligned figure of the “economic migrant”).

    Thus, the asylum story is successful only insofar as the seeker has developed a strong narrative capital and crafted their experience with the cultural expectations of the assessor in mind. In today’s reality of “asylum crisis” where policy developments are increasingly repressive and designed to recognize as few refugees as possible, the giving of advice and molding of the asylum story can be seen as an act of political protest.

    Bibliography

    Burki, M. F. 2015. Asylum seekers in narrative action: an exploration into the process of narration within the framework of asylum from the perspective of the claimants, doctoral dissertation, Université de Neuchâtel (Switzerland).
    Kelly, T. 2012. “Sympathy and suspicion: torture, asylum, and humanity”, Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, vol. 19, no. 4, pp. 753–768.
    Puumala, E., Ylikomi, R. and Ristimäki, H. L. 2018. “Giving an account of persecution: The dynamic formation of asylum narratives”, Journal of Refugee Studies, vol. 31, no. 2, pp. 197–215.
    Shuman, A. and Bohmer, C. 2004. “Representing trauma: political asylum narrative”, Journal of American Folklore, pp. 394–414.

    https://metropolitics.org/The-Asylum-Story-Narrative-Capital-and-International-Protection.html
    #asile #migrations #audition #narrative #récit #OFPRA #France #capital_narratif #crédibilité #cohérence #vraisemblance #véracité #émotions #corps #traces_corporelles #preuves #trauma #traumatisme #stress #victimisation #confiance #stéréotypes

    ping @isskein @karine4 @_kg_ @i_s_

  • Thousands of #refugees in #mental_health crisis after years on #Greek islands

    One in three on Aegean isles have contemplated suicide amid EU containment policies, report reveals

    https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/b1b9c9d90a1caa8f531cc8964d98aa5f334fc711/0_212_3500_2100/master/3500.jpg?width=605&quality=45&auto=format&fit=max&dpr=2&s=22c1d9db8c2a5087

    Years of entrapment on Aegean islands has resulted in a mental health crisis for thousands of refugees, with one in three contemplating suicide, a report compiled by psychosocial support experts has revealed.

    Containment policies pursued by the EU have also spurred ever more people to attempt to end their lives, according to the report released by the International Rescue Committee (IRC) on Thursday.

    “Research reveals consistent accounts of severe mental health conditions,” says the report, citing data collated over the past two and a half years on Lesbos, Samos and Chios.

    Depression, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and self-harm “among people of all ages and backgrounds” have emerged as byproducts of the hopelessness and despair on Europe’s eastern borderlands, it says.

    “As many as three out of four of the people the IRC has assisted through its mental health programme on the three islands reported experiencing symptoms such as sleeping problems, depression and anxiety,” its authors wrote.

    “One in three reported suicidal thoughts, while one in five reported having made attempts to take their lives.”

    In a year upended by coronavirus and disastrous fires on Lesbos – about 13,000 asylum seekers were temporarily displaced after the destruction of Moria, the island’s infamous holding centre – psychologists concluded that the humanitarian situation on the outposts had worsened considerably.

    The mental health toll had been aggravated by lockdown measures that had kept men, women and children confined to facilities for much of 2020, they said.

    Previously, residents in Moria, Europe’s biggest refugee camp before its destruction, had participated in football games outside the facility and other group activities.

    Noting that the restrictions were stricter for refugees and migrants than those applied elsewhere in Greece, IRC support teams found a marked deterioration in the mental wellbeing of people in the camps since rolling lockdowns were enforced in March.

    “Research demonstrates how the onset of the Covid-19 pandemic further exacerbated the suffering of already vulnerable asylum seekers and exposed the many flaws in Europe’s asylum and reception system,” the report says.

    Over the year there has been a rise in the proportion of people disclosing psychotic symptoms, from one in seven to one in four. Disclosures of self-harm have increased by 66%.

    The IRC, founded by Albert Einstein in 1933 and now led by the former British foreign secretary David Miliband, said the findings offered more evidence of the persistent political and policy failures at Greek and EU level.

    Five years after authorities scrambled to establish reception and identification centres, or hotspots, on the frontline isles at the start of the refugee crisis, about 15,000 men, women and children remain stranded in the installations.

    Describing conditions in the camps as dangerous and inhumane, the IRC said residents were still denied access to sufficient water, sanitation, shelter and vital services such as healthcare, education and legal assistance to process asylum claims.

    On Lesbos, the island most often targeted by traffickers working along the Turkish coast, government figures this week showed an estimated 7,319 men, women and children registered in a temporary camp erected in response to an emergency that has been blamed on arsonists.

    Three months after the fires, more than 5,000 people have been transferred to the mainland, according to Greek authorities.

    Of that number, more than 800 were relocated to the EU, including 523 children who had made the journey to Europe alone and were also held in Moria.

    Many had hoped the new camp would be a vast improvement on Moria, whose appalling conditions and severe overcrowding earned it global notoriety as a humanitarian disaster.

    But the new facility, located on a former firing range within metres of the sea, has drawn condemnation from locals and NGOs.

    “The winds hit it, the rains hit it and there’s no shade, which is why this place is unsuitable for any camp to be,” the island’s mayor, Stratis Kitilis, said.

    “It’s right next door to all the warehouses, transport companies and supermarkets that keep Lesbos going. No one wants it there.”

    This month the EU announced it was working with Athens’ centre-right administration to replace the installation with a modern structure that will open next September. New reception and identification centres will also be built on Samos, Kos and Lesbos. “They say it’ll be nothing like Moria and will be more of a transfer stop, but late next year is a very long time,” said Kitilis.

    Kiki Michailidou, the psychologist in charge of the IRC’s psychosocial support programmes on Lesbos, agreed that the conditions were far from dignified.

    As winter approached, camp residents were resorting to ever more desperate measures to keep warm, she said, while also being forced to stand in long queues for food and communal toilets.

    With camp managers moving families into giant tents, social distancing remains elusive. “A lot of people fear the unknown again,” Michailidou said.

    “Moria was terrible but it was also a familiar place, somewhere they called their home. After the fires they lost their point of reference and that has had a significant impact on their mental health too.”

    The IRC report calls for European policymakers to learn from past failings. While the EU’s new pact on asylum and migration is a step in the right direction, it says, it still falls short of the bloc managing migration in a humane and effective way.

    Echoing that sentiment, Michailidou said: “After the fires we saw what could happen. There were transfers to the mainland and children were relocated to other parts of Europe. That’s proof that where there’s political will and coordinated action, the lives of people in these camps can be transformed.”

    #suicide #island #migration #EU

    https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2020/dec/17/thousands-refugees-mental-crisis-years-greek-islands

  • #Lesbos : A #mental_health #crisis beneath the surface

    A mental health crisis among asylum seekers from the former #Moria camp on the Greek island of Lesbos is worsening. InfoMigrants has learned that in the new tent facility, even young #children are receiving psychiatric treatment and medication to deal with ongoing #trauma.

    In the new Lesbos tent camp, 17-year-old Nour from Syria says that when Moria went up in flames in September, she asked her mother to leave her there to die.

    Like a growing number of children and young people in the migrant camps, Nour is taking antidepressants.

    Long-term effects on children

    In the weeks following the destruction of the Moria camp, almost all of the unaccompanied minors – children traveling without a parent or guardian – were transferred off the island. But many children were also left on Lesbos, as well as the other hotspot islands.

    And according to Greg Kavarnos, a psychologist with the medical charity Doctors Without Borders (MSF) working with asylum seekers on Lesbos, children are among those most at risk of suffering long-term mental health effects.

    “Children are resilient and can bounce back, but they are also at a stage when they’re developing their character and their personality,” Kavarnos told InfoMigrants.

    “If they have to go through traumatic experiences at this age, these will then shape their personality or their character in the future, leading to long-term problems.”

    “We’re creating a generation of children that are going to be reliant on psychiatric medication for the rest of their lives.”

    Children in the camp are increasingly feeling a sense of resignation. Seeing their parents trapped and unable to make decisions or take action, they become hopeless, Kavarnos said.

    “If at eight years old a child has already resigned itself, what does that mean when this child becomes 12 or 16 years old? If at eight years old or 10 years old a child has to take psychiatric medication in order for the symptoms to be held at bay, what’s this going to mean later?”

    When a psychiatric problem arises as a result of trauma, if the trauma is not successfully dealt with, the psychiatric problem then becomes chronic, according to Kavarnos.

    “So, what are we doing? We’re creating a generation of children that are going to be reliant on psychiatric medication for the rest of their lives.”

    Karima, from Afghanistan, is also on antidepressants and has trouble sleeping. Most of her family, including her granddaughters, aged two and three, were in a boat from Turkey that sank in the Aegean. They were rescued and brought to Lesbos. For about two years, they lived in the Moria camp.

    Karima’s son; Rahullah tells us: “It was a very bad situation. ... People died, they drank, they killed each other. We didn’t sleep. So now we have mental problems, all of us, just because of Lesbos.”

    Rahullah’s sister F., the mother of the two little girls, became so unwell that she cut herself, says another of her brothers, a softly-spoken law graduate. F.’s husband was murdered in Afghanistan.

    Another young asylum seeker in the camp, Ahmad*, is 25. He travelled alone from Afghanistan to Greece. He says that he has twice attempted suicide, and if it hadn’t been for his friends, he would have gone through with it and succeeded in killing himself.

    Removal the only solution

    The International Rescue Committee, which provides mental health support to asylum seekers on Lesbos, tries to help migrants with counseling and medication. But according to IRC senior advocacy officer Martha Roussou, while some people do improve, “the only durable solution is to remove them from the traumatic space they are living in.”

    No matter how much medication or psychotherapy you give a person, “if they’re constantly being traumatized by their experiences, you’re always one step behind," said Greg Kavarnos.

    “I can’t do anything for the ongoing trauma, the threats of violence, the inability to access simple facilities. I can’t say to the person, ‘it’s okay, things will get better,’ because I don’t know if things will get better for them.”

    *Ahmad is an assumed name

    If you are suffering from serious emotional strain or suicidal thoughts, do not hesitate to seek professional help. You can find information on where to find such help, no matter where you live in the world, at this website: https://www.befrienders.org

    In Greece, a suicide-help line can be reached by telephone at this number: 1018. You can also find more information here: http://suicide-help.gr

    https://www.infomigrants.net/en/post/28086/lesbos-a-mental-health-crisis-beneath-the-surface

  • Coronavirus COVID-19 is excuse to keep people on Greek islands locked up | MSF

    COVID-19-related lockdown measures have had an impact on the lives of everyone around the world and generated increasing levels of stress and anxiety for many of us. However, the restriction of movement imposed in places like Moria and Vathy, on the Greek islands, have proven to be toxic for the thousands of people contained there.

    When COVID-19 reached Greece, more than 30,000 asylum seekers and migrants were contained in the reception centres on the Greek islands in appalling conditions, without access to regular healthcare or basic services. Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) runs mental health clinics on the islands.

    In March 2020, a restriction of movement imposed by the central government in response to COVID-19 has meant that these people, 55 per cent of whom are women and children, have essentially been forced to remain in these overcrowded and unhygienic centres with no possibility to escape the dangerous conditions which are part of their daily life.

    Despite the fact that there have been zero cases of COVID-19 in any of the reception centres on the Greek islands, and that life has returned to normal for local people and tourists alike, these discriminatory measures for asylum seekers and migrants continue to be extended every two weeks.

    Today, these men, women and children continue to be hemmed in, in dire conditions, resulting in a deterioration of their medical and mental health.

    “The tensions have increased dramatically and there is much more violence since the lockdown, and the worst part is that even children cannot escape from it anymore,” says Mohtar, the father of a patient from MSF’s mental health clinic for children. “The only thing I could do before to help my son was to take him away from Moria; for a walk or to swim in the sea, in a calm place. Now we are trapped.”

    MSF COVID-19 should not be used as a tool to detain migrants and refugees. We continue to call for the evacuation of people, especially those who belong to high-risk groups for COVID-19, from the reception centres to safe accommodation.

    Listen to Marco Sandrone, the MSF field coordinator on Lesbos, describe life for people trapped on the islands.

    MSF cannot stay silent about this blatant discrimination, as the restriction of movement imposed on asylum seekers dramatically reduces their already-limited access to basic services and medical care.

    In the current phase of the COVID-19 epidemic in Greece, this measure is absolutely unjustified from a public health point of view – it is discriminatory towards people that don’t represent a risk and contributes to their stigmatisation, while putting them further at risk.

    “The restrictions of movement for migrants and refugees in the camp have affected the mental health of my patients dramatically,” says Greg Kavarnos, a psychologist in the MSF Survivors of Torture clinic on Lesbos. “If you and I felt stressed and were easily irritated during the period of the lockdown in our homes, imagine how people who have endured very traumatic experiences feel now that they have to stay locked up in a camp like Moria.”

    “Moria is a place where they cannot find peace, they cannot find a private space and they have to stand in lines for food, for the toilet, for water, for everything,” says Kavarnos.

    COVID-19 should not be used as a tool to detain migrants and refugees. We continue to call for the evacuation of people, especially those who belong to high-risk groups for COVID-19, from the reception centres to safe accommodation. The conditions in these centres are not acceptable in normal times however, they have become even more perilous pits of violence, sickness, and misery when people are unable to move due to arbitrary restrictions.

    Up Next

    Philippines
    Displaced communities in Marawi living with COVID-19 and ongoing uncertainty

    Project Update 17 July 2020
    Displaced in Marawi living with COVID-19 and ongoing uncertainty
    COVID-19 response in Marawi

    When the number of patients with confirmed COVID-19 began to rise in March 2020, the Philippines quickly put in place strict community quarantine measures. As of July 2020, there has been no local transmission in the southern city of Marawi, showing how these measures appear to have contributed to containing the new coronavirus.

    However, they have also affected the livelihoods of the city’s residents, particularly displaced people living in and around Marawi.

    Marawi is the only city in the Philippines with a Muslim majority in an otherwise overwhelmingly Catholic country.

    Video

    Rocel Ann Junio/MSF

    “From the outset of the public health emergency, residents in Marawi observed precautionary measures very strictly, with the hope that the community quarantine would be lifted by the time Ramadan approached,” says Chika Suefuji, Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) project coordinator in Marawi. “However, the community quarantine continued, and people couldn’t go to their masjid or mosque, which is one of the most important practices during Ramadan.”

    “Some people were understandably upset to learn that they had to observe Ramadan differently this year; some questioned this decision, since only a few cases of COVID-19 infections had been reported in the area,” continues Suefuji. “We discussed this with the community and religious leaders, explaining how the virus spreads. They understood well and put out a statement asking people to follow the safety measures.”

    “This approach helped to disseminate accurate information and convinced a larger number of residents to follow the measures,” says Suefuji. “Overall, people have respected social orders to protect their families and communities, and it has helped contain the virus in the community.”
    COVID-19 brought a lack of access to clean water and healthcare

    While the COVID-19 pandemic has so far not hit the area severely, it has added extra burdens on to the people of Marawi. During the community quarantine, medical consultations at health facilities were suspended. The lack of access to clean water made following the recommendations to contain the spread of the virus particularly challenging.

    Patients suffering from non-communicable diseases, such as hypertension or diabetes, were especially vulnerable to the virus. MSF teams carried out home visits to ensure patients continued to receive their medication and to provide patients with a leaflet about the virus and on how to protect themselves and their families from it.
    Marawi under siege – and then in ruins

    The city of Marawi came under siege in May 2017 by a group related to Islamic State group, which tried to take control of the city, resulting in a conflict erupting between the army and the group. The siege lasted five months and forced around 370,000 people to flee their homes.

    More than three years later, parts of the city still lie in ruins. Around 70,000 people continue to live in harsh conditions in temporary shelters and another 50,000 are estimated to be living in other family members’ houses. They all have vivid memories of the siege. Thirty-four year old Ajibah Sumaleg recalls how her family had to flee their home with only a few days’ notice and returned to find it destroyed five months later.

    Around 200,000 people live in Marawi, which is located in the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao (BARMM), in the south of the Philippines. The region is currently in transition to increase its autonomy from the Philippines. It has long struggled with the weakest health and economic indicators in the country and, since the end of the siege in October 2017, there have been outbreaks of measles, dengue and polio.

    Before 2017, the political situation in the region was unstable, with regular conflicts between various armed groups. However, people there are hopeful that political changes will bring long-term stability and prosperity to the region.
    Displaced living in difficult conditions

    Initially, displaced people were provided with tents, until the evacuation centres and temporary shelters had been built. The last families moved from tents to the shelters only in January 2020.

    Sobaida Comadug, 60, recalls how her husband died of a heart attack when the city was besieged. According to her, the shelters are not much better than the tents.

    “We were told that these would be built to last for five years,” says Sobaida. “Do you think the government will build a longer-lasting shelter? No!”

    Video

    Rocel Ann Junio/MSF

    She has spent all her life in Marawi. She describes the daily challenges which displaced people face.

    Water is lacking, and the temporary shelters are far from the markets. Food is costly. All these factors push people to eat ready-to-eat meals, while doctors recommend healthy food to complement treatment for non-communicable diseases.

    “It is more difficult to cook healthy meals,” says Sobaida. “We are far from the fruit and vegetable vendors, and even if we could reach them, we don’t have clean water to wash them.”

    The limited access to clean water creates hardships.

    “The living conditions of the people are concerning. The water trucking saves lives, but is only a temporary measure as opposed to a long-term solution,” says Chika Suefuji. “I hope that the plight of internally displaced people in Marawi and Lanao del Sur becomes known and that leads to a better future for the people.”
    MSF improves difficult access to healthcare

    During the community quarantine in April and May, families faced tough decisions since most people were not able to work. People had to decide whether to use their money for the family’s food, or healthcare for a sick family member.

    Even before the community quarantine, healthcare was difficult to obtain following the siege. Only 15 of the 39 health facilities in Marawi and the surrounding areas were functioning; the others had been destroyed or were unable to reopen. MSF rehabilitated four health centres after the siege to support communities in Marawi, and began providing clean drinking water and mental health services.

    Non-communicable diseases were responsible for 41.5 per cent of deaths in the BARMM region in 2015. Hypertension and diabetes are among the 10 most prevalent diseases.

    We currently support three health centres in the area, provide mental healthcare, treat non-communicable diseases, such as hypertension and diabetes, and provide free medication.
    A long road back to normal
    34-year-old Ajibah Sumaleg, pregnant with her eighth child, has her high blood pressure checked during a check-up with an MSF doctor at our clinic in Marawi. The Philippines, January 2020.

    Veejay Villafranca

    “It is critical for the people of Marawi, especially patients suffering from non-communicable diseases, that the spread of COVID-19 remains in check,” says Janoa Manganar, MSF medical team leader.

    In the Philippines, surveillance and contact tracing activities for COVID-19 are also conducted at the community level. We have started to train teams in all 72 districts within Marawi city in how to conduct surveillance and contact tracing, and how to share information related to COVID-19 prevention, home quarantine and mental health together with the local health authority.

    People living in Marawi face an uncertain future. The rehabilitation of the area in central Marawi that was destroyed during the siege continues to be a challenge because of the presence of the remnants of war, such as unexploded ordnance, among several other reasons.
    Many still hope that political changes will bring positive change to their futures; however, the reality is that, almost after three years after the end of the siege, many people are still displaced from their homes, living in temporary shelters or in the homes of relatives, not knowing how long this will last.

    The siege and the pandemic added to the worries of people in Marawi, says Sarah Oranggaga. She was forced to move in with her siblings again after having to give up her small corner store in Marawi. She says, “I am okay for now, and we just accept how things are and slowly we’ll overcome this.”

    Up Next

    Belgium
    Left behind in the time of COVID-19

    Report 17 July 2020
    Left behind coronavirus Belgium care homes report
    MSF Mobile Team in retiry home in Brussels

    In our report, Left behind in the time of COVID-19, MSF gives a detailed account of our intervention in nursing care homes in Belgium during the coronavirus COVID-19 pandemic, describing the situation a real humanitarian crisis. The report contains a list of concrete recommendation to avoid the repetition of this drama if a second wave of the new coronavirus hits the country.

    “If we want to be better prepared for a second wave, we need to learn lessons from the past months,” says Dr Bertrand Draguez, President of MSF Belgium and coordinator of the intervention.

    There was a real fear that hospitals would be overwhelmed, as had happened in Italy and Spain, and therefore Belgian authorities focused solely on preserving hospital capacity. As a result, nursing care homes were neglected. They suffered from a lack of protective equipment, material, staff and expertise to fight the pandemic. Consequently, care homes paid a high price: by the end of June, 6,200 care home residents had died of COVID-19, which is 64 per cent of all COVID-19 deaths in Belgium.

    “At the time we did our assessments in care homes, only 54% of them had sufficient personal protective equipment; 64% had a lack of FFP2-masks, and only 42% of the staff doing the laundry had access to proper protective equipment”, said Stéphanie Goublomme, who managed the care home project.

    More than half of the care homes said their staff didn’t have sufficient knowledge about the disease and the risk of infection.

    The possibility to refer patients from care homes to external medical services, most notably hospitals, decreased significantly. Before the crisis, 86% of care home residents who needed a hospital referral were admitted, but this dropped to 57% during the pandemic.

    “Almost a third - 30% - of the care homes we visited told us not even all their emergency calls got an adequate answer,” said Goublomme. “The number of visits by general practitioners to care homes decreased 50%. That’s worrying, because it had a clear impact of the quality of care for the residents.”

    Nursing care home staff were overwhelmed and had to work in extreme conditions, which led to an increase of mental health problems and the appearance of post-traumatic stress symptoms. This was observed in staff as well as residents.

    “There’s no time to lose. We need to tackle the specific problems of care homes in a fast, practical, and effective way, both for the staff and for the residents. This is the only way to avoid that our elderly will again have to pay the price for our indifference,” said Dr Bertrand Draguez.

    #migration #coronavirus #mental_health #Greece #islands #lockdown #MSF

    https://www.msf.org/covid-19-excuse-keep-people-greek-islands-locked

  • #Santé_mentale des #migrants : des #blessures invisibles

    Une prévalence élevée du trouble de stress post-traumatique et de la #dépression

    Les #migrations, les migrants et leur #santé ne peuvent être compris indépendamment du contexte historique et politique dans lequel les mouvements de population se déroulent, et, ces dernières décennies, les migrations vers l’#Europe ont changé. L’#immigration de travail s’est restreinte, et la majorité des étrangers qui arrivent en #France doivent surmonter des obstacles de plus en plus difficiles, semés de #violence et de #mort, au fur et à mesure que les #frontières de l’Europe se ferment. Ils arrivent dans des pays où l’#hostilité envers les migrants croît et doivent s’engager dans un processus hasardeux de #demande_d’asile. Ce contexte a de lourds effets sur la santé mentale des migrants. Ces migrants peuvent être des adultes ou des enfants, accompagnés ou non d’un parent – on parle dans ce dernier cas de mineur non accompagné*. S’il n’existe pas de pathologie psychiatrique spécifique de la migration1 et que tous les troubles mentaux peuvent être rencontrés, il n’en reste pas moins que certaines pathologies sont d’une grande fréquence comme le trouble de stress post-traumatique et la dépression.

    Facteurs de risque

    Pour approcher la vie psychique des migrants et les difficultés auxquelles ils font face, nous distinguerons quatre facteurs à l’origine de difficultés : le vécu prémigratoire, le voyage, le vécu post-migratoire, et les aspects transculturels.

    Vécu prémigratoire

    Avant le départ, de nombreux migrants ont vécu des événements adverses et traumatiques : #persécution, #guerre, #violence_physique, #torture, violence liée au #genre (#mutilations, #viols), #deuils de proches dans des contextes de #meurtre ou de guerre, #emprisonnement, famine, exposition à des scènes horribles, etc. Les violences ont fréquemment été dirigées contre un groupe, amenant une dislocation des liens communautaires, en même temps que des liens familiaux. Ces traumatismes ont un caractère interhumain et intentionnel, et une dimension collective, témoignant d’une situation de violence organisée, c’est-à-dire d’une relation de violence exercée par un groupe sur un autre.2, 3 Cette situation de traumatismes multiples et intentionnels est fréquemment à l’origine d’une forme particulière de troubles appelée trouble de stress post-traumatique complexe. Les nombreuses pertes, deuils et pertes symboliques fragilisent vis-à-vis du risque dépressif.

    Départ et #voyage

    La migration est en elle-même un événement de vie particulièrement intense, obligeant à des renoncements parfois douloureux, déstabilisante par tous les remaniements qu’elle implique. Ce risque est pris par ceux qui partent avec un #projet_migratoire élaboré. En revanche, l’exil dans une situation critique est plus souvent une fuite, sans projet, sans espoir de retour, bien plus difficile à élaborer.1 Vers une Europe dont les frontières se sont fermées, les routes migratoires sont d’une dangerosité extrême. Nous connaissons tous le drame de la Méditerranée, ses morts en mer innombrables.4 Les adolescents venant seuls d’Afghanistan, par exemple, peuvent mettre plusieurs années à arriver en Europe, après des avancées, des retours en arrière, des phases d’incarcération ou de #prostitution. Durant ce long voyage, tous sont exposés à de nouvelles violences, de nouveaux traumatismes et à la traite des êtres humains, surtout les femmes et les enfants.

    Vécu post-migratoire

    Une fois dans le pays hôte, les migrants se retrouvent coincés entre un discours idéal sur l’asile, la réalité d’une opinion publique souvent hostile et des politiques migratoires contraignantes qui les forcent sans cesse à prouver qu’ils ne sont pas des fraudeurs ou des criminels.5 Les réfugiés qui ont vécu un traumatisme dans le pays d’origine vivent donc un nouveau traumatisme : le déni de leur vécu par le pays d’accueil. Ce déni, qui est pathogène, prend de multiples aspects, mais il s’agit d’être cru : par les agents de l’Office de protection des réfugiés et des apatrides (Ofpra) qui délivre le statut de réfugié, par les conseils départementaux, qui décident, avec un certain arbitraire, de la crédibilité de la minorité des jeunes non accompagnés. L’obtention d’un statut protecteur dans un cas, l’obligation de quitter le territoire dans l’autre. Mais raconter en détail des événements traumatiques que l’on n’a parfois jamais pu verbaliser est difficile, parfois impossible. Lorsque des troubles de la mémoire ou des reviviscences traumatiques les empêchent de donner des détails précis, on leur répond...

    #migration #mental_health #trauma #depression #violence

    https://www.larevuedupraticien.fr/article/sante-mentale-des-migrants-des-blessures-invisibles

  • #Santé_mentale des #migrants : une #étude sonne l’alarme

    Une étude réalisée par le Comité pour la santé des exilés (Comede), portant sur la violence, la vulnérabilité sociale et les troubles psychiques chez les migrants, souligne l’importance d’une meilleure prise en compte des questions de santé mentale des exilés et de leur accompagnement.

    « La santé mentale des migrants/exilés constitue un enjeu important de santé publique », alerte le Comede. Dans son étude publiée ce mardi 5 septembre dans le #Bulletin_épidémiologique_hebdomadaire, le Comité pour la santé des exilés analyse les violences qu’ont subies les exilés, leurs conditions de vulnérabilité sociale et les troubles psychiques graves dont ils sont atteints. Et montre à quel point ces trois phénomènes sont étroitement liés. La question est rarement évoquée ; elle constitue pourtant un problème majeur dans les conditions de vie des migrants et leur intégration.

    Hébergé au sein de l’hôpital du Kremlin-Bicêtre, en banlieue parisienne, voilà près de 40 ans que le Comede vient en aide aux personnes exilées, en leur proposant des soins et un accompagnement dans leurs démarches administratives. Le traitement des troubles psychologiques et psychiatriques représente une part non négligeable de son activité. L’étude rapporte ainsi que sur les 16 095 personnes reçues entre 2007 et 2016 pour un bilan de santé, 16,6% affichaient des troubles psychiques graves. Il s’agissait pour les deux tiers de syndromes psychotraumatiques et de traumas complexes, mais aussi de troubles anxieux et de psychoses. Des pathologies lourdes qui se manifestent par des troubles du sommeil, de la mémoire et de la concentration, des idées suicidaires, et qui nécessitent souvent plusieurs mois de suivi thérapeutique.

    Ces troubles psychiques graves constituent ainsi « la première maladie qui affecte les exilés passés par le Comede, bien loin devant le VIH et la tuberculose », indique Arnaud Veïsse, l’un des auteurs de l’étude.

    Violences

    « Chez les exilés récemment arrivés en France, les psychotraumatismes résultent en premier lieu des causes ayant provoqué leur départ, ainsi que des conséquences immédiates de l’exil », remarquent les auteurs de l’étude. Or, 62% des quelque 5 000 personnes reçues en consultation médicale au Comede entre 2012 et 2016, originaires pour la grande majorité d’Afrique et d’Asie du Sud, ont dit avoir été victimes de violence, 14 % de torture et 13 % de violences liées au genre et à l’orientation sexuelle (viols, mariages forcés, excisions…).

    Au-delà des souffrances physiques immédiates, ces violences peuvent provoquer à long terme une vulnérabilité sociale. Selon l’étude du Comede, 98% des personnes interrogées n’avaient pas de logement personnel, 81% étaient dépourvus de protection maladie, 38% ne pouvaient pas communiquer en français, 23% ne pouvaient pas manger à leur faim. Une vulnérabilité sociale elle-même susceptible de renforcer les troubles psychiques. « C’est un cercle vicieux, analyse Arnaud Veïsse : les violences subies sont susceptibles de générer des psychotraumatismes qui peuvent conduire à un isolement social, qui accroît le risque d’être exposé à des violences… » L’étude observe ainsi que les traumatismes complexes, les idées suicidaires, les troubles de la mémoire et de la concentration ainsi que les troubles dépressifs sont plus nombreux chez les personnes en situation de détresse sociale.

    Le cercle vicieux des procédures administratives

    La situation administrative des exilés est également pointée comme pouvant constituer un facteur aggravant. « Les psychothérapeutes témoignent fréquemment de décompensations, de syndromes psychotraumatiques et de dépressions lors de la détérioration de la situation socio-administrative des patients », rapportent ainsi les auteurs de l’étude. Et de préciser : « Les structures de soins spécialisés constatent que les thérapies des personnes déboutées de l’asile sont plus longues. Le rejet de la demande d’asile, qui représente pour certains exilés un déni de reconnaissance des violences subies, provoque la peur d’être reconduit dans le pays d’origine et entraîne le plus souvent une précarisation des conditions de vie (perte d’hébergement, absence de ressources, impossibilité d’exercer un emploi). »

    Or le rejet de la demande d’asile peut être lui-même la conséquence de ces troubles psychiques et de l’incapacité de ceux qui en souffrent à se présenter aux convocations de l’administration, ou à raconter en détail les raisons qui les ont poussés à fuir leur pays. Comment en effet répondre à un interrogatoire ultra pointilleux sur les violences subies lorsqu’on souffre de pertes de mémoire ? Se profile alors le risque d’un autre cercle vicieux : incapables de tenir un récit solide et cohérent, les exilés voient leur demande d’asile rejetée, ce qui provoque une aggravation des symptômes.

    Apparemment conscient de l’ampleur du phénomène et de ses enjeux, l’Office français de protection des réfugiés et apatrides (Ofpra), qui statue sur les demandes d’asile, affirme avoir pris des mesures pour y répondre. Des mesures qui passent notamment par la formation de son personnel et des interprètes.

    Face à un constat alarmant, Arnaud Veïsse du Comede juge donc indispensable d’améliorer l’accueil des exilés en France, et plus spécifiquement l’accès à la santé mentale et à l’interprétariat. Et de déconstruire les idées reçues. « Souvent, les structures de santé publique nous renvoient des patients en disant qu’elles ne sont pas spécialisées dans le soin aux exilés. En réalité, elles manquent de temps et de moyens. »

    #mental_health #migration #France #rapport #Comede #violence #vulnerability #trauma #public_health #BEH

    Rapport : http://beh.santepubliquefrance.fr/beh/2017/19-20/index.html

    https://www.rfi.fr/fr/france/20170905-sante-mentale-migrants-une-etude-sonne-alarme

    • ‘We failed to reach Europe – now our families disown us’

      Most of the West African migrants who fail to reach Europe eventually return to their own countries, but it can be a bitter homecoming. In Sierra Leone, returnees are often rejected by relatives and friends. They’re seen as failures, and many stole from their families to pay for their journey.

      Some readers will find this story disturbing

      Fatmata breaks into sobs when she remembers the six months she spent in slavery as the “wife” of a Tuareg nomad who seized her in the Sahara desert.

      “They call him Ahmed. He was so huge and so wicked,” she says. “He said, ’You are a slave, you are black. You people are from hell.’ He told me when somebody has a slave, you can do whatever you want to do. Not only him. Sometimes he would tell his friend, ’You can have a taste of anything inside my house.’ They tortured me every day.”

      That was only the beginning of the horrors Fatmata, aged 28, from Freetown, Sierra Leone, experienced as she tried to cross West Africa to the Mediterranean. She eventually escaped from Ahmed, but was recaptured by traffickers who held her in their own private jail in Algeria.

      After she and other migrants broke out, Fatmata, deeply traumatised, decided to abandon her dreams of a new life in Europe - and go back to where she started. She applied to an intergovernmental agency, the International Organisation for Migration (IOM), which pays the fares for migrants who want to return home.

      Last December, she arrived back in Freetown, by bus from Mali - after nearly two years away. But there were no emotional reunions, no welcomes, no embraces. Nearly a year later, Fatmata hasn’t even seen her mother - or the daughter, now eight, she left behind.

      “I was so happy to come back,” she says. “But I wish I had not.”

      When she got back, she called her brother. But his reaction terrified her. “He told me, ’You should not even have come home. You should just die where you went, because you didn’t bring anything back home.’”

      After that, she says, “I didn’t have the heart to go and see my mother.”

      Fatmata
      Image caption Fatmata thought she’d be able to pay back the money she stole

      But her family didn’t reject her just because she was a failure. It was also because of how she funded her journey.

      She stole 25 million leones - about US $2,600 at today’s exchange rate, but then worth a lot more - from her aunt. It was money her aunt had given her to buy clothes, that could then be resold as part of her trading business. Her aunt regularly trusted her in that way.

      “I was only thinking how to get the money and go,” Fatmata says, though she adds that she’s not a selfish person. “If I had succeeded in going to Europe, I decided that I would triple the money, I would take good care of my aunt and my mum.”

      But Fatmata’s aunt’s business never recovered from the loss of the money. And - to make things even worse - the theft has caused a rift between the aunt and her sister, Fatmata’s mother, whom she falsely accuses of being in on Fatmata’s plan.

      “I’m in pain, serious pain!” her mother says, when I visit her. “The day I set eyes on Fatmata, she will end up in the police station - and I will die.”

      It’s a story that’s repeated in the families of many of the 3,000 or so Sierra Leoneans who have returned in the last two years after failing to reach Europe.

      At one time, relatives often raised the money to send someone, but there’s less willingness to do that now that stories of imprisonment and death along the route have multiplied. Now, many would-be migrants keep their plans secret, and take whatever money they can, sometimes even selling the title deeds to the family land.

      Jamilatu
      Image caption Jamilatu stole money which had been lent to her mother

      At the headquarters of the Advocacy Network Against Irregular Migration, a voluntary group that helps returned migrants rebuild their lives, all the returnees I meet have stolen from their families.

      Jamilatu, aged 21, who escaped with Fatmata from the traffickers’ prison in Algeria, took a plastic bag of cash worth $3,500 from her mother’s room when she was out of the house. The money didn’t even belong to her mother. It had all been lent to her by neighbours, as part of a microcredit scheme.

      After Jamilatu left, the furious creditors besieged her mother’s house, threatening to kill her if she didn’t return the money. She was forced to flee Freetown for Bo, three hours away in the south of the country, leaving her three other children behind with their father.

      “My mum doesn’t want to talk to me, because of the money,” Jamilatu says. “So since I came back, I haven’t seen her. And I want to see my mum - it’s over two years now that I’m not seeing her.”

      Jamilatu and her mother
      Image caption Jamilatu has been estranged from her mother for more than two years

      I visit her mother, Maryatu, at her new home in Bo, and after a long conversation she says she would like to see Jamilatu again, despite the suffering she’s caused.

      But when they meet, soon afterwards, it’s a short, awkward and almost silent reunion. They embrace stiffly. Then Jamilatu kneels in front of her, asking for forgiveness. Neither looks the other in the eye.

      Afterwards, Jamilatu goes straight back to Freetown.

      “I am the happiest woman on Earth today because I have seen my mum,” she says. But she doesn’t look happy. Her mother has told her they can’t live under the same roof again until Jamilatu has raised the money to repay the creditors.

      It’s hard to see how that will be possible. Jamilatu, like Fatmata, has no job. They both depend on support from Advocacy Network Against Irregular Migration. The group was founded by Sheku Bangura, himself a returned migrant, who lobbies the Sierra Leonean government to do more for returnees - currently there’s very little official support - and tries to give practical help himself. He finds accommodation for those who are homeless, intervenes with the police if returnees get into trouble, and organises basic psychological counselling.

      Sheku Bangura
      Image caption Sheku Bangura has personal experience of the challenges faced by returnees

      “I have had a lot of migrants who have mental problems,” he says. “These young people, they are on the streets, they don’t have place to sleep. It’s not really easy for them.”

      One of those helping out at the Advocacy Network is 31-year-old Alimamy, who set out across the Sahara three years ago, after stealing and selling an expensive water-packaging machine belonging to his uncle.

      One of his two travelling companions died of starvation in the desert. The second drowned trying to cross the Mediterranean in a dinghy. Alimamy ended up in a Libyan detention camp. He was only rescued in November 2017 when the IOM began organising flights from Tripoli to West Africa for those who wanted to go home.

      Emaciated and exhausted, he accepted the offer of a ticket, but he was terrified of the reception he would get. “I was thinking I should not come back to Sierra Leone, because I know my uncle has a very high temper,” he says.

      Alimamy
      Image caption Alimamy’s attempt to reach Europe ended in a Libyan migration detention centre

      Since returning, Alimamy has lived with friends. His elder brother, Sheik Umar, a former professional footballer, says: “We are hearing he is in Freetown, he is suffering. And yet he hasn’t got the guts to face any of us in the family.”

      Sheik Umar says he used to be close to his brother, but if he sees him now, he will ensure he is “arrested, prosecuted and convicted”.

      “If he dies in prison, I will not have any regrets, I am sure no family members will have regret, because of the shame he has put on all of us.”

      He says the water-packaging business Alimamy had been entrusted to run by his uncle could have generated enough money to support the whole family.

      “But he misused that opportunity and all of us are in this mess now… Wherever I go now, people taunt me. Our mother is sick, she has moved to a village. That (business) was the beginning of our hopes. But Alimamy has shattered all of that.”

      Alimamy himself is angry and frustrated. “I have come back home, no impact, just like I’m zero,” he says. “The place where I am living, it’s like a hell for me. The way people look at me, I don’t feel happy. They’re looking at me like I’m not human.”

      Sheik Umar
      Image caption Sheik Umar says his family has suffered as a result of Alimamy’s actions

      The IOM offers migrants who return voluntarily to their home countries in Africa “re-integration allowances” worth up to 1,500 euros (£1,270). The money comes from a 347m-euro fund financed mainly by the European Union. But the allowances aren’t paid in cash. If they were, most people would just use them to repay their relatives. So the IOM pays for goods or services that applicants can prove they need to set up a specific business.

      Alimamy got an allowance to buy a motorcycle to rent out to other drivers to use as a taxi. But after just four months, one of the drivers went off with it and never came back. Alimamy himself had become a victim of theft.

      As for Fatmata and Jamilatu, they never received an allowance because they returned from Mali at a time when some other Sierra Leoneans were abusing the system by catching a bus to Mali, pretending they’d returned from across the Sahara, and claiming the allowance. So everyone returning from Mali lost out, including Fatmata and Jamilatu.

      Awareness raising event organised by the Advocacy Network

      Now, all three returnees take part in “awareness-raising” events organised by the Advocacy Network. They go out on the streets with placards and loudspeakers to warn other young people of the dangers of illegal migration, and urge them to stay in “sweet Sierra Leone”.

      But for them, home is no longer sweet. All three are consumed by feelings of worthlessness.

      Fatmata says: “I have nothing to offer, I have nothing to show. I can’t even go and see my daughter, I only see the pictures, because I have nothing to give her when I get there, so I can’t.”

      Alimamy says the “stigmatisation” he suffers is forcing him to do the opposite of what he says on the streets. He wants to make another attempt to reach Europe.

      “Staying here is like a hell for me,” he says. I remind him of the horrors he experienced on his first attempt, being enslaved, imprisoned, and seeing friends die.

      “Well,” he says, “I have been through that, and I’m sure I could cope.”

      https://www.bbc.com/news/stories-50391297

      #return_migration #Sierra_Leone #Advocacy_Network_Against_Irregular_Migration #Sheku_Bangura #awareness-raising [sic] #stigmatisation #mental_health #trauma #IOM #re-integration_allowances

  • Wie Europa geflüchtete Kinder einsperrt

    Zehntausende werden an den EU-Grenzen festgehalten: in Gefängnissen, die nicht so heißen dürfen. Kinder einzusperren, verstößt gegen internationale Abkommen.

    Unweit der Landebahn des Flughafens Schönefeld endet die Bundesrepublik. Ein Gitterzaun umgibt das Haus, das zwar in Brandenburg steht, sich aber rechtlich außerhalb Deutschlands befindet. Zwei Sicherheitskräfte bewachen die Räume, in denen dicht an dicht einfache Betten stehen. Wenn Familien ohne gültige Papiere die Ankunftshalle erreichen und um Asyl bitten, bringen die Grenzer sie hierher und halten sie so lange fest, bis die Behörden über ihren Antrag entscheiden.

    Im vergangenen Jahr wurde laut Innenministerium neun Menschen die Einreise verweigert, darunter ein Kind, im Jahr 2018 waren es 13 Personen, darunter eine Mutter aus Armenien mit ihrer achtjährigen Tochter sowie ihrem zehnjährigen und ihrem zwölfjährigen Sohn, gibt die Zentrale Ausländerbehörde Brandenburg an. Mit Buntstiften haben sie Herzen und Blumen an die Wand eines Aufenthaltsraums gemalt. Die Zeichnungen blieben, die Familie wurde nach drei Wochen abgeschoben. Anwälte kritisieren diese Zustände als unzulässige Haft für Kinder.

    Neben Berlin-Schönefeld findet das sogenannte Flughafenverfahren in Düsseldorf, Hamburg, München und Frankfurt am Main statt. Auch dort müssen Menschen im Transitbereich bleiben, auch dort soll binnen zwei Tagen über ihren Asylantrag entschieden werden. Wird dem stattgegeben oder brauchen die Behörden mehr Zeit, dürfen die Menschen einreisen. Lehnen die Mitarbeiter des Bundesamts für Migration und Flüchtlinge (Bamf) den Antrag hingegen als „offensichtlich unbegründet“ ab, können die Menschen klagen. So werden aus diesen zwei Tagen leicht Wochen oder Monate, erklärt der Hannoveraner Anwalt Peter Fahlbusch, der seit Langem Menschen betreut, die sich im Flughafenverfahren befinden.
    Abgeschottet von der Öffentlichkeit: das Flughafenverfahren

    Mitte der 90er Jahre entschied das Bundesverfassungsgericht, dass es sich bei dem Festhalten von Menschen im Transit nicht um Freiheitsentziehung im Sinne des Grundgesetzes handelt. Pro-Asyl-Sprecher Bernd Mesovic hält das für irreführend: „Der Gesetzgeber sagt, auf dem Luftweg können die Betroffenen jederzeit das Land verlassen. Wir meinen, das ist eine haftähnliche Situation, und die ist für Kinder sehr belastend.“ Rechtsanwalt Fahlbusch beschreibt die Situation ebenfalls als bedrückend: „Kinder im Frankfurter Transitbereich mussten erleben, wie ein Mitgefangener versuchte, sich im Innenhof zu erhängen.“

    Das Flughafenverfahren findet abgeschottet von der Öffentlichkeit statt. Mitarbeiter der Caritas und Diakonie, die Menschen am Frankfurter Drehkreuz betreuen, sagen zunächst ein Gespräch zu, verweigern es dann aber doch.

    „Das örtliche Amtsgericht meint, die Unterkunft ist jugendgerecht. Nichts davon ist jugendgerecht“, sagt Anwalt Fahlbusch. „Minderjährige dort einzusperren, ist der Wahnsinn.“ In den vergangenen zehn Jahren hat es mehr als 6000 solcher Verfahren in Deutschland gegeben, jedes vierte betraf ein Kind.

    Während das Flughafenverfahren im Transitbereich von Flughäfen durchgeführt wird und sowohl Asylantrag als auch Rückführung umfasst, findet die Abschiebehaft auf deutschem Staatsgebiet statt. Hier werden Menschen eingesperrt, deren Asylantrag abgelehnt wurde und die in ihr Herkunftsland oder in den Staat, in dem sie zuerst Asyl beantragten, zurückgeführt werden.
    Viele Regierungen sammeln wenige Daten

    Fast überall in der EU wurden in den vergangenen Jahren mehrere Tausend Kinder in Haft oder haftähnlichen Zuständen festgehalten. Ob in Polen oder Portugal, in Ungarn oder Deutschland, in Italien oder Griechenland: Wenn Kinder allein oder in Begleitung Asyl brauchen und beantragen oder es ihnen nicht gewährt wird, dann sperren die Behörden sie ein oder halten sie in Lagern fest.

    Das Team von „Investigate Europe“ konnte in den vergangenen Monaten recherchieren, dass die Regierungen damit jedes Jahr vielfach die Kinderrechtskonvention der Vereinten Nationen brechen, in denen es heißt: „Festnahme, Freiheitsentziehung oder Freiheitsstrafe darf bei einem Kind im Einklang mit dem Gesetz nur als letztes Mittel“ verwendet werden.

    Um einen Überblick über das Problem zu bekommen, beauftragte der damalige UN-Generalsekretär Ban Ki Moon einen Bericht, für den eine Arbeitsgruppe um den österreichischen Soziologen Manfred Nowak mehrere Jahre forschte. Das fertige, 789 Seiten umfassende Werk mit dem Titel „UN Global Study on Children Deprived of Liberty“ wurde vergangenes Jahr präsentiert. Die Studie basiert auf lückenhaftem Zahlenmaterial, denn viele Regierungen sammeln nur unzureichende oder gar keine Daten.
    „Ausreisesammelstelle“ am Flughafen Schönefeld.Foto: picture alliance/dpa

    Wie viele Kinder exakt betroffen sind, lässt sich daher nicht verlässlich sagen. Allein in Frankreich waren im Jahr 2017 laut mehreren Nichtregierungsorganisationen mehr als 2500 Flüchtlingskinder in Haft. In Deutschland haben zwischen 2009 und 2019 nach Angaben der Bundesregierung fast 400 Kinder in Abschiebehaft gesessen. Dabei käme natürlich keine europäische Regierung auf die Idee, Kinder unter 14 Jahren der eigenen Nationalität einzusperren.

    Migrationshaft für Kinder sei ein politisch sehr sensibles Thema, sagt Nowak, dessen Arbeitsgruppe feststellte, dass Migrationshaft „nie eine letzte Maßnahme und nie im besten Interesse der Kinder“ sein könne. Fast alle Experten stimmen ihm zu. Nowak fordert, dass jede Form der Migrationshaft für Kinder verboten werden müsse.

    Bei der Namenswahl für die De-facto-Gefängnisse wählen die Behörden Begriffe wie Transitzone, Familieneinheit oder Safe Zone. Als Reporter von „Investigate Europe“ Zugang bekommen wollten, wurden ihre Anfragen in vielen Ländern abgelehnt.
    Minderjährig oder nicht?

    Überall auf der Welt fliehen Menschen vor Bürgerkriegen oder Hunger, viele von ihnen nach Europa. Nicht immer ist klar, ob die Menschen, die kommen, wirklich minderjährig sind oder nicht. Dann müssen sie sich häufig einer Altersprüfung unterziehen. Zum Beispiel Jallow B. aus Gambia. Seit mehr als einem Monat sitzt er in Gießen in Abschiebehaft. Am Telefon klingt seine Stimme hoffnungsvoll. Im Jahr 2018 hatte B. alleine Italien erreicht. Dahin wollen ihn die deutschen Behörden nun zurückbringen. Doch ist das nur möglich, wenn er volljährig ist. „Ich bin im Jahr 2002 geboren, aber niemand glaubt mir“, sagt B. am Telefon. Laut seiner Anwältin setzte das Bundesamt für Migration und Flüchtlinge nach einer Inaugenscheinnahme B.s Geburtsdatum auf den 31. Dezember 2000 fest.

    Während sich das Alter des Gambiers nicht zweifelsfrei klären lässt, musste in einem anderen Fall kürzlich ein Jugendlicher aus der Abschiebehaft im nordrhein-westfälischen Büren entlassen werden. Er konnte nachweisen, dass er noch nicht 18 Jahre alt war.

    Im vergangenen Jahr nahmen Polizisten in Passau die 30-jährige hochschwangere Palästinenserin Samah C. fest. Die Behörden wollten sie, ihren Mann und ihren sechs Jahre alten Sohn nach Litauen abschieben, wo sie erstmals Asyl beantragt hatten. Um das zu verhindern, tauchte der Mann unter. Die Beamten trennten Samah C. und ihren Sohn Hahmudi, der in ein Kinderheim gebracht wurde. Auf Nachfrage teilte die Zentrale Ausländerbehörde Niederbayern damals mit: „Die Verantwortung für die vorübergehende Trennung von Eltern und Kind liegt ausschließlich bei den Eltern.“

    Nach zwei Wochen wurde die Mutter vorübergehend aus der Abschiebehaft entlassen. Mit ihrem Sohn und ihrem inzwischen fünf Monate alten Baby lebt sie in Passau. Doch zuletzt zitierte die „Passauer Neue Presse“ eine Beamtin der Zentralen Ausländerbehörde, die nahelegte, dass die Mutter und ihre Kinder bald abgeschoben werden sollen.
    Europa kritisiert die US-Einwanderungspolitik

    2018 dokumentierten US-Medien, wie entlang der mexikanischen Grenze Kinder unter der Anti-Einwanderungspolitik von Präsident Donald Trump litten. Der ließ die Minderjährigen von ihren Eltern trennen. Europäische Regierungen kritisierten die drastischen Zustände. „Wir haben nicht das gleiche Gesellschaftsmodell“, sagte ein Sprecher der französischen Regierung. „Wir teilen nicht die gleichen Werte.“ Auch der deutsche Regierungssprecher Steffen Seibert mahnte damals zur „Beachtung des Rechts“ und der „Beachtung der Würde jedes einzelnen Menschen“. Das müsste ebenso für die deutschen Behörden gelten. Doch auch hierzulande wird die Würde der Menschen nicht immer geachtet.

    Die Bundesregierung gibt an, dass im Jahr 2018 nur ein Minderjähriger in Abschiebehaft genommen wurde. Dabei handelte es sich um den 17-jährigen Afghanen K., den die Behörden als volljährig beurteilt hatten. Erst nachdem K.s Eltern Dokumente aus Afghanistan übermittelten, wurde er freigelassen. Im Jahr 2009 hatte die Bundesregierung noch 147 Fälle aufgelistet.

    2014 hatte der Europäische Gerichtshof die deutsche Haftpraxis verurteilt und die Bundesregierung aufgefordert, ihr System für die Abschiebung unerwünschter Migranten zu reformieren. Menschen in Abschiebehaft dürfen nicht länger gemeinsam mit Strafgefangenen untergebracht werden. Doch vor allem für minderjährige Geflüchtete gab es in Deutschland keine speziellen Hafteinrichtungen, deshalb „war ein Großteil der bisherigen Abschiebehaft Geschichte, vor allem für Minderjährige“, erklärt der Geschäftsführer des Hessischen Flüchtlingsrates, Timmo Scherenberg. In Hessen waren zuvor nach Bayern die zweitmeisten Jugendlichen festgehalten worden.
    Hinter Gittern und Stacheldraht. Geflüchtete Familien auf Lesbos.Foto: picture alliance/dpa

    Doch auch, wenn es sich nach offizieller Definition nicht um Haft handelt, kann das Kindeswohl bedroht sein. Im vergangenen Sommer stimmten im Bundestag die Abgeordneten dem Migrationspaket der Regierung zu. Seitdem können Familien bis zu sechs Monate in einer Erstaufnahmeeinrichtung bleiben. Die dürfen sie zwar tagsüber verlassen, doch meist befinden sich die Einrichtungen fern der Innenstädte mit ihrer Infrastruktur. Zudem leben Eltern und Kinder hier mit Menschen zusammen, deren Asylanträge abgelehnt wurden und die nun vor ihren Augen aus den Unterkünften abgeschoben werden.

    Ein solches Leben sei eine schlimme Belastung für Kinder, berichten Ärzte. „Wer nicht schon traumatisiert ist, wird hier traumatisiert“, sagt etwa die Psychiaterin Ute Merkel, die Menschen in der Dresdner Erstaufnahmeeinrichtung betreut. Merkel behandelte unter anderem ein elfjähriges Mädchen aus Eritrea, das in Dresden aufgehört habe zu sprechen. Auf der Flucht durch die Wüste sei der kleine Bruder des Mädchens verdurstet. Sie habe begonnen zu schweigen, um sich zu schützen, sagt Merkel. „Das Mädchen hat ihre traumatisierte Mutter nicht mehr ausgehalten, die mit einer Kinderleiche durch die Wüste gelaufen ist.“

    Eine Kollegin Merkels berichtet von dem Fall eines 16-jährigen Tschetschenen, dessen Vater von Milizen erschossen worden sei. Als er in der Erstaufnahmeeinrichtung, die eine „gefängnisähnliche Situation“ darstelle, Sicherheitsmitarbeiter in Trainingsanzügen gesehen habe, sei der Junge wieder mit dem konfrontiert worden, was ihn traumatisiert hatte.

    „Was Kinder brauchen, sind Schutz und Eltern, die sie vor der bösen Welt schützen“, sagt Merkel. Doch in den Erstaufnahmeeinrichtungen neuen Typs, den sogenannten Ankerzentren, würden die Kinder erleben, dass dies nicht möglich sei. „Es gibt keine Privatsphäre, alle müssen gemeinsam essen und duschen. Die Zimmer können nicht abgeschlossen werden.“
    Ankerzentren können sich nicht durchsetzen

    Nahe der Erstaufnahmeeinrichtung in Dresden befinden sich die Büros mehrerer Behörden, darunter das Bamf und die Zentrale Ausländerbehörde, gemeinsam bilden sie als Teil einer Testphase des Bundesinnenministeriums diese neue Form der Unterkunft, das Ankerzentrum. Auf die hatten sich CDU und SPD in ihrem Koalitionsvertrag geeinigt. In Ankerzentren arbeiten mehrere Behörden zusammen, so sollen Menschen in den Unterkünften ankommen, und wenn ihr Asylantrag abgelehnt wird, umgehend abgeschoben werden. Neben Sachsen beteiligen sich auch Bayern und das Saarland an dem Test, nach dem, so hatte es das Bundesinnenministerium gehofft, bundesweit Ankerzentren eröffnet werden sollen.

    Doch Recherchen von „Investigate Europe“ zeigen, dass dieser Plan offenbar scheitert. Lediglich Brandenburg und Mecklenburg-Vorpommern planen ähnliche Zentren. Alle anderen Bundesländer wollen keine solchen Einrichtungen eröffnen – auch aus humanitären Gründen. Aus dem Thüringer Innenministerium heißt es: „Die Landesregierung hält es für inhuman und nicht zielführend, geflüchtete Menschen zentral an einem Ort unterzubringen.“ Die Bremer Senatorin für Integration teilt mit, dass Erwachsene ohne Kinder und Familien weiterhin getrennt werden sollen. „Wichtiger Beweggrund ist das Interesse an der Sicherung des Kindeswohls in der Jugendhilfe.“ Im Klartext: Diese Bundesländer finden die Pläne des Bundesinnenministeriums unmenschlich und falsch.

    Sachsens neue Landesregierung will nun die Unterbringung etwas menschlicher regeln. Im Koalitionsvertrag vereinbarten CDU, Grüne und SPD im Dezember, dass Familien nur noch drei Monate in den Unterkünften bleiben sollten. Doch Kinder- und Jugendpsychiaterin Merkel hält diesen Schritt nicht für ausreichend. „Es ist nicht ratsam, dort Kinder auch nur für drei Monate unterzubringen.“ Denn es bleibe dabei, die Grundbedürfnisse für eine gesunde Entwicklung seien nicht erfüllt.
    Experten: Die Lage an den EU-Außengrenzen ist furchtbar

    In Deutschland ist die Situation besorgniserregend, an den Außengrenzen der Europäischen Union ist sie noch schlimmer.

    Kurz vor Weihnachten in Marseille unweit des Hafens, der Frankreich mit der Welt verbindet, erzählt der 16-jährige Ahmad*, wie er aus Nordafrika hierherkam. „Meine Eltern starben vor sechs Jahren. Meine Tante misshandelte mich. Sie ließ mich nicht schlafen, nicht essen. Ich musste weg.“ Versteckt an Bord eines Containerschiffes reiste er nach Marseille. Doch statt in Sicherheit kam er ins Gefängnis. Das heißt hier Wartezone. Ahmad, so erzählt er es, habe dort mehr als zwei Wochen bleiben müssen. „Das kam mir vor wie 15 Jahre. Ich wusste nicht mehr, welcher Wochentag war.“ Das Gebäude habe er nicht verlassen können. „Die Polizei sprach nicht mit mir, keiner kümmerte sich um mich.“ Dann sei er freigekommen: „Wenn du das Gefängnis verlässt, fühlt sich das an, als ob du endlich Licht siehst.“
    Griechische Inseln mit großen Flüchtlingslagern.Grafik: Fabian Bartel

    Wenige Tage später, Anfang Januar, beging der 17-jährige Iraner Reza* ein trauriges Jubiläum: Seit einem Jahr darf er die Transitzone in Röszke nahe der Grenze zu Serbien nicht in Richtung Ungarn verlassen. Zäune samt Stacheldraht umziehen das Containerdorf, an dessen Ein- und Ausgang bewaffnete Sicherheitskräfte patrouillieren. Sie wachen auch darüber, dass niemand in das Lager kommt. Reporter von „Investigate Europe“ sprachen Reza am Telefon. Der junge Iraner floh mit seinem Onkel über Serbien hierher, um Asyl zu beantragen. Warum sie flohen, will Reza nicht sagen, aus Angst um seine restliche Familie, die noch im Iran lebt. Ungarische Beamte trennten ihn und seinen Onkel, dieser bekam einen Schutzstatus zugesprochen, Rezas Asylantrag wurde kürzlich ein zweites Mal abgelehnt. „Es ist schwer für mich hier“, sagt der Teenager am Telefon. „Jeden Morgen wache ich auf und sehe dasselbe.“

    Nachts liege er wach, nur am Morgen könne er etwas dösen. Die Wachleute hätten ihn in einen Bereich für unbegleitete Minderjährige gesperrt, seit Monaten sei er dort der einzige Insasse. Jeden Tag dürfe er für wenige Stunden zu den Familien gehen, die in dem Lager leben. „Aber wenn ich zurückkomme, habe ich nichts zu tun. Dann denke ich wieder nach, und zu viel nachzudenken ist wie eine Bombe im Kopf.“
    Provisorische Unterkunft im Camp Moria.Foto: REUTERS

    Die Nichtregierungsorganisation Helsinki Commission schätzt, dass sich in den beiden ungarischen Transitlagern an der serbischen Grenze derzeit zwischen 300 und 360 Menschen aufhalten. Genau weiß das kaum jemand. Zugang haben nur wenige. Darunter ungarische Parlamentsabgeordnete wie Bernadett Szél. Sie sagt: „Es ist sehr schlimm für die Kinder da drin.“ Manche seien krank und bräuchten medizinische Hilfe, die sie nicht bekämen. „Es ist wie in einem Gefängnis.“

    Für ihre Praxis in den Transitlagern hat der Europäische Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte (EGMR) die ungarische Regierung wiederholt verurteilt. Allein seit November 2018 entschieden die EGMR-Richter in 17 Fällen, die ungarische Regierung habe Menschen unrechtmäßig hungern lassen, nachdem diese gegen die Ablehnung ihrer Asylbescheide geklagt hatten. Gewinnen die Kläger ihren Prozess vor dem EGMR, erhalten sie wieder Lebensmittel. Wer nicht klagt, muss weiter hungern.

    Auch im 1000 Kilometer südlich gelegenen Flüchtlingslager Moria müssen Minderjährige leiden. Im Winter klingt hier, auf der griechischen Insel Lesbos, aus den dicht gedrängten Zelten das Husten kleiner Kinder. Sie schlafen meist auf Matten, die vom Boden nur mit Paletten erhöht sind. Auch hier umziehen zweieinhalb Meter hohe Zäune das Lager. An die hat jemand große Plakate gehängt, die wohl den tristen Lageralltag aufhellen sollen. Auf einem davon stolziert ein Löwe, der vorgibt: „Ich bin stark.“ Doch so fühlt sich hier kaum jemand mehr. Die Neurologin Jules Montague, die für Ärzte ohne Grenzen auf der Insel arbeitete, berichtet von Fällen, in denen Kinder wie in Dresden nicht mehr sprechen und ihre Augen kaum öffnen.
    Das Camp fasst 2840 Menschen ausgelegt. Momentan leben dort 19000

    Die Kinder dürfen die griechischen Inseln nicht verlassen. Dabei sind dort die Lager längst überfüllt. Das Camp Moria ist für 2840 Menschen ausgelegt. Doch den Jahreswechsel erlebten dort rund 19 000 Menschen, jeder Dritte ein Kind. Für deren Sicherheit kann kaum garantiert werden.
    Grafik: Fabian Bartel

    In der sogenannten Safe Zone des Lagers, in der unbegleitete Minderjährige leben, erstach im vergangenen August laut UNHCR ein 15-jähriger Afghane einen Gleichaltrigen. Einen Monat später, im September, überrollte ein Lkw einen fünfjährigen Afghanen, berichteten Reuters und der griechische Rundfunk. Und Ärzte ohne Grenzen meldete, dass im November ein neun Monate altes Baby aus der Republik Kongo an den Folgen einer Dehydrierung starb.

    Die Zustände an den EU-Außengrenzen haben offenbar System. Im Jahr 2015 waren mehr als 1,2 Millionen Asylanträge in Europa gestellt worden, mehr als doppelt so viele wie noch im Jahr 2014. Um zu verhindern, dass weiter viele Menschen nach Europa fliehen, unterzeichnete die EU im März 2016 einen Pakt mit der Türkei. Der half in den folgenden Jahren allerdings vor allem den Staaten im Zentrum Europas. Hatten im März 2016 in Deutschland 58 000 Menschen ihren Asylerstantrag gestellt, waren es drei Jahre später nur noch 11 000. Im selben Zeitraum verdoppelte sich in Griechenland die Zahl der Asylerstanträge auf 5300. Für die zentraleuropäischen Staaten ergibt sich so eine komfortable Lage: Wo weniger Menschen ankommen, können diese besser behandelt werden. Für die Staaten an der Außengrenze gilt dies nicht.
    Experte: Zustände in den Flüchtlingslagern dienen der Abschreckung

    Nun übt der Vordenker des Türkei-Deals, der Migrationsforscher Gerald Knaus, offen Kritik an dem Pakt. Er sagte „Investigate Europe“: „Was auch immer die Motivation der EU und Griechenlands ist, sie betreiben eine Politik, die unmenschlich und illegal ist und trotzdem niemanden abschreckt.“ Der migrationspolitische Sprecher der Grünen im EU-Parlament, Erik Marquardt, sagt: „Wir stehen vor der Situation, dass die EU-Kommission und der Europarat von einer erfolgreichen Asylpolitik sprechen, wenn die Zahl der Menschen sinkt, die nach Europa fliehen. Dabei nimmt man dann Zustände wie auf den griechischen Inseln in Kauf, auf diese Weise will man bessere Statistiken erreichen.“

    So sei das Abkommen mit der Türkei längst nicht die einzige Maßnahme, um Flüchtlinge davon abzuhalten, nach Europa zu kommen, sagt Marquardt. „Die europäische Politik versucht, die Situation an den Außengrenzen so schlecht wie möglich zu gestalten, damit die Menschen lieber in Kriegsgebieten bleiben, als zu kommen.“ Alle Staaten Europas seien verantwortlich für die Situation an den Außengrenzen, weil sie diese finanzieren, sagt der frühere UN-Berichterstatter für Willkürliche Inhaftierung, Mads Andenæs und fügt hinzu: „In ein paar Jahren können Taten, die heute als politische Notwendigkeiten betrachtet werden, als willkürliche Haft und grobe Verletzung des Rechts und der Menschlichkeit beurteilt werden.“

    Dass Migrationshaft für Kinder unumgänglich sei, gibt EU-Migrationskommissar Dimitris Avramopoulos indirekt auch zu. So sagte er „Investigate Europe“ zwar, dass sich die EU-Mitgliedsstaaten um Haftalternativen kümmern sollten. Wo es diese aber noch nicht gebe, sei es notwendig, Kinder in Gewahrsam zu nehmen, „um die Verpflichtung zu erfüllen, alle notwendigen Maßnahmen zu ergreifen, eine Rückführung zu ermöglichen“.
    Geflüchtete Kinder auf Lesbos.Foto: Sebastian Wells/Ostkreuz

    An einem Herbsttag an der ungarisch-serbischen Grenze im Flüchtlingslager Röszke schlägt der zehnjährige Armin mit den Armen, als wolle er fliegen. Sein Vater, der iranische Regisseur Abouzar Soltani, filmt seinen Jungen dabei. Es wäre eine Szene voller Leichtigkeit, wäre da nicht der Stacheldraht, der hinter beiden in den Himmel ragt. „Ich wollte die Träume meines Sohnes wahr werden lassen“, sagt Soltani über die Aufnahmen später.

    Der Vater und sein zehnjähriger Sohn leben in dem eingezäunten Containerdorf, das sie nicht verlassen dürfen. Wie den 17-jährigen Iraner Reza hält die ungarische Regierung die beiden fest – und das inzwischen seit über einem Jahr. Kontaktleuten gelang es, Soltanis Aufnahmen aus dem Lager zu bringen. Sie zeigen auch, wie Armin im kargen Bett auf einer dünnen Matratze liegt, wie er Fische ans Fenster malt. Einfach wegfliegen, das ist für ihn nur ein Spiel.

    Für die Hilfsorganisation Ärzte ohne Grenzen betreut die Psychologin Danae Papadopoulou Kinder, die in Moria leben. „Das Camp ist nicht sicher für Kinder und die Situation wird immer schlimmer“, sagt sie. Viele Kinder könnten das Leben im Lager zwischen den dicht gedrängten Zelten, die Kälte und die Hoffnungslosigkeit nicht mehr ertragen. „Wir hatten zuletzt einige Notfälle, in denen Kinder und Heranwachsende versucht haben, sich aus Schock und Panik zu töten.“

    * Die vollständigen Namen sind der Redaktion bekannt.

    https://www.tagesspiegel.de/gesellschaft/ich-wusste-nicht-mehr-welcher-wochentag-war-wie-europa-gefluechtete-kinder-einsperrt/25406306.html

    #migration #asylum #children #minors #detention #Europe #Germany #BAMF #Berlin #Schönfeld #Düsseldorf #Hamburg #München #Frankfurt #deportation #trauma #traumatization #retraumatization #mental_health

    #Flughafenverahren (= term for detention procedure at German airports)

    German terms for child/minor/family airport detention zone : #Transitzone #Familieneinheit #Safe_Zone [sic]

    @cdb_77 , y a-t-il un fil sur la détation des personnen mineures ?

    • Children Deprived of Liberty - The United Nations Global Study

      Children deprived of liberty remain an invisible and forgotten group in society notwithstanding the increasing evidence of these children being in fact victims of further human rights violations. Countless children are placed in inhuman conditions and in adult facilities – in clear violation of their human rights - where they are at high risk of violence, rape and sexual assault, including acts of torture and cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.

      Children are being detained at a younger and younger age and held for longer periods of time. The personal cost to these children is immeasurable in terms of the destructive impact on their physical and mental development, and on their ability to lead healthy and constructive lives in society.

      The associated financial costs to governments can also have a negative impact on national budgets and can become a financial drain when their human rights obligations are not upheld with regard children deprived of liberty.

      To address this situation, in December 2014 the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) adopted its Child Rights Resolution (A/RES/69/157), inviting the United Nations Secretary-General (SG) to commission an in-depth global study on children deprived of liberty (§ 52.d). On 25 October 2016, the Secretary General welcomed the appointment of Professor Manfred Nowak as Independent Expert to lead the Study. By Resolution 72/245, the UNGA invited the Independent Expert to submit a final report on the Study during its seventy-fourth session in September 2019.

      Based on the over-all mandate established by the UNGA Resolution, the following core objectives of the Global Study have been identified:

      Assess the magnitude of the phenomenon of children being deprived of liberty, including the number of children deprived of liberty (disaggregated by age, gender and nationality), as well as the reasons invoked, the root-causes, type and length of deprivation of liberty and places of detention;

      Document promising practices and capture the view and experiences of children to inform the recommendations that the Global Study will present;

      Promote a change in stigmatizing attitudes and behaviour towards children at risk of being, or who are, deprived of liberty;

      Provide recommendations for law, policy and practice to safeguard the human rights of the children concerned, and significantly reduce the number of children deprived of liberty through effective non-custodial alternatives, guided by the international human rights framework.

      –-> Full study here:
      https://www.ohchr.org/EN/HRBodies/CRC/StudyChildrenDeprivedLiberty/Pages/Index.aspx

    • How Europe detains minor migrants

      Under international and European law, migrant children should be given protection and humanitarian assistance. Detention must only be used as a last resort. But how do European governments really treat this most vulnerable group? Our new investigation shows that migrant children are detained en masse, with seemingly little regard for their well-being.

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_Tyey4aFEk&


      feature=youtu.be

  • La vie de désespoir des réfugiés relégués par l’Australie sur une île du Pacifique

    La femme du Somalien Khadar Hrisi a tenté plusieurs fois de se suicider. R, une Iranienne de 12 ans, a voulu s’immoler par le feu : à Nauru, minuscule caillou du Pacifique, des réfugiés relégués par l’Australie racontent à l’AFP une vie sans perspective, sans soins et sans espoir.

    Nauru, le plus petit pays insulaire du monde, vient d’accueillir le Forum des îles du Pacifique (Fip) mais a interdit aux journalistes l’accès aux camps de rétention où Canberra refoule les clandestins qui tentent de gagner l’Australie par la mer.

    L’AFP a toutefois réussi à y pénétrer et à rencontrer des réfugiés dont la quasi totalité ont souhaité l’anonymat pour des raisons de sécurité.

    A Nauru, près d’un millier de migrants dont une centaine d’enfants, sur 11.000 habitants, vivent dans huit camps financés par Canberra, certains depuis cinq ans, selon leurs récits.

    Dans le camp numéro 5, que l’on atteint au détour d’un chemin sous une chaleur écrasante, dans un paysage hérissé de pitons rocheux, le Somalien Hrisi veut témoigner à visage découvert.

    Il n’a plus peur, il n’a plus rien. Sa femme ne parle pas, son visage est inexpressif.

    M. Hrisi la laisse seule le moins possible, à cause de sa dépression. Elle a tenté plusieurs fois de se suicider ces derniers jours, raconte-t-il.

    « Quand je me suis réveillé, elle était en train de casser ça », dit-il en montrant des lames de rasoir jetables. « Elle allait les avaler avec de l’eau ».

    – Problèmes psychologiques -

    M. Hrisi affirme qu’ils sont allés plusieurs fois à l’hôpital de Nauru financé par l’Australie mais que celui-ci refuse de les prendre en charge. L’autre nuit, « ils ont appelé la police et nous ont mis dehors ».

    Le camp numéro 1 traite les malades, expliquent les réfugiés. Mais il n’accueille qu’une cinquantaine de personnes car l’endroit croule sous les demandes. Or beaucoup de migrants vont mal et souffrent de problèmes psychologiques liés à leur isolement sur l’île.

    Les évacuations sanitaires vers l’Australie sont rares selon eux.

    Les ONG ne cessent de dénoncer la politique d’immigration draconienne de l’Australie.

    Depuis 2013, Canberra, qui dément tout mauvais traitement, refoule systématiquement en mer tous les bateaux de clandestins, originaires pour beaucoup d’Afghanistan, du Sri Lanka et du Moyen-Orient.

    Ceux qui parviennent à passer par les mailles du filet sont envoyés dans des îles reculées du Pacifique. Même si leur demande d’asile est jugée légitime, ils ne seront jamais accueillis sur le sol australien.

    Canberra argue qu’il sauve ainsi des vies en dissuadant les migrants d’entreprendre un périlleux voyage. Les arrivées de bateaux, qui étaient quasiment quotidiennes, sont aujourd’hui rarissimes.

    Le Refugee Council of Australia et l’Asylum Seeker Resource Centre ont dénoncé récemment les ravages psychologiques de la détention indéfinie, en particulier chez les enfants.

    « Ceux qui ont vu ces souffrances disent que c’est pire que tout ce qu’ils ont vu, même dans les zones de guerre. Des enfants de sept et douze ans ont fait l’expérience de tentatives répétées de suicide, certains s’arrosent d’essence et deviennent catatoniques », écrivaient-ils.

    R, une Iranienne de 12 ans rencontrée par l’AFP, a tenté de s’immoler. Elle vit à Nauru depuis cinq ans avec ses deux parents de 42 ans et son frère de 13 ans.

    Les enfants passent leurs journées prostrés au lit. La mère a la peau couverte de plaques, elle dit souffrir et ne recevoir aucun traitement.

    – Essence et briquet -

    Le père a récemment surpris sa fille en train de s’asperger d’essence. « Elle a pris un briquet et elle a crié +Laisse-moi seule ! Laisse-moi seule ! Je veux me suicider ! Je veux mourir !+ ».

    Son fils sort lentement de son lit et confie d’une voix monocorde : « Je n’ai pas d’école, je n’ai pas de futur, je n’ai pas de vie ».

    Non loin de là, entre deux préfabriqués, une cuve est taguée du sigle « ABF » et d’une croix gammée. L’Australian Border Force est le service australien de contrôle des frontières, honni par les réfugiés.

    Ces derniers se déplacent librement sur l’île car la prison, ce sont ses 21 kilomètres carrés.

    Khadar reçoit un ami, un ancien gardien de buts professionnel camerounais qui raconte avoir secouru un voisin en train de se pendre. Son meilleur ami a été retrouvé mort, le nez et les yeux pleins de sang, sans qu’il sache la cause du décès.

    Pas de perspectives, et pas de soins. Au grand désespoir d’Ahmd Anmesharif, un Birman dont les yeux coulent en permanence. Il explique souffrir aussi du cœur et passe ses journées sur un fauteuil en mousse moisie, à regarder la route.

    Les défenseurs des droits dénoncent des conditions effroyables et font état d’accusations d’agressions sexuelles et d’abus physiques.

    Les autorités de l’île démentent. Les réfugiés « mènent leur vie normalement, comme les autres Nauruans (...) on est très heureux de vivre ensemble », assurait ainsi lors du Fip le président de Nauru, Baron Waqa.

    Mais les réfugiés soutiennent que leurs relations avec les Nauruans se détériorent.

    « Ils nous frappent toujours, ils nous lancent toujours des pierres », accuse l’adolescent iranien.

    – Economie sous perfusion -

    Un autre Iranien, un mécanicien qui a réussi à monter un petit commerce, crie sa colère. Il vient de se faire voler « la caisse, les motos, les outils ». « La police ne retrouve jamais rien quand ce sont les Nauruans qui volent les réfugiés », assène-t-il.

    Si les conditions sont vétustes dans les camps, où la plupart des logements sont des préfabriqués, beaucoup d’habitants de Nauru semblent vivre dans des conditions plus précaires encore.

    Bon nombre habitent des cabanes de tôle, les plages sont jonchées de détritus. Ils disent ne pas comprendre de quoi se plaignent les migrants.

    En attendant, les camps sont cruciaux pour l’économie de l’île, exsangue depuis l’épuisement des réserves de phosphate qui avait contribué à l’opulence du siècle dernier.

    Selon les chiffres australiens, les recettes publiques sont passées de 20 à 115 millions de dollars australiens (12 à 72 millions d’euros) entre 2010-2011 et 2015-2016, essentiellement grâce aux subventions australiennes liées aux camps.

    « Si on enlève les réfugiés, Nauru est morte : c’est pour ça que le président tient à ce que nous restions », juge le Camerounais.

    Mais tous les réfugiés rencontrés souhaitent partir, n’importe où pour certains.

    « Au XXIe siècle, les gens pensent en secondes, en instants. Le gouvernement australien a volé cinq ans de notre vie... qui s’en soucie ? », regrette le père de la petite Iranienne.


    https://actu.orange.fr/monde/la-vie-de-desespoir-des-refugies-relegues-par-l-australie-sur-une-ile-du-pacifique-CNT0000016r391/photos/un-refugie-du-sri-lanka-a-anibare-sur-l-ile-de-nauru-dans-le-pacifique-l
    #Nauru #externalisation #asile #migrations #réfugiés #Australie #photographie
    via @marty
    cc @reka

    • The #Nauru Experience: Zero-Tolerance Immigration and #Suicidal_Children

      A recent visit to Nauru revealed the effects of Australia’s offshore #detention_policy and its impact on #mental_health.

      The Krishnalingam family on the roof of an abandoned mansion in Ronave, Nauru. The family applied for resettlement in the #United_States after fleeing Sri Lanka and being certified as #refugees.

      CreditCreditMridula Amin

      TOPSIDE, Nauru — She was 3 years old when she arrived on Nauru, a child fleeing war in #Sri_Lanka. Now, Sajeenthana is 8.

      Her gaze is vacant. Sometimes she punches adults. And she talks about dying with ease.

      “Yesterday I cut my hand,” she said in an interview here on the remote Pacific island where she was sent by the Australian government after being caught at sea. She pointed to a scar on her arm.

      “One day I will kill myself,” she said. “Wait and see, when I find the knife. I don’t care about my body. ”

      Her father tried to calm her, but she twisted away. “It is the same as if I was in war, or here,” he said.

      Sajeenthana is one of more than 3,000 refugees and asylum seekers who have been sent to Australia’s offshore #detention_centers since 2013. No other Australian policy has been so widely condemned by the world’s human rights activists nor so strongly defended by the country’s leaders, who have long argued it saves lives by deterring smugglers and migrants.

      Now, though, the desperation has reached a new level — in part because of the United States.

      Sajeenthana and her father are among the dozens of refugees on Nauru who had been expecting to be moved as part of an Obama-era deal that President #Trump reluctantly agreed to honor, allowing resettlement for up to 1,250 refugees from Australia’s offshore camps.

      So far, according to American officials, about 430 refugees from the camps have been resettled in the United States — but at least 70 people were rejected over the past few months.

      That includes Sajeenthana and her father, Tamil refugees who fled violence at home after the Sri Lankan government crushed a Tamil insurgency.

      Sajeenthana, 8, with her father after describing her suicidal thoughts and attempts at self-harm in September.CreditMridula Amin and Lachie Hinton

      A State Department spokeswoman did not respond to questions about the #rejections, arguing the Nauru refugees are subject to the same vetting procedures as other refugees worldwide.

      Australia’s Department of Home Affairs said in a statement that Nauru has “appropriate mental health assessment and treatment in place.”

      But what’s clear, according to doctors and asylum seekers, is that the situation has been deteriorating for months. On Nauru, signs of suicidal children have been emerging since August. Dozens of organizations, including #Doctors_Without_Borders (which was ejected from Nauru on Oct. 5) have been sounding the alarm. And with the hope of American resettlement diminishing, the Australian government has been forced to relent: Last week officials said they would work toward moving all children off Nauru for treatment by Christmas.

      At least 92 children have been moved since August — Sajeenthana was evacuated soon after our interview — but as of Tuesday there were still 27 children on Nauru, hundreds of adults, and no long-term solution.

      The families sent to Australia for care are waiting to hear if they will be sent back to Nauru. Some parents, left behind as their children are being treated, fear they will never see each other again if they apply for American resettlement, while asylum seekers from countries banned by the United States — like Iran, Syria and Somalia — lack even that possibility.

      For all the asylum seekers who have called Nauru home, the psychological effects linger.
      ‘I Saw the Blood — It Was Everywhere’

      Nauru is a small island nation of about 11,000 people that takes 30 minutes by car to loop. A line of dilapidated mansions along the coast signal the island’s wealthy past; in the 1970s, it was a phosphate-rich nation with per capita income second only to Saudi Arabia.

      Now, those phosphate reserves are virtually exhausted, and the country relies heavily on Australian aid. It accounted for 25 percent of Nauru’s gross domestic product last year alone.

      Mathew Batsiua, a former Nauruan lawmaker who helped orchestrate the offshore arrangement, said it was meant to be a short-term deal. But the habit has been hard to break.

      “Our mainstay income is purely controlled by the foreign policy of another country,” he said.

      In Topside, an area of old cars and dusty brush, sits one of the two processing centers that house about 160 detainees. Hundreds of others live in community camps of modular housing. They were moved from shared tents in August, ahead of the Pacific Islands Forum, an intergovernmental meeting that Nauru hosted this year.

      Sukirtha Krishnalingam, 15, said the days are a boring loop as she and her family of five — certified refugees from Sri Lanka — wait to hear if the United States will accept them. She worries about her heart condition. And she has nightmares.

      “At night, she screams,” said her brother Mahinthan, 14.

      In the past year, talk of suicide on the island has become more common. Young men like Abdullah Khoder, a 24-year-old Lebanese refugee, says exhaustion and hopelessness have taken a toll. “I cut my hands with razors because I am tired,” he said.

      Even more alarming: Children now allude to suicide as if it were just another thunderstorm. Since 2014, 12 people have died after being detained in Australia’s offshore detention centers on Nauru and Manus Island, part of Papua New Guinea.

      Christina Sivalingam, a 10-year-old Tamil girl on Nauru spoke matter-of-factly in an interview about seeing the aftermath of one death — that of an Iranian man, Fariborz Karami, who killed himself in June.

      “We came off the school bus and I saw the blood — it was everywhere,” she said calmly. It took two days to clean up. She said her father also attempted suicide after treatment for his thyroid condition was delayed.

      Seeing some of her friends being settled in the United States while she waits on her third appeal for asylum has only made her lonelier. She said she doesn’t feel like eating anymore.

      “Why am I the only one here?” she said. “I want to go somewhere else and be happy.”

      Some observers, even on Nauru, wonder if the children are refusing to eat in a bid to leave. But medical professionals who have worked on the island said the rejections by the Americans have contributed to a rapid deterioration of people’s mental states.

      Dr. Beth O’Connor, a psychiatrist working with Doctors Without Borders, said that when she arrived last year, people clung to the hope of resettlement in the United States. In May, a batch of rejections plunged the camp into despair.

      Mr. Karami’s death further sapped morale.

      “People that just had a bit of spark in their eye still just went dull,” Dr. O’Connor said. “They felt more abandoned and left behind.”

      Many of the detainees no longer hope to settle in Australia. #New_Zealand has offered to take in 150 refugees annually from Nauru but Scott Morrison, the Australian prime minister, has said that he will only consider the proposal if a bill is passed banning those on Nauru from ever entering Australia. Opposition lawmakers say they are open to discussion.

      In the meantime, Nauru continues to draw scrutiny.
      ‘I’m Not Going Back to Nauru’

      For months, doctors say, many children on Nauru have been exhibiting symptoms of #resignation_syndrome — a mental condition in response to #trauma that involves extreme withdrawal from reality. They stopped eating, drinking and talking.

      “They’d look right through you when you tried to talk to them,” Dr. O’Connor said. “We watched their weights decline and we worried that one of them would die before they got out.”

      Lawyers with the National Justice Project, a nonprofit legal service, have been mobilizing. They have successfully argued for the #medical_evacuation of around 127 people from Nauru this year, including 44 children.

      In a quarter of the cases, the government has resisted these demands in court, said George Newhouse, the group’s principal lawyer.

      “We’ve never lost,” he said. “It is gut-wrenching to see children’s lives destroyed for political gain.”

      A broad coalition that includes doctors, clergy, lawyers and nonprofit organizations, working under the banner #kidsoffnauru, is now calling for all asylum seekers to be evacuated.

      Public opinion in Australia is turning: In one recent poll, about 80 percent of respondents supported the removal of families and children from Nauru.

      Australia’s conservative government, with an election looming, is starting to shift.

      “We’ve been going about this quietly,” Mr. Morrison said last week. “We haven’t been showboating.”

      But there are still questions about what happens next.

      Last month, Sajeenthana stopped eating. After she had spent 10 days on a saline drip in a Nauruan hospital, her father was told he had two hours to pack for Australia.

      Speaking by video from Brisbane last week (we are not using her full name because of her age and the severity of her condition), Sajeenthana beamed.

      “I feel better now that I am in Australia,” she said. “I’m not going back to Nauru.”

      But her father is less certain. The United States rejected his application for resettlement in September. There are security guards posted outside their Brisbane hotel room, he said, and though food arrives daily, they are not allowed to leave. He wonders if they have swapped one kind of limbo for another, or if they will be forced back to Nauru.

      Australia’s Home Affairs minister has said the Nauru children will not be allowed to stay.

      “Anyone who is brought here is still classified as a transitory person,” said Jana Favero, director of advocacy and campaigns at the Asylum Seeker Resource Center. “Life certainly isn’t completely rosy and cheery once they arrive in Australia.”

      On Monday, 25 more people, including eight children, left the island in six family units, she said.

      Those left behind on Nauru pass the days, worrying and waiting.

      Christina often dreams of what life would be like somewhere else, where being 10 does not mean being trapped.

      A single Iranian woman who asked not to be identified because she feared for her safety said that short of attempting suicide or changing nationality, there was no way off Nauru.

      She has been waiting two years for an answer to her application for resettlement in the United States — one that now seems hopeless given the Trump administration’s policies.

      Each night, often after the power goes out on Nauru, she and her sister talk about life and death, and whether to harm themselves to seek freedom.

      https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/05/world/australia/nauru-island-asylum-refugees-children-suicide.html