• #Le_festin

    Comment être jeune paysan.ne au Sénégal, au temps où les autorités et entreprises s’accaparent les terres agricoles, se les partagent comme un festin et transforment les paysan.ne.s en ouvriers agricoles ?

    Ce film part à la rencontre des paysan.ne.s sénégalais.es qui se battent contre des superstructures législatives et économiques. De la #pêche à l’#élevage, du Nord au Sud du pays, le schéma apparaît tristement similaire. « On demande aux #jeunes de rester et de travailler ici, mais tout ça ce sont de beaux slogans. Où est le socle pour tout ça ? Si on veut que les jeunes restent, il faut leur laisser la ressource » nous confie un jeune pêcheur sénégalais à Dakar.

    https://zintv.org/video/le-festin-tong-tong

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vYaspnAzOI

    #film #film_documentaire #Sénégal #terres #documentaire #accaparement_de_terres #résistance

    ping @odilon

  • Omar Sosa et Seckou Keita : au-delà des mers et de l’aube
    https://pan-african-music.com/omar-sosa-seckou-keita-interview

    C’est hallucinant comment dès la moindre première note de kora j’ai des frissons et les larmes aux yeux, je sais pas ce que j’ai avec cette instrument, ça fait de l’ASMR je sais pas…

    près leur premier album Transparent Water, les deux musiciens se sont trouvés sur un ilôt de tranquillité, dans une bulle suspendue entre deux confinements, pour réunir leurs racines, le piano et la kora au-delà des mers, entre Cuba, l’Afrique et un monde nouveau à dessiner… L’album Suba, c’est l’Afrique à leur façon. Avec humilité et respect.

    C’est ce voyage magique (avec en guests Jacques Morenlenbaum, Dramane Dembélé, et Gustavo Ovalles), enregistré entre Minorque et Osnabrück en Allemagne, qu’ils nous racontent à deux voix.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BAEcEDyvYLg

    #musique #Omar_Sosa #Seckou_Keita #Cuba #Sénégal #Afrique #piano #kora #chanson #interview #beau

    • C’est hallucinant comment dès la moindre première note de kora j’ai des frissons et les larmes aux yeux, je sais pas ce que j’ai avec cette instrument, ça fait de l’ASMR je sais pas…

      Je ne vois qu’une seule explication : Mory Kanté

  • Covid-19 | EnQuete+
    https://www.enqueteplus.com/content/covid-19-13

    Ouf de soulagement. Le Sénégal fait désormais partie des pays ‘’verts’’, c’est-à-dire les pays dans lesquels aucune circulation active du virus n’est observée et aucun variant préoccupant n’est recensé. L’annonce a été faite, hier, par le ministère du Tourisme et des Transports aériens. Ainsi, les voyageurs en provenance ou à destination du Sénégal ne sont plus soumis aux motifs impérieux qu’ils soient vaccinés ou non. Selon un document officiel publié sur le site du Quai d’Orsay, ces voyageurs ne sont pas soumis aux mesures contraignantes pour entrer ou sortir du territoire français. Les voyageurs non-vaccinés à destination d’un pays vert devront fournir les résultats du test RT-PCR ou antigénique négatif au départ et à l’arrivée, selon les règles du pays de destination. Ils peuvent être soumis à une quarantaine, toujours selon les règles du pays de destination. En provenance d’un pays vert, ces derniers devront également fournir les résultats négatifs du test RT-PCR d’au moins 72 heures exigé avant le départ. Ils ne seront pas soumis à des mesures d’isolement.
    Quant aux voyageurs vaccinés à destination d’un pays vert, ils présenteront la preuve de leur vaccination, le test RT-PCR ou antigénique négatif au départ et à l’arrivée, selon les règles du pays de destination. Ils peuvent aussi être soumis à une mesure de quarantaine. En provenance d’un pays vert, les voyageurs n’auront pas à présenter un test et ne seront pas isolés. S’agissant des autres pays sur la liste des pays verts, on compte des pays de l’espace européen ainsi qu’Andorre, l’Islande, le Liechtenstein, Monaco, la Norvège, Saint-Marin, la Suisse et le Vatican. A cette liste, viennent s’ajouter l’Australie, l’Arabie saoudite, le Bahreïn, Brunei, le Canada, le Chili, le Sénégal, la Corée du Sud, les Émirats arabes unis, Hong-Kong, le Japon, la Jordanie, le Koweït, le Liban, la Nouvelle-Zélande, le Qatar, le Rwanda, Singapour, Taïwan, l’Union des Comores, l’Uruguay et le Vanuatu.

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#senegal#UE#sante#circulation#frontiere#listeverte#variant#tauxincidence#vaccination#test

  • Voyage : Une note de l’Union européenne place le Sénégal parmi les pays « Verts »
    https://www.dakaractu.com/Voyage-Une-note-de-l-Union-europeenne-place-le-Senegal-parmi-les-pays-Ver

    Voyage : Une note de l’Union européenne place le Sénégal parmi les pays « Verts »Seront admis dans l’UE les voyageurs à destination ou en provenance du Sénégal, qu’ils soient vaccinés ou non. Ils ne seront plus soumis aux motifs impérieux pour entrer ou sortir de l’espace Schengen au départ ou à l’arrivée du pays de la Téranga, placé parmi les pays « Verts ».L’annonce est parue dans une note de l’Union européenne (UE). Notre pays fait partie de ceux considérés comme étant des espaces où « aucune circulation active du virus n’est observée et aucun variant préoccupant n’est recensé ».
    Il s’agit des pays de l’espace européen : États membres de l’Union européenne ainsi que Andorre, l’Islande, le Liechtenstein, Monaco, la Norvège, Saint-Marin, la Suisse et le Vatican. S’y ajoutent les pays suivants : l’Australie, l’Arabie Saoudite, le Bahreïn, Brunei, le Canada, le Chili, la Corée du Sud, les Émirats arabes unis, Hong-Kong, le Japon, la Jordanie, le Koweït, le Liban, la Nouvelle-Zélande, le Qatar, le Rwanda, le Sénégal, Singapour, Taïwan, l’Union des Comores, l’Uruguay et le Vanuatu.

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#senegal#UE#sante#circulation#frontiere#listeverte#variant#tauxincidence

  • AIBD - Voyageurs entrants : Les vaccinés dispensés de test - Lequotidien - Journal d’information Générale
    https://lequotidien.sn/aibd-voyageurs-entrants-les-vaccines-dispenses-de-test

    AIBD – Voyageurs entrants : Les vaccinés dispensés de test
    Les passagers vaccinés à destination du Sénégal sont dispensés de test Rt-Pcr, a annoncé hier le ministère du Tourisme et des transports aériens.
    Par Dialigué FAYE – Le ministère du Tourisme et des transports aériens informe de la signature et de l’entrée en vigueur de la circulaire du lun­di 11 octobre 2021 dispensant de test Pcr les passagers vaccinés à destination du Sénégal. La-quelle abro­ge et remplace les circulaires du 1er septembre 2021 et celle 28 sep­tem­bre 2021. Cette décision, expliquent les services du ministre Alioune Sarr, entre dans le ca­dre du « processus gra­duel de le­vée des restrictions pesant sur les voyageurs à destination du Sénégal, consacrant ainsi l’ouverture progressive des frontières aériennes, à travers deux circulaires précisant les conditions de prise de trafic des compagnies aériennes desservant le Sénégal ». En effet, note le ministère du Tourisme et des transports aériens dans un communiqué, « la circulaire 1626 /Mtta/Dg/Anacim du lundi 11 octobre 2021 ren­force la dynamique de levée des restrictions qui pesaient sur les voyageurs à destina­tion du Sénégal. Par conséquent, les compagnies aériennes dont les programmes d’exploitation ont été approuvés par l’Au­torité de l’Aviation civile ou qui disposent d’une autorisation ponctuelle, sont autorisées à em­bar­quer ou débarquer leurs passagers sur présentation d’un test Rt-Pcr Covid-19 négatif datant de moins de cinq jours ou d’un « pass sanitaire » dûment délivré par les services compétents ». Le « pass sanitaire », précise-t-on, « devra attester que les passagers ont reçu les doses requises de vaccin au moins quatorze jours avant la date du voyage. Seuls les vaccins homologués par l’Orga­nisation mondiale de la santé sont acceptés. Toutefois, les présentes dispositions sont sans préjudice des formalités d’immigration et des conditions sanitaires en vi­gueur ».

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#senegal#sante#vaccination#passesanitaire#frontiere#circulation#tourisme#economie

  • Covid-19 au Sénégal : Le ministère du Tourisme et des Transports Aériens informe de la signature et de l’entrée en vigueur de la circulaire dispensant de test PCR pour les passagers vaccinés.
    https://www.dakaractu.com/Covid-19-au-Senegal-Le-ministere-du-Tourisme-et-des-Transports-Aeriens-in

    Covid-19 au Sénégal : Le ministère du Tourisme et des Transports Aériens informe de la signature et de l’entrée en vigueur de la circulaire dispensant de test PCR pour les passagers vaccinés.
    Dans un communiqué rendu public, le ministère du Tourisme et des Transports Aériens informe les voyageurs à destination du Sénégal, de la signature et de l’entrée en vigueur de la circulaire 1626/MTTA/DG/ANACIM du lundi 11 Octobre 2021 dispensant de test PCR, les passagers vaccinés, abrogeant et remplaçant les circulaires N°1386/MTTA/ANACIM/DG du 1er septembre 2021 et la circulaire 1562 du 28 septembre 2021 portant sur un processus graduel de levée des restrictions pesant sur les voyageurs à destination du Sénégal, consacrant ainsi l’ouverture progressive des frontières aériennes."Le Ministère du Tourisme et des Transports aériens du Sénégal, a entrepris depuis le 01 Septembre 2021 un processus graduel de levée des restrictions pesant sur les voyageurs à destination du Sénégal, consacrant ainsi l’ouverture progressive des frontières aériennes, à travers deux circulaires précisant les conditions de reprise de trafic des compagnies aériennes desservant le Sénégal.Il s’agit de la circulaire N°1386/MTTA/ANACIM/DG du 1er septembre 2021 et la circulaire 1562 du 28 septembre 2021.Dans ce sillage, le Ministère du Tourisme et des transports aériens informe de la signature et de l’entrée en vigueur de la circulaire 1626/MTTA/DG/ANACIM du lundi 11 Octobre 2021 abrogeant et remplaçant les circulaires précédentes et dispensant de test PCR les passagers vaccinés. En effet, la circulaire1626 /MTTA/ DG/ ANACIM du lundi 11 Octobre 2021 renforce la dynamique de levée des restrictions qui pesaient sur les voyageurs à destination du Sénégal", renseigne le communiqué du ministère du tourisme et des transports aériens.
    Par conséquent, le communiqué informe que "les compagnies aériennes dont les programmes d’exploitation ont été approuvés par l’Autorité de l’Aviation civile ou qui disposent d’une autorisation ponctuelle sont autorisées à embarquer ou débarquer leurs passagers sur présentation d’un test RT-PCR COVID-19 négatif datant de moins de cinq (05) jours ou d’un « pass sanitaire » dûment délivré par les services compétents.Le « pass sanitaire » devra attester que les passagers ont reçu les doses requises de vaccin au moins quatorze (14) jours avant la date du voyage. Seuls les vaccins homologués par l’Organisation Mondiale de la Santé sont acceptés".

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#senegal#sante#vaccination#passesanitaire#frontiere#circulation#tourisme

  • Land Grabbing and Migration in a Changing Climate: Comparative Perspec
    https://www.routledge.com/Land-Grabbing-and-Migration-in-a-Changing-Climate-Comparative-Perspectives/Vigil/p/book/9781032044262

    This book provides a theoretical and empirical examination of the links between environmental change, land grabbing and migration, drawing on research conducted in Senegal and Cambodia.

    #accaparements #terres #environnement #climat #migrations #Sénégal #Cambodge #livre

  • Data et nouvelles technologies, la face cachée du contrôle des mobilités

    Dans un rapport de juillet 2020, l’#Agence_européenne_pour_la_gestion_opérationnelle_des_systèmes_d’information_à_grande_échelle (#EU-Lisa) présente l’#intelligence_artificielle (#IA) comme l’une des « #technologies prioritaires » à développer. Le rapport souligne les avantages de l’IA en matière migratoire et aux frontières, grâce, entre autres, à la technologie de #reconnaissance_faciale.

    L’intelligence artificielle est de plus en plus privilégiée par les acteurs publics, les institutions de l’UE et les acteurs privés, mais aussi par le #HCR et l’#OIM. Les agences de l’UE, comme #Frontex ou EU-Lisa, ont été particulièrement actives dans l’expérimentation des nouvelles technologies, brouillant parfois la distinction entre essais et mise en oeuvre. En plus des outils traditionnels de #surveillance, une panoplie de technologies est désormais déployée aux frontières de l’Europe et au-delà, qu’il s’agisse de l’ajout de nouvelles #bases_de_données, de technologies financières innovantes, ou plus simplement de la récupération par les #GAFAM des données laissées volontairement ou pas par les migrant·e·s et réfugié∙e∙s durant le parcours migratoire.

    La pandémie #Covid-19 est arrivée à point nommé pour dynamiser les orientations déjà prises, en permettant de tester ou de généraliser des technologies utilisées pour le contrôle des mobilités sans que l’ensemble des droits des exilé·e·s ne soit pris en considération. L’OIM, par exemple, a mis à disposition des Etats sa #Matrice_de_suivi_des_déplacements (#DTM) durant cette période afin de contrôler les « flux migratoires ». De nouvelles technologies au service de vieilles obsessions…

    http://migreurop.org/article3021.html

    Pour télécharger la note :
    migreurop.org/IMG/pdf/note_12_fr.pdf

    #migrations #réfugiés #asile #frontières #mobilité #mobilités #données #technologie #nouvelles_technologies #coronavirus #covid #IOM
    #migreurop

    ping @etraces

    voir aussi :
    Migreurop | Data : la face cachée du contrôle des mobilités
    https://seenthis.net/messages/900232

    • European funds for African IDs: migration regulation tool or privacy risk?

      The first person you meet after you land at Blaise Diagne Airport in Dakar is a border guard with a digital scanner.

      The official will scan your travel document and photograph and take a digital print of your index fingers.

      It’s the most visible sign of the new state-of-the-art digital biometrics system that is being deployed in the airport with the help of EU funding.

      The aim is to combat the increasingly sophisticated fake passports sold by traffickers to refugees.

      But it also helps Senegal’s government learn more about its own citizens.

      And it’s not just here: countries across West Africa are adopting travel documentation that has long been familiar to Europeans.

      Passports, ID cards and visas are all becoming biometric, and a national enrolment scheme is underway.

      In Europe too, there are proposals to create a biometric database of over 400 million foreign nationals, including fingerprints and photographs of their faces.

      The new systems are part of efforts to battle illegal migration from West Africa to the EU.

      ‘Fool-proof’ EU passport online

      Many are still plying the dangerous route across the Sahara and the Mediterranean to reach Europe, but a growing number are turning to the criminal gangs selling forged passports to avoid the treacherous journey over desert and sea.

      There’s a burgeoning market in travel documents advertised as ‘fake but real”.

      Prices vary according to the paperwork: an EU Schengen transit visa costs €5,000, while a longer-stay visa can be twice as high.

      Some forgers have even mastered the ability to incorporate holograms and hack the biometric chips.

      “Morphing” is an image processing technique that merges two people’s photographs into a single new face that appears to contain entirely new biometric data.

      Frontex, the EU’s border guard agency, says 7,000 people were caught trying to enter the Schengen area in 2019 carrying such documents — but it admits the true figure could be much higher.

      Sending migrants back

      Last year, the largest number of travellers with fake documents arrived via Turkish and Moroccan international airports.

      Many were caught in Italy, having arrived via Casablanca from sub-Saharan countries like Ghana, Mali, Nigeria and Senegal.

      A Frontex team responsible for deporting migrants without the correct paperwork was deployed this year at Rome’s Fiumicino Airport.

      It’s the first sign of a new European Commission regulation expanding the agency’s role, which includes access to biometric data held by member states, according to Jane Kilpatrick, a researcher at the civil liberties think-tank Statewatch.

      “The agency’s growing role in the collection of data, it links overtly to the agency’s role in deporting individuals from the EU,” she said.

      Over 490,000 return decisions were issued by member states last year, but only a third were actually sent back to a country outside the EU.

      There are multiple reasons why: some countries, for example, refuse to accept responsibility for people whose identity documents were lost, destroyed or stolen.

      Legally binding readmission agreements are now in place between the EU and 18 other countries to make that process easier.
      There are no records

      But a bigger problem is the fact that many African countries know very little about their own citizens.

      The World Bank estimates the continent is home to roughly half of the estimated one billion people on the planet who are unable to prove their identities.

      An absence of digitisation means that dusty registers are piling up in storage rooms.

      The same goes for many borders: unlike the scene at Dakar’s airport, many are still without internet access, servers, scanners and cameras.

      That, the Commission says, is why EU aid funds are being used to develop biometric identity systems in West African countries.

      The EU Trust Fund for Africa has allotted €60 million to support governments in Senegal and Côte d’Ivoire in modernising their registry systems and creating a national biometric identity database.

      Much of the funding comes through Civipol, a consulting firm attached to France’s interior ministry and part-owned by Milipol, one of the most important arms trade fairs in the world.

      It describes the objective of the programme in Côte d’Ivoire as identifying “people genuinely of Ivorian nationality and organising their return more easily”.
      Data security concerns

      European sources told Euronews that the EU-funded projects in West Africa were not designed to identify potential migrants or deport existing ones.

      A Commission spokesperson insisted no European entity — neither Frontex, nor member states, nor their partners — had access to the databases set up by West African countries.

      But the systems they are funding are intimately connected to anti-migration initiatives.

      One is the Migrant Information and Data Analysis System (MIDAS), a migration database that can send automatic queries to Interpol watchlists to detect travel documents and people possibly linked to organised crime, including human trafficking.

      Connections like these, and the role of French arms giants like Thales in the growing biometric market, has led data protection experts to become worried about possible abuses of privacy.
      World’s newest biometric market

      As Africa becomes the coveted market for biometric identification providers, the watchdog Privacy International has warned it risks becoming a mere testing ground for technologies later deployed elsewhere.

      So far 24 countries on the continent out of 53 have adopted laws and regulations to protect personal data.

      A letter by Privacy International, seen by Euronews, says EU must “ensure they are protecting rights before proceeding with allocating resources and technologies which, in absence of proper oversight, will likely result in fundamental rights abuses.”

      It has published internal documents tracking the development of Senegal’s system that suggest no privacy or data protection impact assessments have been carried out.

      Civipol, the French partner, denies this: it told Euronews that the Senegalese Personal Data Commission took part in the programme and Senegalese law was respected at every stage.

      Yet members of Senegal’s independent Commission of Personal Data (CDP), which is responsible for ensuring personal data is processed correctly, admit implementation and enforcement remained a challenge — even though they are proud of their country’s pioneering role in data governance in Africa.

      For the Senegalese cyber activist Cheick Fall, the charge is more serious: “Senegal has sinned by entrusting the processing of these data to foreign companies.”

      https://www.euronews.com/2021/07/30/european-funds-for-african-ids-migration-regulation-tool-or-privacy-risk

      #biométrie #aéroport #Afrique #étrangers #base_de_données_biométrique #empreintes_digitales #passeports #visas #hologramme #Morphing #image #photographie #Frontex #EU_Trust_Fund_for_Africa #Trust_Fund #Civipol #Milipol #armes #commerce_d'armes #Côte_d’Ivoire #Afrique_de_l'Ouest #Migrant_Information_and_Data_Analysis_System (#MIDAS) #Interpol #Thales #Sénégal #Senegalese_Personal_Data_Commission #Commission_of_Personal_Data (#CDP)

  • Accord entre le #Sénégal, l’Europe et les Etats-Unis pour financer la production de #vaccins à Dakar
    https://information.tv5monde.com/afrique/accord-entre-le-senegal-l-europe-et-les-etats-unis-pour-financ

    Pas trop tôt.

    La construction de l’usine de production de vaccins doit démarrer au plus tard en 2021 et 25 millions de doses de vaccins doivent être produits fin 2022.

    #Afrique #covid-19

  • Dougar & Dakar (Sénégal) : résistance contre des opérations foncières
    https://fr.squat.net/2021/06/20/dougar-dakar-senegal-resistance

    Au #Sénégal, les opérations d’expulsion et d’appropriation de terres par l’État aux dépens des populations sont fréquentes ces derniers mois. Du 28 avril au 1er mai 2021, dans le village de Dougar (à environ 35km à l’est de Dakar), des logements ont été détruits par les forces de l’ordre et la DSCOS (Direction de la […]

    #Afrique #émeutes #expulsion

  • Plus de 90 Maliens rentrent chez eux en toute sécurité à bord d’un vol en provenance du Tchad | Organisation internationale pour les migrations
    https://www.iom.int/fr/news/plus-de-90-maliens-rentrent-chez-eux-en-toute-securite-bord-dun-vol-en-provenan
    https://www.iom.int/sites/default/files/styles/highlights/public/press_release/media/sekou_coulibaly_0.jpg?itok=cIXLa-SH

    Plus de 90 Maliens rentrent chez eux en toute sécurité à bord d’un vol en provenance du Tchad. N’Djamena - L’Organisation internationale pour les migrations (OIM) a aidé 95 Maliens, dont 72 femmes et enfants, à rentrer chez eux depuis le Tchad, en coordination avec les gouvernements du Tchad et du Mali. Les migrants ont embarqué le 1er juin à bord d’un vol spécialement affrété dans le cadre du programme d’aide au retour volontaire de l’OIM. Parmi les personnes qui ont bénéficié de l’aide au retour volontaire se trouvaient des personnes qui ont quitté le Mali dans l’espoir de rejoindre l’Europe mais qui se sont retrouvées bloquées au Tchad, ainsi que d’autres qui ont été plongées dans la précarité socioéconomique en raison de la COVID-19.Le Tchad est une importante plaque tournante de la migration africaine qui attire des centaines de milliers de personnes de tout le continent. Plus particulièrement dans le nord, des milliers de migrants se déplacent pour travailler dans les mines d’or artisanales ou traversent les frontières soit vers la Libye dans l’espoir de rejoindre l’Europe, soit depuis la Libye pour échapper à des expériences traumatisantes.
    Un récent rapport de l’OIM montre qu’entre août 2019 et septembre 2020, plus de 9 700 migrants se rendant en Libye depuis le Tchad ont été observés aux points de contrôle des flux dans le nord. Au cours de la même période, quelque 11 700 autres ont été observés se rendant vers le Tchad depuis la Libye.« Ces périples migratoires peuvent être très risqués car les itinéraires ne sont pas toujours sûrs et les migrants sont vulnérables aux mauvais traitements, notamment à l’exploitation du travail et à l’exploitation sexuelle », explique Jean-Claude Bashirahishize, responsable du programme de protection et d’aide aux migrants de l’OIM au Tchad.
    Confronté à un revenu de plus en plus faible et à des perspectives limitées, Sekou a décidé de vendre son équipement et de quitter le Mali dans l’espoir de rejoindre l’Europe.« J’ai des amis qui avaient fait le voyage et qui m’ont dit comment procéder. Je suis parti du Mali pour rejoindre le Niger, puis l’Algérie et enfin la Libye », raconte-t-il. « En Libye, j’ai payé 300 euros à un « coxeur » [passeur] qui m’a fait monter sur un bateau pneumatique. Mais le bateau s’est crevé en mer et les garde-côtes nous ont ramenés. Je me suis enfui à Benghazi où j’ai travaillé pendant quelques mois pour gagner un peu d’argent. Ensuite, je me suis rendu à Kufra, puis à Faya [nord du Tchad] et enfin à N’Djamena par la route. Quand je suis arrivé à N’Djamena, je n’avais plus rien ». Sekou a été orienté vers l’OIM par l’Ambassade du Mali au Tchad. L’OIM travaille en étroite collaboration avec le gouvernement tchadien depuis 2019 et les missions diplomatiques au Tchad pour élaborer un mécanisme d’orientation par lequel les migrants vulnérables peuvent être rapidement orientés vers des mécanismes de protection appropriés.
    « Les activités de protection et d’aide aux migrants de l’OIM, y compris l’aide au retour volontaire, garantissent que les migrants bloqués et vulnérables ont accès à des moyens sûrs et dignes pour rentrer chez eux s’ils le souhaitent, et pour retrouver leur famille », poursuit M. Bashirahishize. Le vol charter a été rendu possible grâce au Programme régional de développement et de protection en Afrique du Nord (RDPP-NA), un programme phare mis en œuvre en Afrique du Nord pour renforcer la protection des migrants vulnérables, et fournir une aide immédiate et directe telle que le retour volontaire et la réintégration.
    Le programme a aidé plus de 300 migrants bloqués au Tchad à rentrer chez eux en toute sécurité dans plus de 9 pays, dont le Bénin, le Burkina Faso, le Cameroun, la République démocratique du Congo, le Mali, le Niger, le Nigeria, le Sénégal et la Sierra Leone, depuis son lancement en 2019.
    À leur retour, les migrants éligibles peuvent bénéficier d’une aide à la réintégration qui peut comprendre un soutien psychosocial, des formations qualifiantes, une orientation ou une aide en nature pour monter des projets socioéconomiques individuels, collectifs ou communautaires.

    #covid-19#migrant#migration#tchad#benin#RDC#mali#niger#nigeria#senegal#sierraleone#OIM#retour#reintegration#protection#sante#psychosocial

  • Geneviève Goëtzinger sur Twitter : « Mise au point des autorités du #Senegal après les propos tenus sur CNEWS par @ZemmourEric stigmatisant les Sénégalais de France, @aliounetine16 question pour #VincentBolloré : comment faire des affaires avec des États et laisser sur ses chaînes, insulter leurs ressortissants ? » / Twitter
    https://twitter.com/GoetzingerG/status/1398633920007188481

  • #Sénégal, les pirogues de la dernière chance

    Début mars, des #révoltes populaires d’une ampleur inédite ont secoué le Sénégal. Aux origines profondes de cette colère, une situation sociale et économique catastrophique, empirée par la #pandémie. C’est cette même #précarité doublée d’un avenir obstinément bouché qui pousse de nombreux jeunes à prendre la mer en direction de l’Europe, par les Canaries. Un périple trop souvent meurtrier. Des militants et voyageurs sénégalais nous ont parlé de cette #route_atlantique, de ses dangers, et de ce qui pousse tant de personnes à braver la mort.


    http://cqfd-journal.org/Senegal-les-pirogues-de-la

    #cartographie #visualisation #asile #migrations #réfugiés #risques #Afrique_de_l'Ouest #Canaries #îles_Canaries

  • Frontex y España se enfrentan por las operaciones contra la inmigración irregular

    La pugna por el despliegue en África y el creciente poder del cuerpo europeo llevaron a la agencia de control de fronteras a amenazar con su retirada

    Las relaciones entre España y la Agencia Europea de la Guardia de Fronteras y Costas (Frontex) son más tensas que nunca. La pugna por el despliegue de medios materiales y el control de los operativos ha llevado a Frontex a amagar con suspender su actividad en el Estrecho y las islas Canarias ―además del dispositivo que se despliega en cada operación #Paso_del_Estrecho― , según tres fuentes conocedoras del episodio. La decisión corrió el pasado miércoles por los despachos, llegó a comunicarse hasta a los agentes de la agencia desplegados en el archipiélago y amenazó con convertirse en una crisis política. El pasado viernes, Frontex salió al paso con un comunicado desde su sede en Varsovia para atajar rumores y anunciar que renovaba su presencia en España un año más.

    Las tensiones vienen de lejos y son el reflejo de la disputa entre los cuerpos y fuerzas de seguridad nacionales y una agencia europea de fronteras con un mandato extendido. En los planes operativos para este 2021, que se cierran a principios de año, Frontex reclamaba a España mayor control sobre la inteligencia y el acceso a los datos de carácter personal en las fronteras españolas, competencias en materia de investigaciones transfronterizas (como las mafias de narcotráfico internacional) o el despliegue sobre el terreno del nuevo cuerpo de agentes europeos, un personal armado de cuya profesionalidad recelan las policías españolas. La propuesta no gustó a los negociadores. Un mando de las fuerzas y cuerpos de seguridad del Estado considera que aceptar las propuestas de Varsovia supone una “entrega de soberanía” y cree que el conflicto “estallará cuando haya una desgracia”.

    Influencia en África

    La negociación de estos puntos ha estado marcada por otra de las principales batallas para España: el papel de la agencia en las islas Canarias, un enclave desde el que Frontex quiere ganar influencia en África. Actualmente, la agencia trabaja con un equipo de 26 agentes, españoles y extranjeros, que apoyan a la Policía Nacional en la identificación y las entrevistas a los migrantes con el objetivo de desbaratar las redes que les facilitan el viaje. Pero este despliegue tiene una cobertura limitada y el espectacular repunte de llegadas al archipiélago, que ha recibido casi 25.000 personas en los últimos 13 meses, impulsó nuevas negociaciones entre Varsovia y Madrid para lanzar una operación conjunta con la Guardia Civil en Senegal.

    El objetivo inicial era reformular la operación Hera II, un operativo que Frontex y la Guardia Civil ya habían desplegado de 2006 a 2019 en varios países de origen para cerrar la vía migratoria que se abrió durante la llamada crisis de los cayucos. Pero las diferencias entre unos y otros mantienen la iniciativa bloqueada.

    Por un lado, Frontex ―que aprobó un nuevo reglamento en 2019 que le da más autonomía― alega la necesidad de firmar su propio acuerdo bilateral con Dakar para patrullar sus costas, señalan fuentes españolas conocedoras de la negociación. Por otro, la #Guardia_Civil demanda que no haya condiciones para que la agencia colabore con más medios en origen y lo haga siempre bajo su coordinación.

    La Guardia Civil, que ya tiene acuerdos y agentes desplegados en Mauritania, Gambia y Senegal hace más de una década, siempre concentró el mando de las operaciones, las investigaciones y las relaciones con las autoridades locales y no tiene intención de renunciar a ello. “Hemos trabajado en todos estos ámbitos independientemente del decreciente apoyo de Frontex a lo largo de los últimos años porque consideraba esta ruta cerrada”, afirma una fuente española. En definitiva, la agencia con más presupuesto de la UE quiere más poder del que los agentes españoles están dispuestos a darle.

    España trató de plantarse en la negociación de los planes operativos con Frontex: si no hay ayuda de la agencia europea para un despliegue conjunto en Senegal, no se aceptarían las peticiones de mandato extendido de Frontex en territorio nacional, según otra fuente al tanto de las discusiones. Pero finalmente, tras la presión por una posible cancelación de las operaciones, se han aceptado las exigencias de Varsovia. “Es una lucha entre la realidad del terreno y la de los altos cargos que firman los reglamentos en la oficina”, según esta fuente.

    Frontex, que tiene presupuestados 5.600 millones de euros para los próximos siete años ―frente a los 19,2 millones de 2006―, incorporará 10.000 agentes propios para la vigilancia de fronteras y costas. En este contexto de crecimiento, la agencia empieza a demandar más control e influencia sobre las operaciones y no quiere limitarse a ofrecer barcos y aviones. Los agentes españoles, por su parte, quieren el apoyo de la agencia en los países de origen, pero siempre bajo su mando. No quieren ceder espacio ni competencias en un ámbito en el que llevan años invirtiendo recursos propios y experiencia.

    Fuentes europeas reconocen que la incorporación de guardias de Frontex a las operaciones en España “ha complicado la negociación del programa de trabajo para el nuevo año”. El programa debía renovarse, como en cada ejercicio, para entrar en vigor el 1 de febrero, pero las fricciones retrasaron la negociación: España, según fuentes conocedoras de la negociación, pidió cambios relevantes en los planes operativos; la agencia hizo una contrapropuesta, y las autoridades españolas no la aceptaron. El acuerdo no llegó hasta 29 de enero, al filo de que el plan de trabajo no se aprobase y los dos operativos de Frontex en España se quedaran sin base legal para su continuidad. En Frontex aseguran que las operaciones nunca estuvieron en peligro y que la voluntad de la agencia siempre ha sido mantener su presencia en España.

    En una entrevista con EL PAÍS el pasado 4 de enero el propio vicepresidente de la Comisión Europea, Margaritis Schinas, se refirió a los desencuentros entre Madrid y Varsovia.

    –¿Por qué cree que España no ve con buenos ojos la presencia de Frontex?

    – Eso me pregunto yo, por qué Frontex no está en Canarias cuando hay un serio problema y sí está masivamente en el Egeo, con cientos de agentes

    España apoyó desde el inicio, en 2005, la creación y puesta en marcha de Frontex, pero con el tiempo se ha mostrado reticente a implicar a los agentes de la agencia en sus competencias. “España se caracteriza por ser un Estado miembro que ha invertido considerables recursos públicos en operaciones de rescates en el mar además de en el control de sus fronteras exteriores”, afirma el eurodiputado socialista Juan Fernando López Aguilar. “Eso explica que retenga bastante el protagonismo de su papel en fronteras, a diferencia de otros países que han recurrido más a la agencia, como Croacia, Grecia o incluso Italia”.

    La agencia está actualmente bajo una presión sin precedentes, cuando está a punto de convertirse en el primer cuerpo uniformado y armado en la historia de la UE. Las investigaciones cercan a su director, Fabrice Leggeri, sobre el que se han vertido duras críticas por su gestión, la degradación de las relaciones en el seno de la agencia y, sobre todo, por supuesta connivencia con la devolución en caliente de emigrantes en la frontera greco-turca.

    https://elpais.com/espana/2021-02-01/frontex-y-espana-se-enfrentan-por-las-operaciones-contra-la-inmigracion-irre

    Traduction:

    La lutte pour le déploiement en Afrique et la puissance croissante de l’organisme européen ont conduit l’agence de contrôle des frontières à menacer son retrait.
    Les relations entre l’Espagne et l’Agence européenne de garde-frontières et de garde-côtes (Frontex) sont plus tendues que jamais. La lutte pour le déploiement des moyens matériels et la maîtrise des opérations a conduit Frontex à menacer de suspendre son activité dans le détroit et aux îles Canaries `` en plus du dispositif qui est déployé dans chaque opération au-dessus du détroit du détroit ’’, selon trois sources bien informées de l’épisode. La décision a traversé les bureaux mercredi dernier, elle a même été communiquée aux agents de l’agence déployés dans l’archipel et menaçait de devenir une crise politique. Vendredi dernier, Frontex a publié une déclaration de son siège à Varsovie pour arrêter les rumeurs et annoncer qu’elle renouvelait sa présence en Espagne pour une autre année.

    #Frontex #Espagne #asile #migrations #réfugiés #frontières #contrôles_frontaliers #opération_Paso_del_Estrecho #Canaries #îles_Canaries #Mauritanie #Gambie #Sénégal

  • When a migrant drowns, a whole community feels the loss. The hidden costs of Mediterranean shipwrecks on a remote Senegalese village

    On an unknown day in 2015, a shipwreck off the coast of Libya in the Mediterranean Sea took the life of Binta Balde’s second son.

    It was days before the news travelled the more than 3,400 kilometres back to the village of Anambe Counda in the remote south of Senegal where Binta lives and where her son, Demba, had been born.

    No one in the village knows the exact timeline of events. Lives here are ruled by the weather, and the passage of time is marked by the progress of two seasons: the rainy and the dry.

    All anyone can say with certainty is that news of the shipwreck arrived on a Friday, the communal day of prayer for the Muslim majority in the village.

    On that afternoon, grief-stricken cries pierced the normal, low din of neighbours chatting and children playing games. Binta froze. The shrieks came from the mud hut compound next to her own. Something terrible had happened.

    Binta rushed out to see if she could offer help, but before she reached anyone else, Mamadou, her eldest son, blocked her path.

    “There has been an accident,” he said. The neighbours’ son had drowned at sea while trying to reach Italy. But Mamadou hadn’t finished. “Demba was with him,” he said. “They were in the same boat. He died too.”

    Binta dropped to the ground as if she had been shot.

    Invisible victims

    Since 2014, when the UN’s migration agency, IOM, began keeping track, more than 21,500 people have died or disappeared attempting to cross the Mediterranean Sea to Europe. Already this year, almost 300 have perished. The true tally is undoubtedly higher, as some deaths are never officially recorded.

    Thousands more asylum seekers and migrants have died in the Sahara Desert and in Libya. There’s no official count, but IOM estimates the number could be twice as high as the fatalities in the Mediterranean.

    Behind every person who dies while trying to reach the EU are a family and friends – an entire community left to grapple with the impact of the loss. IOM refers to these people as the invisible victims of the humanitarian crisis in the Mediterranean.

    The impacts of the deaths on them are often material as well as emotional, and in places like Anambe Counda – far from the media and public gaze – they normally go entirely unseen.
    Demba

    Anambe Counda is part of the municipality of Pakour. Named after the largest village in the area, the municipality is a collection of 32 hamlets scattered across a vast plain near Senegal’s southern border with Guinea-Bissau. People in the area live on the knife-edge of poverty and are among the most likely in Senegal to migrate.

    Like other young men from Pakour, Binta’s son Demba left to help provide for his family. Demba’s father died when he was young. Polygamy is still relatively common in Senegal, and he left behind Binta, a second wife, and eight children.

    Growing up, Demba helped work the family’s small plot of land. But the family often had to ration food, especially between May and August when the stockpile from the previous year’s harvest ran low. During those months, having three meals a day was a luxury, and buying grain and rice on credit at an interest rate of around three percent was a major financial strain.

    Kolda, the administrative district where Pakour is located, is lush and replete with arable land and abundant water, unlike other arid and semi-arid parts of Senegal. Paradoxically, it is one of the poorest regions of the country. In rural areas, up to 65 percent of people at times lack the food to meet their basic nutritional needs.

    When he was 16, Demba moved to Dakar. Mamadou was already married, so it fell on Demba to leave in search of economic opportunity. Nobody in the family knows what work Demba found, but he was able to send home around $345 per month, split evenly between his mother and his father’s second wife – an impressive sum when the family’s income from the harvest was somewhere between $600 and $800 per year and Senegal’s monthly minimum wage is $94.

    Binta doesn’t know why Demba decided to leave for Europe. Dakar made sense. “After the harvest, there is nothing to do [in Pakour]. This is why he went [to Dakar],” Binta said.

    But Demba’s friends told TNH he wanted more than what his earnings in Dakar could bring. He had seen others who made it to Europe and were able to send more money back to their families. He wanted to build a concrete house for his mother and buy a car. But he didn’t tell Binta his plans because he was afraid she would worry and try to dissuade him. “If I had known it, I would have never allowed it,” Binta said, on the verge of tears. “I heard about the shipwrecks.”

    Demba did confide in Mamadou, who tried to persuade him not to go. But cautionary tales about danger in the Mediterranean were not enough to change Demba’s mind.

    When tragedy struck, news of Demba’s death eventually reached Anambe Counda by phone. A friend from a nearby village was on the same boat as Demba and the neighbour’s son. “He could save himself, but the others drowned,” Mamadou said of the neighbour.

    Demba was 22 years old.
    Frustrations

    Undocumented migration from Senegal to Europe peaked between 2014 and 2017. Over 28,000 Senegalese crossed the Mediterranean during those years, before the movement was curtailed by European policies aimed at restricting migration routes to Libya and reducing departures from the North African coast. Because of the absence of concrete data, it’s impossible to say for certain how many Senegalese died during that period.

    Despite the increased difficulty, the factors pushing people to migrate – especially lack of economic opportunity and disillusionment with seemingly corrupt and ineffective political leadership – haven’t gone away. In fact, over the past year, they have only been exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic.

    As a result, last year saw the revival of the Atlantic maritime route from the West African coast, including Senegal, to the Spanish Canary Islands – considered to be the most dangerous sea crossing for Africans trying to reach Europe. More than 400 people are believed to have died attempting the passage in the last week of October 2020 alone.

    At the beginning of March, the same set of frustrations pushing this upswing in migration also caused protesters to spill onto streets across Senegal, following the arrest of an opposition leader.

    Authorities responded by cracking down, with at least eight protesters killed in the clashes, including a teenager in a village 45 minutes from Pakour in Kolda, where frustrations over years of economic marginalisation and stagnant development are particularly acute.
    La recherche

    The Gambia, shaped like a gnarled finger, cuts through Senegal to the north of Pakour, dividing the Kolda region from the rest of the country and rendering transportation and commerce complicated and costly.

    The municipality – officially home to around 12,500 people, although many births go unrecorded – is on the eastern edge of Casamance, a territory stretching across southern Senegal where a low-intensity conflict between the Senegalese government and a separatist movement has been simmering since 1982. The fighting has not touched Pakour directly, but it has stunted economic development across the area.

    A two-day drive from Senegal’s capital, Dakar, the main village of Pakour has only limited access to off-grid electricity, and most of the surrounding villages have no access at all. There are no hospitals, and people travel from place to place on foot, by donkey, or, less often, on motorbikes.

    Despite the remoteness and economic struggles, walking on the red, dusty roads of the villages, almost everyone has a story to tell about attempting to migrate, or about family members and friends who left for Spain, Italy, or France. Since the 1980s, thousands of young men from the area, like Demba, have left to try to make a living in other parts of Senegal, Africa, and further away, in Europe.

    It is easy to spot which families have members overseas. Most inhabitants live in mud and straw huts with thatched roofs. The amount of millet, grain, and corn stockpiled on the roofs is a sign of comparative affluence: The larger the stockpile, the more likely it is that the family has a relative, or relatives, living abroad. Similarly, the few concrete homes mixed in with the huts are telltale signs of migration success stories.

    These benefits of what people in the villages call la recherche – the search, in French – are readily apparent, and make a tremendous difference when nearly 80 percent of people live in poverty and many families are forced to sometimes make do with one meal per day, mostly consisting of millet.

    The costs of la recherche are less easy to see.

    “We do not know how many people from our municipality died on their way to Europe, in the Mediterranean, in the Sahara, or in Libya,” a local official in Pakour, who asked to remain anonymous as he didn’t have permission to speak to the media, told The New Humanitarian.

    The deaths of people en route to Europe are often shrouded in ambiguity: A family doesn’t hear from a relative who has left for weeks, months, or years, and is left simply to presume the worst. Less frequently, as happened with Demba, a survivor or witness calls someone in the village to relay concrete news of a tragedy.

    The bodies of those who perish are never returned. They disappear below the waves, disintegrate into the sand, or end up interred in distant cemeteries beneath a plaque bearing no name. Without a body, without definitive answers, there is nothing to make the deaths concrete.

    As a result, the tangible benefits of migration continue to outweigh the abstract risks for those who want to leave, according to Seydina Mohamed L. Kane, a senior programme assistant with IOM. “They don’t see the losses,” Kane told TNH. “They don’t see the bodies.”
    Families

    “I cannot count the number of funerals I have officiated of young men who drowned,” Alassane Hane, Pakour’s chief imam, told TNH.

    For 25 years, Hane has been a reluctant witness to the exodus of youth from the municipality. Before they leave, young men often visit his mosque – a low, square building with blue paint peeling off its walls – asking for prayers of protection ahead of their journey. When they die, the imam shepherds their families through the mourning process.

    The fact the bodies are missing doesn’t prevent the community from organising funerals to symbolically acknowledge the loss. The men gather for prayers at the mosque, and the women sit together in the common area outside their huts, shedding tears.

    The time for catharsis and open expression of pain is brief. Families soon have to return to the task of scraping together a living. “It was God’s will,” people repeat stoically when asked about their loved ones who died migrating.

    Still, the pain endures. In private moments, family members sigh heavily, tears streak their cheeks, their body postures break, lives stagnate. It’s hard to move on without closure, and closure is difficult to find without material evidence of loss.

    Death also means there will be no financial lifeline from abroad, and it comes with additional costs. Many families sell belongings and borrow money to finance a relative’s travel to Europe. If the person dies, there’s no return on that investment. It’s also tradition for families to sacrifice animals, if they have them, and to offer the meat to fellow villagers during a funeral.

    Sathio Camara, from one of Pakour’s villages, died in the Mediterranean in 2018. He was 25 years old. He, like Demba, had hoped to reach Italy and send money back to his family. His mother sold one of the family’s two cows to help finance the trip and sacrificed the second for Sathio’s funeral.

    The cows had been a lifeline during difficult times. On top of their grief, Sathio’s loss has made the family even more economically insecure. “I could count on the milk [from the cows], and if we did not have anything to eat, we could sell it,” said Sathio’s mother, Salimatei Camara.
    Widows

    At 19, Ami has been a widow for nearly three years. Child marriage is common in Kolda – twice as common as in wealthier regions of Senegal. Like so many things in the area, the practice is connected to calculations around poverty and survival: Marrying a daughter into another family means one less person to support.

    Ami’s family arranged for her to wed Sathio when he was 21 and she was only 12. She moved into Sathio’s family’s compound, and a year later, when she was 13, she gave birth to a daughter, Mariam.

    For Sathio, finding work in Europe meant the opportunity to provide a better life to his parents, and to his wife and daughter. Ami only attended first grade, but dreamt of giving Mariam a full education – a goal that would require significant investment. As much as he wanted their financial circumstances to improve, Ami did not want Sathio to leave. “I wanted him to go back to school, to stay here with me,” she said.

    Their final conversation was about their daughter. “The last thing he told me was not to sell the groundnuts I had harvested,” Ami remembered. “He told me to keep them and save them for Mariam so that she could eat.”

    After news of Sathio’s death reached the village, Ami returned to her father’s home, but her parents are struggling to provide for her and Mariam. They are thinking of remarrying her to Sathio’s younger brother, Famora.

    If a widow with small children does not have parents to help her, or they cannot afford to support her, remarrying within the deceased husband’s family is seen as the best option. It gives the children some security and ensures they remain in their father’s family. Although the widow has to agree to it, between financial strains and familial pressure, most of the time they feel they have no choice.

    When asked about potentially marrying Famora, Ami shrugs. It doesn’t seem like a realistic possibility. Famora is in Italy. He migrated in 2017 and is undocumented and struggling to find consistent work to send money back home. But if things change and the marriage can take place, what option will Ami have?

    Moussou Sane became a widow at 23. Her husband, Souleymane Sane, was shot and killed on the street in Libya, where violence against sub-Saharan asylum seekers and migrants is rife. “He was handsome,” Moussou said of Souleymane. “He was generous.”

    Their marriage was also arranged when Moussou was 15 and Souleymane was a couple of years older. They had two children, and when Souleymane was killed, Moussou’s family couldn’t afford to take her back in with her kids so she married Souleymane’s older brother, Samba. The two always got along, but the circumstances of the marriage are strained. “You’re forced to do it, so that the children can remain in the family,” Samba said.

    Samba was already married with two children. He worries about being able to provide for them all. “If you don’t have enough resources, you don’t know how to feed them,” he said.

    Publicly, the constant struggle to overcome food insecurity dominates conversation. In private, when interviewed separately, both Moussou and Samba broke down in tears when talking about Souleymane, each wrapped in their own intimate grief.
    Survivors

    Ousmane Diallo watched his friend Alpha Balde drown. “I saw his body,” Ousmane said.

    Alpha (unrelated to Binta Balde) and Ousmane grew up in nearby villages and had known each other their entire lives. The two left Pakour at different times but reunited in Libya. In the spring of 2018, they boarded a rubber dinghy with dozens of other asylum seekers and migrants and set out to sea.

    About 12 miles from the coast, the dinghy started to shake, causing panic among the passengers. “There was an Italian ship nearby,” Ousmane said. “We asked for their help, but they said they could not intervene.”

    Instead, a patrol boat from the Libyan Coast Guard – funded and backed by Italy and the EU – arrived. The Libyans threw ropes into the water. In their panic, people started jumping off the unstable dinghy, trying to grab the ropes. Most didn’t know how to swim – including Alpha, who screamed and sank. He was 21 years old.

    Ousmane wanted to jump too, but a wall of people separated him from the edge of the boat. “I could not move. This is why I survived,” he said.

    It was Ousmane’s third attempt to reach Europe. He had left Pakour in 2015. When he reached Libya, he found work in a bakery and was able to send some money back to his family. But Libya was unstable and unsafe. Each time he tried to leave on a dinghy, he was caught by the Libyan Coast Guard and taken to a detention centre.

    In the first centre, detainees were frequently threatened, beaten, and denied food and water. “We had to drink the same water that was used for the toilet. If you were there, you automatically got sick,” he said.

    After watching Alpha drown, Ousmane was taken to another detention centre where he was haunted by thoughts of the water, screams, and the sight of his friend’s corpse. “I kept thinking about it. I was exhausted. I had to go home,” he explained. “After Libya, your heart changes.”

    Ousmane decided to return to Senegal through an assisted voluntary return programme run by IOM.

    Back in Pakour, he wears a pressed shirt, newer and cleaner than those worn by most men here. It speaks to the money he earned when he left the village. But he also has nightmares he can’t shake off, and has struggled to find his place in the village after returning.

    He is not alone.
    Returnees

    Between January 2017 and July 2020, more than 6,000 people returned to Senegal through IOM’s assisted voluntary return programme.

    In Pakour, there are more than 150 returnees like Ousman. Many got stuck in Libya and were victims of violence and exploitation. Some were kidnapped for ransom. Others were victims of random acts of violence. Almost all are still haunted by their experiences.

    Some of the returnees have started an organisation – Pakour’s Association of the Returnees – that is supposed to help the young men who end up back in the municipality find economic opportunities. The organisation gives small loans at low interest rates to its members to help them buy farming tools and seeds.

    In recent years, the EU has also poured hundreds of millions of dollars into aid projects meant to address the “root causes of migration” through its Trust Fund for Africa. Senegal has received more than €170 million ($206 million) from the fund for projects, including the creation of a controversial national biometric identity database that critics suspect will be used to facilitate deportations from Europe.

    Kolda, together with other regions, has received over €60 million ($73 million) in funding for projects aimed at providing technical support and vocational training to farmers, and at giving them access to credit and small loans for entrepreneurial projects.

    But in Pakour, all this development funding has done little to change the material circumstances that push young men to migrate.

    One project financed by the EU Trust Fund that made it to the area around Pakour in 2018 was a travelling caravan offering information about local entrepreneurship and vocational training that was also intended to inform youth about the risks of irregular migration.

    In October 2018, a mobile cinema project funded by the Italian Development Agency and IOM brought a vivid documentary about the dangers migrants face en route to Europe to Pakour. The documentary was screened in 200 villages in six African countries, costing two million euros ($2.4 million). Its effect, however, was mostly to terrify the mothers of people who had already undertaken the journey, according to people in Pakour.

    Pakour’s Association of the Returnees also received funding from Caritas and IOM to start a poultry farm to stimulate the local economy. But the project is struggling and has so far failed to provide anyone with an income. Around 30 men take turns working at the farm on a voluntary basis. Many association members feel discouraged and worry about the future.

    “We need resources and real investment,” a representative of Pakour’s local authority told TNH. “Problems here are complex. You cannot solve them with a bunch of chickens.”

    Cycle

    Ibrahima Balde (no relation to Binta Balde or Alpha Balde) is in his thirties and returned from Libya four years ago. He came back to Pakour after witnessing his friend get shot and killed as retribution for other migrants escaping from a construction site in the southern Libyan city of Qatrun when they realised they wouldn’t be paid for their work.

    Ibrahima’s son will soon become a teenager. “I don’t want my child to go through what I had to go through, to see what I have seen,” he said.

    But if things don’t improve in Pakour, Ibrahima fears his son will have little choice but to take the same risks he took and hope for a better result.

    In recent years, relatively successful peacekeeping efforts in Casamance have led to better safety and stability in the area around Pakour – important ingredients for increased economic activity. A government offensive in January appears to have weakened the separatist group, but where things are heading remains to be seen. Development rates continue to lag behind other regions, and the pandemic has only made things worse for the entire country. Senegal’s growth dropped from an already low 5.3 percent in 2019 to an estimated 1.3 percent last year.

    Even Mamadou, Binta’s eldest son and Demba’s brother, is tempted to try to make his way to Europe. He started the journey once, before Demba, but returned home when their father died. If it wasn’t for Demba’s death, he would already have left again.

    Now, without Demba’s contribution to the family economy, Mamadou is struggling. He has a wife and two children to provide for, and he also needs to help support his siblings and his mother. They are all depending on him and he doesn’t see a future in Pakour. “It’s difficult,” he said. “We cannot earn any money here.”

    https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news-feature/2021/3/23/When-a-migrant-drowns-a-whole-community-feels-the-loss

    #celleux_qui_restent #migrations #asile #réfugiés #morts #décès #mourir_en_Méditerranée #mourir_aux_frontières #Sénégal #Pakour #returnees #retour #renvois #expulsions #familles #communauté #celles_qui_restent #ceux_qui_restent

  • Une actrice sénégalaise lance une série TV pour sensibiliser le public à la migration dangereuse | The Storyteller
    https://storyteller.iom.int/fr/stories/une-actrice-senegalaise-lance-une-serie-tv-pour-sensibiliser-le-pub

    Une actrice sénégalaise lance une série TV pour sensibiliser
    le public à la migration dangereuse. L’actrice, mannequin et activiste sénégalaise Khalima Gadji prête son talent à l’écran pour informer les jeunes sur les risques de la migration irrégulière et les alternatives.Khalima joue dans « Loumey wakh wa cogne ba », une nouvelle série télévisée dont le titre se traduit par « Que vais-je dire aux voisins ? » Elle est diffusée sur l’une des principales chaînes du Sénégal. La série de dix épisodes, qui se déroule dans un quartier de Dakar, raconte l’histoire d’Anta, jouée par Khalima, une personne qui rentre chez elle après s’être rendue en Europe. L’histoire s’appuie sur des témoignages réels de migrants de retour, mettant en lumière les risques liés aux itinéraires de migration dangereux.
    « L’idée était de faire des migrants l’histoire principale et d’avoir une discussion à ce sujet », explique Khalima. « La migration n’est pas interdite. Ce que je recommande aux jeunes, c’est de voyager de manière plus organisée ».Elle poursuit : "Ils [les jeunes] prennent le risque de traverser la mer Méditerranée et le désert pour atteindre les pays d’Afrique du Nord et d’Europe, en pensant qu’ils réussiront là-bas. Oui, certains ont réussissent, mais beaucoup d’autres meurent ».En décembre 2020, le projet de l’OIM sur les migrants disparus avait enregistré plus de 3 000 décès le long des itinéraires migratoires du monde entier en 2020. Environ 92 pour cent des migrants qui tentent d’atteindre l’Europe depuis l’Afrique de l’Ouest et l’Afrique centrale par des voies irrégulières sont des jeunes hommes de moins de 30 ans.Khalima a produit la série télévisée après avoir écouté les expériences poignantes de jeunes gens qui retournent au Sénégal, après avoir tenté des périples dangereux pour atteindre l’Europe.Khalima est ambassadeur du projet Migrants comme Messagers, mené par l’OIM, qui soutient les activités menées par les migrants de retour au Sénégal et dans six autres pays d’Afrique de l’Ouest. Le projet sensibilise les communautés aux risques de la migration irrégulière et aux possibilités de solutions régulières.Khalima, ainsi que d’autres ambassadeurs, participe également à la diffusion de messages de santé publique sur la COVID-19 afin de démentir les rumeurs néfastes. Sa série télévisée vise à démystifier la migration irrégulière en présentant les risques qu’elle comporte. Le personnage, Anta, explique les sacrifices qu’elle et sa famille ont dû faire pour qu’elle puisse partir, les dangers qu’elle a rencontrés pendant son voyage, les difficultés qu’elle a connues en Europe et la stigmatisation et les difficultés qu’elle rencontre en tant que migrant de retour au Sénégal.
    La série a été diffusée pour la première fois à la télévision nationale sénégalaise l’année dernière et est disponible en ligne sur les chaînes YouTube de l’OIM au Sénégal et de Télé Story Sénégal. Jusqu’à présent, elle a été bien accueillie, avec plus de 800 000 visionnages en ligne. Une deuxième saison est en cours. Les réactions des téléspectateurs ont été positives et les fans se disent pris par le réalisme de l’intrigue et par le jeu de Khalima.« J’ai trouvé la série intéressante parce qu’elle correspond à ce qui se passe au Sénégal », déclare Coumba Mboup, un fan de la série. « Ici, quand vous revenez et que vous rentrez les mains vides, la société vous regarde de haut. Les gens vous stigmatisent. Khalima joue bien son rôle, c’est exactement comme cela ».Plusieurs migrants de retour ont participé à la production de la série en partageant leurs expériences pour aider à l’élaboration du scénario et s’assurer que l’intrigue et les personnages sont plausibles.« Le thème de la série était important pour moi car il dépeint le difficile retour d’un migrant. C’était vraiment intéressant, et cela m’a permis de renforcer mes compétences », explique Ndeye Fatou Sall, migrant de retour et volontaire participant à la sensibilisation.Pour promouvoir l’émission, Khalima est apparue avec Ramatoulaye Diène, journaliste et volontaire pour la sensibilisation, sur la station de radio Vibe Radio Sénégal. Elles ont discuté du projet Migrants comme Messagers, des risques liés à la migration irrégulière et de leurs expériences.Migrants comme Messagers a été lancé en 2017 par l’OIM et est mis en œuvre dans sept pays d’Afrique de l’Ouest : Côte-d’Ivoire, Gambie, Guinée, Liberia, Nigéria, Sénégal et Sierra Leone. Le projet soutient un réseau de plus de 290 volontaires pour informer les gens sur les dangers de la migration irrégulière et aider les migrants de retour à développer et à mener des initiatives locales de sensibilisation.Depuis le début de la pandémie de COVID-19, les volontaires ont également organisé des campagnes de santé publique pour informer les gens et prévenir la propagation du virus dans leurs communautés.

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#senegal#migrationirregulière#sante#sensibilisation1#OIM#media#migrantderetour

  • Sénégal - Il faut que cesse l’impunité internationale du régime de Macky Sall | Le Club de Mediapart
    https://blogs.mediapart.fr/les-invites-de-mediapart/blog/100321/senegal-il-faut-que-cesse-l-impunite-internationale-du-regime-de-mac

    Un collectif d’une centaine d’artistes, d’universitaires et de divers citoyens sénégalais lance un appel pour que cessent la répression que mène actuellement le régime du président Macky Sall, et l’impunité internationale dont il bénéficie. Face à l’ampleur de la répression, « de simples déclarations ne suffisent plus » !

    #Sénégal

  • The big wall


    https://thebigwall.org/en

    An ActionAid investigation into how Italy tried to stop migration from Africa, using EU funds, and how much money it spent.

    There are satellites, drones, ships, cooperation projects, police posts, repatriation flights, training centers. They are the bricks of an invisible but tangible and often violent wall. Erected starting in 2015 onwards, thanks to over one billion euros of public money. With one goal: to eliminate those movements by sea, from North Africa to Italy, which in 2015 caused an outcry over a “refugee crisis”. Here we tell you about the (fragile) foundations and the (dramatic) impacts of this project. Which must be changed, urgently.

    –---

    Ready, Set, Go

    Imagine a board game, Risk style. The board is a huge geographical map, which descends south from Italy, including the Mediterranean Sea and North Africa and almost reaching the equator, in Cameroon, South Sudan, Rwanda. Places we know little about and read rarely about.

    Each player distributes activity cards and objects between countries and along borders. In Ethiopia there is a camera crew shooting TV series called ‘Miraj’ [mirage], which recounts the misadventures of naive youth who rely on shady characters to reach Europe. There is military equipment, distributed almost everywhere: off-road vehicles for the Tunisian border police, ambulances and tank trucks for the army in Niger, patrol boats for Libya, surveillance drones taking off from Sicily.

    There is technology: satellite systems on ships in the Mediterranean, software for recording fingerprints in Egypt, laptops for the Nigerian police. And still: coming and going of flights between Libya and Nigeria, Guinea, Gambia. Maritime coordination centers, police posts in the middle of the Sahara, job orientation offices in Tunisia or Ethiopia, clinics in Uganda, facilities for minors in Eritrea, and refugee camps in Sudan.

    Hold your breath for a moment longer, because we still haven’t mentioned the training courses. And there are many: to produce yogurt in Ivory Coast, open a farm in Senegal or a beauty salon in Nigeria, to learn about the rights of refugees, or how to use a radar station.

    Crazed pawns, overlapping cards and unclear rules. Except for one: from these African countries, more than 25 of them, not one person should make it to Italy. There is only one exception allowed: leaving with a visa. Embassy officials, however, have precise instructions: anyone who doesn’t have something to return to should not be accepted. Relationships, family, and friends don’t count, but only incomes, properties, businesses, and titles do.

    For a young professional, a worker, a student, an activist, anyone looking for safety, future and adventure beyond the borders of the continent, for people like me writing and perhaps like you reading, the only allies become the facilitators, those who Europe calls traffickers and who, from friends, can turn into worst enemies.

    We called it The Big Wall. It could be one of those strategy games that keeps going throughout the night, for fans of geopolitics, conflicts, finance. But this is real life, and it’s the result of years of investments, experiments, documents and meetings. At first disorderly, sporadic, then systematized and increased since 2015, when United Nations agencies, echoed by the international media, sounded an alarm: there is a migrant crisis happening and Europe must intervene. Immediately.

    Italy was at the forefront, and all those agreements, projects, and programs from previous years suddenly converged and multiplied, becoming bricks of a wall that, from an increasingly militarized Mediterranean, moved south, to the travelers’ countries of origin.

    The basic idea, which bounced around chancelleries and European institutions, was to use multiple tools: development cooperation, support for security forces, on-site protection of refugees, repatriation, information campaigns on the risks of irregular migration. This, in the language of Brussels, was a “comprehensive approach”.

    We talked to some of the protagonists of this story — those who built the wall, who tried to jump it, and who would like to demolish it — and we looked through thousands of pages of reports, minutes, resolutions, decrees, calls for tenders, contracts, newspaper articles, research, to understand how much money Italy has spent, where, and what impacts it has had. Months of work to discover not only that this wall has dramatic consequences, but that the European – and Italian – approach to international migration stems from erroneous premises, from an emergency stance that has disastrous results for everyone, including European citizens.
    Libya: the tip of the iceberg

    It was the start of the 2017/2018 academic year and Omer Shatz, professor of international law, offered his Sciences Po students the opportunity to work alongside him on the preparation of a dossier. For the students of the faculty, this was nothing new. In the classrooms of the austere building on the Rive Gauche of Paris, which European and African heads of state have passed though, not least Emmanuel Macron, it’s normal to work on real life materials: peace agreements in Colombia, trials against dictators and foreign fighters. Those who walk on those marble floors already know that they will be able to speak with confidence in circles that matter, in politics as well as diplomacy.

    Shatz, who as a criminal lawyer in Israel is familiar with abuses and rights violations, launched his students a new challenge: to bring Europe to the International Criminal Court for the first time. “Since it was created, the court has only condemned African citizens – dictators, militia leaders – but showing European responsibility was urgent,” he explains.

    One year after first proposing the plan, Shatz sent an envelope to the Court’s headquarters, in the Dutch town of The Hague. With his colleague Juan Branco and eight of his students he recounted, in 245 pages, cases of “widespread and systematic attack against the civilian population”, linked to “crimes against humanity consciously committed by European actors, in the central Mediterranean and in Libya, in line with Italian and European Union policies”.

    The civilian population to which they refer comprises migrants and refugees, swallowed by the waves or intercepted in the central Mediterranean and brought back to shore by Libyan assets, to be placed in a seemingly endless cycle of detention. Among them are the 13.000 dead recorded since 2015, in the stretch of sea between North Africa and Italy, out of 523.000 people who survived the crossing, but also the many African and Asian citizens, who are rarely counted, who were tortured in Libya and died in any of the dozens of detention centers for foreigners, often run by militias.

    “At first we thought that the EU and Italy were outsourcing dirty work to Libya to block people, which in jargon is called ‘aiding and abetting’ in the commission of a crime, then we realized that the Europeans were actually the conductors of these operations, while the Libyans performed”, says Shatz, who, at the end of 2020, was preparing a second document for the International Criminal Court to include more names, those of the “anonymous officials of the European and Italian bureaucracy who participated in this criminal enterprise”, which was centered around the “reinvention of the Libyan Coast Guard, conceived by Italian actors”.

    Identifying heads of department, office directors, and institution executives in democratic countries as alleged criminals might seem excessive. For Shatz, however, “this is the first time, after the Nuremberg trials, after Eichmann, that Europe has committed crimes of this magnitude, outside of an armed conflict”. The court, which routinely rejects at least 95 percent of the cases presented, did not do so with Shatz and his students’ case. “Encouraging news, but that does not mean that the start of proceedings is around the corner”, explains the lawyer.

    At the basis of the alleged crimes, he continues, are “regulations, memoranda of understanding, maritime cooperation, detention centers, patrols and drones” created and financed by the European Union and Italy. Here Shatz is speaking about the Memorandum of Understanding between Italy and Libya to “reduce the flow of illegal migrants”, as the text of the document states. An objective to be achieved through training and support for the two maritime patrol forces of the very fragile Libyan national unity government, by “adapting” the existing detention centers, and supporting local development initiatives.

    Signed in Rome on February 2, 2017 and in force until 2023, the text is grafted onto the Treaty of Friendship, Partnership and Cooperation signed by Silvio Berlusconi and Muammar Gaddafi in 2008, but is tied to a specific budget: that of the so-called Africa Fund, established in 2016 as the “Fund for extraordinary interventions to relaunch dialogue and cooperation with African countries of priority importance for migration routes” and extended in 2020 — as the Migration Fund — to non-African countries too.

    310 million euros were allocated in total between the end of 2016 and November 2020, and 252 of those were disbursed, according to our reconstruction.

    A multiplication of tools and funds that, explains Mario Giro, “was born after the summit between the European Union and African leaders in Malta, in November 2015”. According to the former undersecretary of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, from 2013, and Deputy Minister for Foreign Affairs between 2016 and 2018, that summit in Malta “sanctioned the triumph of a European obsession, that of reducing migration from Africa at all costs: in exchange of this containment, there was a willingness to spend, invest”. For Giro, the one in Malta was an “attempt to come together, but not a real partnership”.

    Libya, where more than 90 percent of those attempting to cross the central Mediterranean departed from in those years, was the heart of a project in which Italian funds and interests support and integrate with programs by the European Union and other member states. It was an all-European dialogue, from which powerful Africans — political leaders but also policemen, militiamen, and the traffickers themselves — tried to obtain something: legitimacy, funds, equipment.

    Fragmented and torn apart by a decade-long conflict, Libya was however not alone. In October 2015, just before the handshakes and the usual photographs at the Malta meeting, the European Commission established an Emergency Trust Fund to “address the root causes of migration in Africa”.

    To do so, as Dutch researcher Thomas Spijkerboer will reconstruct years later, the EU executive declared a state of emergency in the 26 African countries that benefit from the Fund, thus justifying the choice to circumvent European competition rules in favor of direct award procedures. However “it’s implausible – Spijkerboeker will go on to argue – that there is a crisis in all 26 African countries where the Trust Fund operates through the duration of the Trust Fund”, now extended until the end of 2021.

    However, the imperative, as an advisor to the Budget Commission of the European Parliament explains, was to act immediately: “not within a few weeks, but days, hours“.

    Faced with a Libya still ineffective at stopping flows to the north, it was in fact necessary to intervene further south, traveling backwards along the routes that converge from dozens of African countries and go towards Tripolitania. And — like dominoes in reverse — raising borders and convincing, or forcing, potential travelers to stop in their countries of origin or in others along the way, before they arrived on the shores of the Mediterranean.

    For the first time since decolonization, human mobility in Africa became the keystone of Italian policies on the continent, so much so that analysts began speaking of migration diplomacy. Factors such as the number of migrants leaving from a given country and the number of border posts or repatriations all became part of the political game, on the same level as profits from oil extraction, promises of investment, arms sales, or trade agreements.

    Comprising projects, funds, and programs, this migration diplomacy comes at a cost. For the period between January 2015 and November 2020, we tracked down 317 funding lines managed by Italy with its own funds and partially co-financed by the European Union. A total of 1.337 billion euros, spent over five years and destined to eight different items of expenditure. Here Libya is in first place, but it is not alone.

    A long story, in short

    For simplicity’s sake, we can say that it all started in the hot summer of 2002, with an almost surrealist lightning war over a barren rock on the edge of the Mediterranean: the Isla de Persejil, the island of parsley. A little island in the Strait of Gibraltar, disputed for decades between Morocco and Spain, which had its ephemeral moment of glory when in July of that year the Moroccan monarchy sent six soldiers, some tents and a flag. Jose-Maria Aznar’s government quickly responded with a reconquista to the sound of fighter-bombers, frigates, and helicopters.

    Peace was signed only a few weeks later and the island went back to being a land of shepherds and military patrols. Which from then on, however, were joint ones.

    “There was talk of combating drug trafficking and illegal fishing, but the reality was different: these were the first anti-immigration operations co-managed by Spanish and Moroccan soldiers”, explains Sebastian Cobarrubias, professor of geography at the University of Zaragoza. The model, he says, was the one of Franco-Spanish counter-terrorism operations in the Basque Country, exported from the Pyrenees to the sea border.

    A process of externalization of Spanish and European migration policy was born following those events in 2002, and culminating years later with the crisis de los cayucos, the pirogue crisis: the arrival of tens of thousands of people – 31,000 in 2006 alone – in the Canary Islands, following extremely dangerous crossings from Senegal, Mauritania and Morocco.

    In close dialogue with the European Commission, which saw the Spanish border as the most porous one of the fragile Schengen area, the government of José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero reacted quickly. “Within a few months, cooperation and repatriation agreements were signed with nine African countries,” says Cobarrubias, who fought for years, with little success, to obtain the texts of the agreements.

    The events of the late 2000s look terribly similar to what Italy will try to implement a decade later with its Mediterranean neighbors, Libya first of all. So much so that in 2016 it was the Spanish Minister of the Interior himself, Jorge Fernández Díaz, who recalled that “the Spanish one is a European management model, reproducible in other contexts”. A vision confirmed by the European Commission officials with whom we spoke.

    At the heart of the Spanish strategy, which over a few short years led to a drastic decrease of arrivals by sea, was the opening of new diplomatic offices in Africa, the launch of local development projects, and above all the support given to the security forces of partner countries.

    Cobarrubias recounts at least four characteristic elements of the Madrid approach: the construction of new patrol forces “such as the Mauritanian Coast Guard, which did not exist and was created by Spain thanks to European funds, with the support of the newly created Frontex agency”; direct and indirect support for detention centers, such as the infamous ‘Guantanamito’, or little Guantanamo, denounced by civil society organizations in Mauritania; the real-time collection of border data and information, carried out by the SIVE satellite system, a prototype of Eurosur, an incredibly expensive intelligence center on the EU’s external borders launched in 2013, based on drones, satellites, airplanes, and sensors; and finally, the strategy of working backwards along migration routes, to seal borders, from the sea to the Sahara desert, and investing locally with development and governance programs, which Spain did during the two phases of the so-called Plan Africa, between 2006 and 2012.

    Replace “Spain” with “Italy”, and “Mauritania” with “Libya”, and you’ll have an idea of what happened years later, in an attempt to seal another European border.

    The main legacy of the Spanish model, according to the Italian sociologist Lorenzo Gabrielli, however, is the negative conditionality, which is the fact of conditioning the disbursement of these loans – for security forces, ministries, trade agreements – at the level of the African partners’ cooperation in the management of migration, constantly threatening to reduce investments if there are not enough repatriations being carried out, or if controls and pushbacks fail. An idea that is reminiscent both of the enlargement process of the European Union, with all the access restrictions placed on candidate countries, and of the Schengen Treaty, the attempt to break down internal European borders, which, as a consequence, created the need to protect a new common border, the external one.
    La externalización europea del control migratorio: ¿La acción española como modelo? Read more

    At the end of 2015, when almost 150,000 people had reached the Italian coast and over 850,000 had crossed Turkey and the Balkans to enter the European Union, the story of the maritime migration to Spain had almost faded from memory.

    But something remained of it: a management model. Based, once again, on an idea of crisis.

    “We tried to apply it to post-Gaddafi Libya – explains Stefano Manservisi, who over the past decade has chaired two key departments for migration policies in the EU Commission, Home Affairs and Development Cooperation – but in 2013 we soon realized that things had blown up, that that there was no government to talk to: the whole strategy had to be reformulated”.

    Going backwards, through routes and processes

    The six-month presidency of the European Council, in 2014, was the perfect opportunity for Italy.

    In November of that year, Matteo Renzi’s government hosted a conference in Rome to launch the Khartoum Process, the brand new initiative for the migration route between the EU and the Horn of Africa, modeled on the Rabat Process, born in 2006, at the apex of the crisis de los cayucos, after pressure from Spain. It’s a regional cooperation platform between EU countries and nine African countries, based on the exchange of information and coordination between governments, to manage migration.
    Il processo di Khartoum: l’Italia e l’Europa contro le migrazioni Read more

    Warning: if you start to find terms such as ‘process’ and ‘coordination platform’ nebulous, don’t worry. The backbone of European policies is made of these structures: meetings, committees, negotiating tables with unattractive names, whose roles elude most of us. It’s a tendency towards the multiplication of dialogue and decision spaces, that the migration policies of recent years have, if possible, accentuated, in the name of flexibility, of being ready for any eventuality. Of continuous crisis.

    Let’s go back to that inter-ministerial meeting in Rome that gave life to the Khartoum Process and in which Libya, where the civil war had resumed violently a few months earlier, was not present.

    Italy thus began looking beyond Libya, to the so-called countries of origin and transit. Such as Ethiopia, a historic beneficiary of Italian development cooperation, and Sudan. Indeed, both nations host refugees from Eritrea and Somalia, two of the main countries of origin of those who cross the central Mediterranean between 2013 and 2015. Improving their living conditions was urgent, to prevent them from traveling again, from dreaming of Europe. In Niger, on the other hand, which is an access corridor to Libya for those traveling from countries such as Nigeria, Gambia, Senegal, and Mali, Italy co-financed a study for a new law against migrant smuggling, then adopted in 2015, which became the cornerstone of a radical attempt to reduce movement across the Sahara desert, which you will read about later.

    A year later, with the Malta summit and the birth of the EU Trust Fund for Africa, Italy was therefore ready to act. With a 123 million euro contribution, allocated from 2017 through the Africa Fund and the Migration Fund, Italy became the second donor country, and one of the most active in trying to manage those over 4 billion euros allocated for five years. [If you are curious about the financing mechanisms of the Trust Fund, read here: https://thebigwall.org/en/trust-fund/].

    Through the Italian Agency for Development Cooperation (AICS), born in 2014 as an operational branch of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Italy immediately made itself available to manage European Fund projects, and one idea seemed to be the driving one: using classic development programs, but implemented in record time, to offer on-site alternatives to young people eager to leave, while improving access to basic services.

    Local development, therefore, became the intervention to address the so-called root causes of migration. For the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the newborn AICS, it seemed a winning approach. Unsurprisingly, the first project approved through the Trust Fund for Africa was managed by the Italian agency in Ethiopia.

    “Stemming irregular migration in Northern and Central Ethiopia” received 19.8 million euros in funding, a rare sum for local development interventions. The goal was to create job opportunities and open career guidance centers for young people in four Ethiopian regions. Or at least that’s how it seemed. In the first place, among the objectives listed in the project sheet, there is in fact another one: to reduce irregular migration.

    In the logical matrix of the project, which insiders know is the presentation – through data, indicators and figures – of the expected results, there is no indicator that appears next to the “reduction of irregular migration” objective. There is no way, it’s implicitly admitted, to verify that that goal has been achieved. That the young person trained to start a micro-enterprise in the Wollo area, for example, is one less migrant.

    Bizarre, not to mention wrong. But indicative of the problems of an approach of which, an official of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs explains to us, “Italy had made itself the spokesperson in Europe”.

    “The mantra was that more development would stop migration, and at a certain point that worked for everyone: for AICS, which justified its funds in the face of political landscape that was scared by the issue of landings, and for many NGOs, which immediately understood that migrations were the parsley to be sprinkled on the funding requests that were presented”, explains the official, who, like so many in this story, prefers to remain anonymous.

    This idea of the root causes was reproduced, as in an echo chamber, “without programmatic documents, without guidelines, but on the wave of a vague idea of political consensus around the goal of containing migration”, he adds. This makes it almost impossible to talk about, so much so that a proposal for new guidelines on immigration and development, drawn up during 2020 by AICS, was set aside for months.

    Indeed, if someone were to say, as evidenced by scholars such as Michael Clemens, that development can also increase migration, and that migration itself is a source of development, the whole ‘root causes’ idea would collapse and the already tight cooperation budgets would risk being cut, in the name of the same absolute imperative as always: reducing arrivals to Italy and Europe.

    Maintaining a vague, costly and unverifiable approach is equally damaging.

    Bram Frouws, director of the Mixed Migration Center, a think-tank that studies international mobility, points out, for example, how the ‘root cause’ approach arises from a vision of migration as a problem to be eradicated rather than managed, and that paradoxically, the definition of these deep causes always remains superficial. In fact, there is never talk of how international fishing agreements damage local communities, nor of land grabbing by speculators, major construction work, or corruption and arms sales. There is only talk of generic economic vulnerability, of a country’s lack of stability. An almost abstract phenomenon, in which European actors are exempt from any responsibility.

    There is another problem: in the name of the fight against irregular migration, interventions have shifted from poorer and truly vulnerable countries and populations to regions with ‘high migratory rates’, a term repeated in dozens of project descriptions funded over the past few years, distorting one of the cardinal principles of development aid, codified in regulations and agreements: that of responding to the most urgent needs of a given population, and of not imposing external priorities, even more so if it is countries considered richer are the ones doing it.

    The Nigerien experiment

    While Ethiopia and Sudan absorb the most substantial share of funds destined to tackle the root causes of migration — respectively 47 and 32 million euros out of a total expenditure of 195 million euros — Niger, which for years has been contending for the podium of least developed country on the planet with Central African Republic according to the United Nations Human Development Index — benefits from just over 10 million euros.

    Here in fact it’s more urgent, for Italy and the EU, to intervene on border control rather than root causes, to stop the flow of people that cross the country until they arrive in Agadez, to then disappear in the Sahara and emerge, days later — if all goes well — in southern Libya. In 2016, the International Organization for Migration counted nearly 300,000 people passing through a single checkpoint along the road to Libya. The figure bounced between the offices of the European Commission, and from there to the Farnesina, the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs: faced with an uncontrollable Libya, intervening in Niger became a priority.

    Italy did it in great style, even before opening an embassy in the country, in February 2017: with a contribution to the state budget of Niger of 50 million euros, part of the Africa Fund, included as part of a maxi-program managed by the EU in the country and paid out in several installments.

    While the project documents list a number of conditions for the continuation of the funding, including increased monitoring along the routes to Libya and the adoption of regulations and strategies for border control, some local and European officials with whom we have spoken think that the assessments were made with one eye closed: the important thing was in fact to provide those funds to be spent in a country that for Italy, until then, had been synonymous only with tourism in the Sahara dunes and development in rural areas.

    Having become a priority in the New Partnership Framework on Migration, yet another EU operational program, launched in 2016, Niger seemed thus exempt from controls on the management of funds to which beneficiaries of European funds are normally subject to.

    “Our control mechanisms, the Court of Auditors, the Parliament and the anti-corruption Authority, do not work, and yet the European partners have injected millions of euros into state coffers, without imposing transparency mechanisms”, reports then Ali Idrissa Nani , president of the Réseau des Organizations pour la Transparence et l’Analyse du Budget (ROTAB), a network of associations that seeks to monitor state spending in Niger.

    “It leaves me embittered, but for some years we we’ve had the impression that civil liberties, human rights, and participation are no longer a European priority“, continues Nani, who —- at the end of 2020 — has just filed a complaint with the Court of Niamey, to ask the Prosecutor to open an investigation into the possible disappearance of at least 120 million euros in funds from the Ministry of Defense, a Pandora’s box uncovered by local and international journalists.

    For Nani, who like other Nigerien activists spent most of 2018 in prison for encouraging demonstrations against high living costs, this explosion of European and Italian cooperation didn’t do the country any good, and in fact favoured authoritarian tendencies, and limited even more the independence of the judiciary.

    For their part, the Nigerien rulers have more than others seized the opportunity offered by European donors to obtain legitimacy and support. Right after the Valletta summit, they were the first to present an action plan to reduce migration to Libya, which they abruptly implemented in mid-2016, applying the anti-trafficking law whose preliminary study was financed by Italy, with the aim of emptying the city of #Agadez of migrants from other countries.

    The transport of people to the Libyan border, an activity that until that point happened in the light of day and was sanctioned at least informally by the local authorities, thus became illegal from one day to the next. Hundreds of drivers, intermediaries, and facilitators were arrested, and an entire economy crashed

    But did the movement of people really decrease? Almost impossible to tell. The only data available are those of the International Organization for Migration, which continues to record the number of transits at certain police posts. But drivers and foreign travelers no longer pass through them, fearing they will be arrested or stopped. Routes and journeys, as always happens, are remodeled, only to reappear elsewhere. Over the border with Chad, or in Algeria, or in a risky zigzagging of small tracks, to avoid patrols.

    For Hamidou Manou Nabara, a Nigerien sociologist and researcher, the problems with this type of cooperation are manifold.

    On the one hand, it restricted the free movement guaranteed within the Economic Community of West African States, a sort of ‘Schengen area’ between 15 countries in the region, making half of Niger, from Agadez to the north, a no-go areas for foreign citizens, even though they still had the right to move throughout the national territory.

    Finally, those traveling north were made even more vulnerable. “The control of borders and migratory movements was justified on humanitarian grounds, to contrast human trafficking, but in reality very few victims of trafficking were ever identified: the center of this cooperation is repression”, explains Nabara.

    Increasing controls, through military and police operations, actually exposes travelers to greater violations of human rights, both by state agents and passeurs, making the Sahara crossings longer and riskier.

    The fight against human trafficking, a slogan repeated by European and African leaders and a central expenditure item of the Italian intervention between Africa and the Mediterranean — 142 million euros in five years —- actually risks having the opposite effect. Because a trafiicker’s bread and butter, in addition to people’s desire to travel, is closed borders and denied visas.

    A reinvented frontier

    Galvanized by the activism of the European Commission after the launch of the Trust Fund but under pressure internally, faced with a discourse on migration that seemed to invade every public space — from the front pages of newspapers to television talk-shows — and unable to agree on how to manage migration within the Schengen area, European rulers thus found an agreement outside the continent: to add more bricks to that wall that must reduce movements through the Mediterranean.

    Between 2015 and 2016, Italian, Dutch, German, French and European Union ministers, presidents and senior officials travel relentlessly between countries considered priorities for migration, and increasingly for security, and invite their colleagues to the European capitals. A coming and going of flights to Niger, Mali, Burkina Faso, Nigeria, Ethiopia, Sudan, Tunisia, Senegal, Chad, Guinea, to make agreements, negotiate.

    “Niamey had become a crossroads for European diplomats”, remembers Ali Idrissa Nani, “but few understood the reasons”.

    However, unlike the border with Turkey, where the agreement signed with the EU at the beginning of 2016 in no time reduced the arrival of Syrian, Afghan, and Iraqi citizens in Greece, the continent’s other ‘hot’ border, promises of speed and effectiveness by the Trust Fund for Africa did not seem to materialize. Departures from Libya, in particular, remained constant. And in the meantime, in the upcoming election in a divided Italy, the issue of migration seemed to be tipping the balance, capable of shifting votes and alliances.

    It is at that point that the Italian Ministry of the Interior, newly led by Marco Minniti, put its foot on the accelerator. The Viminale, the Italian Ministry of the Interior, became the orchestrator of a new intervention plan, refined between Rome and Brussels, with German support, which went back to focusing everything on Libya and on that stretch of sea that separates it from Italy.

    “In those months the phones were hot, everyone was looking for Marco“, says an official of the Interior Ministry, who admits that “the Ministry of the Interior had snatched the Libyan dossier from Foreign Affairs, but only because up until then the Foreign Ministry hadn’t obtained anything” .

    Minniti’s first move was the signing of the new Memorandum with Libya, which gave way to a tripartite plan.

    At the top of the agenda was the creation of a maritime interception device for boats departing from the Libyan coast, through the reconstruction of the Coast Guard and the General Administration for Coastal Security (GACS), the two patrol forces belonging to the Ministry of Defense and that of the Interior, and the establishment of a rescue coordination center, prerequisites for Libya to declare to the International Maritime Organization that it had a Search and Rescue Area, so that the Italian Coast Guard could ask Libyan colleagues to intervene if there were boats in trouble.

    Accompanying this work in Libya is a jungle of Italian and EU missions, surveillance systems and military operations — from the European Frontex, Eunavfor Med and Eubam Libya, to the Italian military mission “Safe Waters” — equipped with drones, planes, patrol boats, whose task is to monitor the Libyan Sea, which is increasingly emptied by the European humanitarian ships that started operating in 2014 (whose maneuvering spaces are in the meantime reduced to the bone due to various strategies) to support Libyan interception operations.

    The second point of the ‘Minniti agenda’ was to progressively empty Libya of migrants and refugees, so that an escape by sea would become increasingly difficult. Between 2017 and 2020, the Libyan assets, which are in large part composed of patrol boats donated by Italy, intercepted and returned to shore about 56,000 people according to data released by UN agencies. The Italian-European plan envisages two solutions: for economic migrants, the return to the country of origin; for refugees, the possibility of obtaining protection.

    There is one part of this plan that worked better, at least in terms of European wishes: repatriation, presented as ‘assisted voluntary return’. This vision was propelled by images, released in October 2017 by CNN as part of a report on the abuse of foreigners in Libya, of what appears to be a slave auction. The images reopened the unhealed wounds of the slave trade through Atlantic and Sahara, and helped the creation of a Joint Initiative between the International Organization for Migration, the European Union, and the African Union, aimed at returning and reintegrating people in the countries of origin.

    Part of the Italian funding for IOM was injected into this complex system of repatriation by air, from Tripoli to more than 20 countries, which has contributed to the repatriation of 87,000 people over three years. 33,000 from Libya, and 37,000 from Niger.

    A similar program for refugees, which envisages transit through other African countries (Niger and Rwanda gave their availability) and from there resettlement to Europe or North America, recorded much lower numbers: 3,300 evacuations between the end of 2017 and the end of 2020. For the 47,000 people registered as refugees in Libya, leaving the country without returning to their home country, to the starting point, is almost impossible.

    Finally, there is a third, lesser-known point of the Italian plan: even in Libya, Italy wants to intervene on the root causes of migration, or rather on the economies linked to the transit and smuggling of migrants. The scheme is simple: support basic services and local authorities in migrant transit areas, in exchange for this transit being controlled and reduced. The transit of people brings with it the circulation of currency, a more valuable asset than usual in a country at war, and this above all in the south of Libya, in the immense Saharan region of Fezzan, the gateway to the country, bordering Algeria, Niger, and Chad and almost inaccessible to international humanitarian agencies.

    A game in which intelligence plays central role (as also revealed by the journalist Lorenzo D’Agostino on Foreign Policy), as indeed it did in another negotiation and exchange of money: those 5 million euros destined — according to various journalistic reconstructions — to a Sabratha militia, the Anas Al-Dabbashi Brigade, to stop departures from the coastal city.

    A year later, its leader, Ahmed Al-Dabbashi, will be sanctioned by the UN Security Council, as leader for criminal activities related to human trafficking.

    The one built in record time by the ministry led by Marco Minniti is therefore a complicated and expensive puzzle. To finance it, there are above all the Trust Fund for Africa of the EU, and the Italian Africa Fund, initially headed only by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and unpacked among several ministries for the occasion, but also the Internal Security Fund of the EU, which funds military equipment for all Italian security forces, as well as funds and activities from the Ministry of Defense.

    A significant part of those 666 million euros dedicated to border control, but also of funds to support governance and fight traffickers, converges and enters this plan: a machine that was built too quickly, among whose wheels human rights and Libya’s peace process are sacrificed.

    “We were looking for an immediate result and we lost sight of the big picture, sacrificing peace on the altar of the fight against migration, when Libya was in pieces, in the hands of militias who were holding us hostage”. This is how former Deputy Minister Mario Giro describes the troubled handling of the Libyan dossier.

    For Marwa Mohamed, a Libyan activist, all these funds and interventions were “provided without any real clause of respect for human rights, and have fragmented the country even more, because they were intercepted by the militias, which are the same ones that manage both the smuggling of migrants that detention centers, such as that of Abd el-Rahman al-Milad, known as ‘al-Bija’ ”.

    Projects aimed at Libyan municipalities, included in the interventions on the root causes of migration — such as the whole detention system, invigorated by the introduction of people intercepted at sea (and ‘improved’ through millions of euros of Italian funds) — offer legitimacy, when they do not finance it directly, to the ramified and violent system of local powers that the German political scientist Wolfram Lacher defines as the ‘Tripoli militia cartel‘. [for more details on the many Italian funds in Libya, read here].
    Fondi italiani in Libia Read more

    “Bringing migrants back to shore, perpetuating a detention system, does not only mean subjecting people to new abuses, but also enriching the militias, fueling the conflict”, continues Mohamed, who is now based in London, where she is a spokesman of the Libyan Lawyers for Justice organization.

    The last few years of Italian cooperation, she argues, have been “a sequence of lost opportunities”. And to those who tell you — Italian and European officials especially — that reforming justice, putting an end to that absolute impunity that strengthens the militias, is too difficult, Mohamed replies without hesitation: “to sign the Memorandum of Understanding, the authorities contacted the militias close to the Tripoli government one by one and in the meantime built a non-existent structure from scratch, the Libyan Coast Guard: and you’re telling me that you can’t put the judicial system back on its feet and protect refugees? ”

    The only thing that mattered, however, in that summer of 2017, were the numbers. Which, for the first time since 2013, were falling again, and quickly. In the month of August there were 80 percent fewer landings than the year before. And so it would be for the following months and years.

    “Since then, we have continued to allocate, renewing programs and projects, without asking for any guarantee in exchange for the treatment of migrants”, explains Matteo De Bellis, researcher at Amnesty International, remembering that the Italian promise to modify the Memorandum of Understanding, introducing clauses of protection, has been on stop since the controversial renewal of the document, in February 2020.

    Repatriations, evacuations, promises

    We are 1500 kilometers of road, and sand, south of Tripoli. Here Salah* spends his days escaping a merciless sun. The last three years of the life of the thirty-year-old Sudanese have not offered much else and now, like many fellow sufferers, he does not hide his fatigue.

    We are in a camp 15 kilometers from Agadez, in Niger, in the middle of the Sahara desert, where Salah lives with a thousand people, mostly Sudanese from the Darfur region, the epicenter of one of the most dramatic and lethal conflicts of recent decades.

    Like almost all the inhabitants of this temporary Saharan settlement, managed by the UN High Commissioner for Refugees and — at the end of 2020 — undergoing rehabilitation also thanks to Italian funds, he passed through Libya and since 2017, after three years of interceptions at sea and detention, he’s been desperately searching for a way out, for a future.

    Salah fled Darfur in 2016, after receiving threats from pro-government armed militias, and reached Tripoli after a series of vicissitudes and violence. In late spring 2017, he sailed from nearby Zawiya with 115 other people. They were intercepted, brought back to shore and imprisoned in a detention center, formally headed by the government but in fact controlled by the Al-Nasr militia, linked to the trafficker Al-Bija.

    “They beat us everywhere, for days, raped some women in front of us, and asked everyone to call families to get money sent,” Salah recalls. Months later, after paying some money and escaping, he crossed the Sahara again, up to Agadez. UNHCR had just opened a facility and from there, as rumour had it, you could ask to be resettled to Europe.

    Faced with sealed maritime borders, and after experiencing torture and abuse, that faint hope set in motion almost two thousand people, who, hoping to reach Italy, found themselves on the edges of the Sahara, along what many, by virtue of investments and negotiations, had started to call the ‘new European frontier’.

    Three years later, a little over a thousand people remain of that initial group. Only a few dozen of them had access to resettlement, while many returned to Libya, and to all of its abuses.

    Something similar is also happening in Tunisia, where since 2017, the number of migrants and refugees entering the country has increased. They are fleeing by land and sometimes by sea from Libya, going to crowd UN structures. Then, faced with a lack of real prospects, they return to Libya.

    For Romdhane Ben Amor, spokesman for the Tunisian Federation for Economic and Social Rights, “in Tunisia European partners have financed a non-reception: overcrowded centers in unworthy conditions, which have become recruitment areas for traffickers, because in fact there are two options offered there: go home or try to get back to the sea “.

    In short, even the interventions for the protection of migrants and refugees must be read in a broader context, of a contraction of mobility and human rights. “The refugee management itself has submitted to the goal of containment, which is the true original sin of the Italian and European strategy,” admits a UNHCR official.

    This dogma of containment, at any cost, affects everyone — people who travel, humanitarian actors, civil society, local governments — by distorting priorities, diverting funds, and undermining future relationships and prospects. The same ones that European officials call partnerships and which in the case of Africa, as reiterated in 2020 by President Ursula Von Der Leyen, should be “between equals”.

    Let’s take another example: the Egypt of President Abdel Fetah Al-Sisi. Since 2016, it has been increasingly isolated on the international level, also due to violent internal repression, which Italy knows something about. Among the thousands of people who have been disappeared or killed in recent years, is researcher Giulio Regeni, whose body was thrown on the side of a road north of Cairo in February 2016.

    Around the time of the murder, in which the complicity and cover-ups by the Egyptian security forces were immediately evident, the Italian Ministry of the Interior restarted its dialogue with the country. “It’s absurd, but Italy started to support Egypt in negotiations with the European Union,” explains lawyer Muhammed Al-Kashef, a member of the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Right and now a refugee in Germany.

    By inserting itself on an already existing cooperation project that saw italy, for example, finance the use of fingerprint-recording software used by the Egyptian police, the Italian Ministry of the Interior was able to create a police academy in Cairo, inaugurated in 2018 with European funds, to train the border guards of over 20 African countries. Italy also backed Egyptian requests within the Khartoum Process and, on a different front, sells weapons and conducts joint naval exercises.

    “Rome could have played a role in Egypt, supporting the democratic process after the 2011 revolution, but it preferred to fall into the migration trap, fearing a wave of migration that would never happen,” says Al-Kashef.

    With one result: “they have helped transform Egypt into a country that kills dreams, and often dreamers too, and from which all young people today want to escape”. Much more so than in 2015 or that hopeful 2011.

    Cracks in the wall, and how to widen them

    If you have read this far, following personal stories and routes of people and funds, you will have understood one thing, above all: that the beating heart of this strategy, set up by Italy with the participation of the European Union and vice versa, is the reduction of migrations across the Mediterranean. The wall, in fact.

    Now try to add other European countries to this picture. Since 2015 many have fully adopted — or returned to — this process of ‘externalization’ of migration policies. Spain, where the Canary Islands route reopened in 2019, demonstrating the fragility of the model you read about above; France, with its strategic network in the former colonies, the so-called Françafrique. And then Germany, Belgium, Holland, United Kingdom, Austria.

    Complicated, isn’t it? This great wall’s bricks and builders keep multiplying. Even more strategies, meetings, committees, funds and documents. And often, the same lack of transparency, which makes reconstructing these loans – understanding which cement, sand, and lime mixture was used, i.e. who really benefited from the expense, what equipment was provided, how the results were monitored – a long process, when it’s not impossible.

    The Pact on Migration and Asylum of the European Union, presented in September 2020, seems to confirm this: cooperation with third countries and relaunching repatriations are at its core.

    Even the European Union budget for the seven-year period 2021-2027, approved in December 2020, continues to focus on this expenditure, for example by earmarking for migration projects 10 percent of the new Neighborhood, Development and International Cooperation Instrument, equipped with 70 billion euros, but also diverting a large part of the Immigration and Asylum Fund (8.7 billion) towards support for repatriation, and foreseeing 12.1 billion euros for border control.

    While now, with the new US presidency, some have called into question the future of the wall on the border with Mexico, perhaps the most famous of the anti-migrant barriers in the world, the wall built in the Mediterranean and further south, up to the equator, has seemingly never been so strong.

    But economists, sociologists, human rights defenders, analysts and travelers all demonstrate the problems with this model. “It’s a completely flawed approach, and there are no quick fixes to change it,” says David Kipp, a researcher at the German Institute for International Affairs, a government-funded think-tank.

    For Kipp, however, we must begin to deflate this migration bubble, and go back to addressing migration as a human phenomenon, to be understood and managed. “I dream of the moment when this issue will be normalized, and will become something boring,” he admits timidly.

    To do this, cracks must be opened in the wall and in a model that seems solid but really isn’t, that has undesirable effects, violates human rights, and isolates Europe and Italy.

    Anna Knoll, researcher at the European Center for Development Policy Management, explains for example that European policies have tried to limit movements even within Africa, while the future of the continent is the freedom of movement of goods and people, and “for Europe, it is an excellent time to support this, also given the pressure from other international players, China first of all”.

    For Sabelo Mbokazi, who heads the Labor and Migration department of the Social Affairs Commission of the African Union (AU), there is one issue on which the two continental blocs have divergent positions: legal entry channels. “For the EU, they are something residual, we have a much broader vision,” he explains. And this will be one of the themes of the next EU-AU summit, which was postponed several times in 2020.

    It’s a completely flawed approach, and there are no quick fixes to change it
    David Kipp - researcher at the German Institute for International Affairs

    Indeed, the issue of legal access channels to the Italian and European territory is one of the most important, and so far almost imperceptible, cracks in this Big Wall. In the last five years, Italy has spent just 15 million euros on it, 1.1 percent of the total expenditure dedicated to external dimensions of migration.

    The European Union hasn’t done any better. “Legal migration, which was one of the pillars of the strategy born in Valletta in 2015, has remained a dead letter, but if we limit ourselves to closing the borders, we will not go far”, says Stefano Manservisi, who as a senior official of the EU Commission worked on all the migration dossiers during those years.

    Yet we all know that a trafficker’s worst enemy are passport stamps, visas, and airline tickets.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=1&v=HmR96ySikkY

    Helen Dempster, who’s an economist at the Center for Global Development, spends her days studying how to do this: how to open legal channels of entry, and how to get states to think about it. And there is an effective example: we must not end up like Japan.

    “For decades, Japan has had very restrictive migration policies, it hasn’t allowed anyone in”, explains Dempster, “but in recent years it has realized that, with its aging population, it soon won’t have enough people to do basic jobs, pay taxes, and finance pensions”. And so, in April 2019, the Asian country began accepting work visa applications, hoping to attract 500,000 foreign workers.

    In Europe, however, “the hysteria surrounding migration in 2015 and 2016 stopped all debate“. Slowly, things are starting to move again. On the other hand, several European states, Italy and Germany especially, have one thing in common with Japan: an increasingly aging population.

    “All European labor ministries know that they must act quickly, but there are two preconceptions: that it is difficult to develop adequate projects, and that public opinion is against it.” For Dempster, who helped design an access program to the Belgian IT sector for Moroccan workers, these are false problems. “If we want to look at it from the point of view of the security of the receiving countries, bringing a person with a passport allows us to have a lot more information about who they are, which we do not have if we force them to arrive by sea”, she explains.

    Let’s look at some figures to make it easier: in 2007, Italy made 340,000 entry visas available, half of them seasonal, for non-EU workers, as part of the Flows Decree, Italy’s main legal entry channel adopted annually by the government. Few people cried “invasion” back then. Ten years later, in 2017, those 119,000 people who reached Italy through the Mediterranean seemed a disproportionate number. In the same year, the quotas of the Flow decree were just 30,000.

    Perhaps these numbers aren’t comparable, and building legal entry programs is certainly long, expensive, and apparently impractical, if we think of the economic and social effects of the coronavirus pandemic in which we are immersed. For Dempster, however, “it is important to be ready, to launch pilot programs, to create infrastructures and relationships”. So that we don’t end up like Japan, “which has urgently launched an access program for workers, without really knowing how to manage them”.

    The Spanish case, as already mentioned, shows how a model born twenty years ago, and then adopted along all the borders between Europe and Africa, does not really work.

    As international mobility declined, aided by the pandemic, at least 41,000 people landed in Spain in 2020, almost all of them in the Canary Islands. Numbers that take us back to 2006 and remind us how, after all, this ‘outsourcing’ offers costly and ineffective solutions.

    It’s reminiscent of so-called planned obsolescence, the production model for which a technological object isn’t built to last, inducing the consumer to replace it after a few years. But continually renewing and re-financing these walls can be convenient for multinational security companies, shipyards, political speculators, authoritarian regimes, and international traffickers. Certainly not for citizens, who — from the Italian and European institutions — would expect better products. May they think of what the world will be like in 10, 30, 50 years, and avoid trampling human rights and canceling democratic processes in the name of a goal that — history seems to teach — is short-lived. The ideas are not lacking. [At this link you’ll find the recommendations developed by ActionAid: https://thebigwall.org/en/recommendations/].

    https://thebigwall.org/en
    #Italie #externalisation #complexe_militaro-industriel #migrations #frontières #business #Afrique #budget #Afrique_du_Nord #Libye #chiffres #Niger #Soudan #Ethiopie #Sénégal #root_causes #causes_profondes #contrôles_frontaliers #EU_Trust_Fund_for_Africa #Trust_Fund #propagande #campagne #dissuasion

    –—

    Ajouté à la métaliste sur l’externalisation :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/731749
    Et plus précisément :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/731749#message765328

    ping @isskein @karine4 @rhoumour @_kg_

  • #fake_news relayé par France2

    Tom Becques sur Twitter : « #Sénégal Plusieurs témoins affirment que des convois militaires se dirigent vers Dakar, la capitale du pays. Pour rappel, des partis politiques de l’opposition et des mouvements de la société civile appellent à trois jours de manifestations massives dans le pays, dès demain. https://t.co/Y7htqtHOPm » / Twitter
    https://twitter.com/TDelcan/status/1368661035092238338

  • ❝Au Sénégal, une révolte populaire s’ébranle contre la « recolonisation économique »
    7 mars 2021 Par Fanny Pigeaud - Mediapart.fr"
    https://www.mediapart.fr/tools/print/945517


    Manifestations tournant à l’émeute, dans la quartier de Colobane, le 5 mars 2021, à Dakar, après l’arrestation de l’opposant Ousmane Sonko. © Seyllou / AFP
    L’arrestation du principal opposant Ousmane Sonko a déclenché une vague de colère inédite, avec en toile de fond une remise en cause d’un système de gouvernance favorisant les intérêts étrangers. De nombreux magasins Auchan et des stations Total ont été pillés ou saccagés. Au moins quatre personnes ont été tuées.
    Depuis plusieurs mois la tension montait. Et ce mercredi 3 mars au Sénégal, l’arrestation du député Ousmane Sonko, opposant au président Macky Sall, a eu le même effet qu’une étincelle près d’un baril de poudre : une explosion qui part dans tous les sens.

    À Dakar et dans plusieurs autres villes, des milliers de jeunes ont dit leur colère, scandant « Libérez Sonko ! », « Dëkk bi Sonko ko moom ! » (« Ce pays appartient à Sonko », en wolof) et réclamant plus de démocratie, de justice et de considération. Ces manifestations spontanées se sont rapidement transformées en émeutes. Des biens privés, dont des magasins Auchan et des stations Total, des bâtiments abritant des médias, le domicile de membres ou de proches du pouvoir, ainsi que des bâtiments publics ont été pillés ou brûlés entre mercredi et vendredi.

    Selon un bilan officiel vendredi soir, quatre personnes ont été tuées dans des affrontements avec les forces de sécurité. Amnesty International a dénoncé des arrestations arbitraires, plusieurs activistes connus font partie des personnes interpelées, et la présence d’hommes « en tenue civile, armés de gourdins » aperçus « aux côtés des forces de sécurité » qui ont « pourchassé des manifestants », ainsi que la coupure du signal de chaînes de télévision.

    Cette situation insurrectionnelle n’a pas de précédent dans l’histoire récente du Sénégal. Les derniers épisodes de violences, à la fin des présidences d’Abdou Diouf (1981-2000) et d’Abdoulaye Wade (2000-2012), n’avaient pas atteint une telle ampleur.

    Lorsqu’il a été arrêté, Ousmane Sonko, 46 ans, classé troisième à l’élection présidentielle de 2019, se rendait au palais de justice de Dakar, où il était convoqué dans le cadre d’une plainte pour « viols et menaces de mort », déposée début février par l’employée d’un salon de massage. Ses avocats et partisans considèrent cette procédure comme le résultat d’un « complot mal ficelé » visant à l’éliminer de la course pour la présidentielle de 2024.

    Dès le dépôt de cette plainte, les autorités ont fait installer un barrage filtrant autour du domicile du leader du parti Pastef (Patriotes du Sénégal pour le travail, l’éthique et la fraternité) et obtenu de manière accélérée la levée de son immunité parlementaire, confortant les soupçons d’une machination politique. De fait, Ousmane Sonko dérange Macky Sall, à qui la rumeur prête l’intention de se représenter pour un troisième mandat (non prévu par la Constitution). Il est devenu son principal opposant depuis la nomination, fin 2020, de l’ex-premier ministre Idrissa Seck au Conseil économique, social et environnemental.

    Cet ancien inspecteur des impôts, radié de la fonction publique pour avoir accusé publiquement des personnalités d’avoir bénéficié d’avantages fiscaux illégaux, dont le frère de Macky Sall, tient un langage nouveau dans le champ politique sénégalais.

    Manifestations tournant à l’émeute, dans la quartier de Colobane, le 5 mars 2021, à Dakar, après l’arrestation de l’opposant Ousmane Sonko. © Seyllou / AFP
    Plaidant pour une meilleure gouvernance, dénonçant la gestion du pétrole et du gaz par les autorités, il milite aussi pour plus de souveraineté économique et monétaire – le Sénégal est membre de la zone franc, contrôlée par l’État français. Il est devenu l’un des rares hommes politiques d’Afrique francophone à demander une refonte des relations avec la France, fustigeant aussi une « bourgeoisie compradore » qui profite d’un système construit pour satisfaire l’étranger et une minorité de Sénégalais. « Il n’y a pas de sentiment antifrançais. Il y a un sentiment pro-africain, expliquait-il en 2019 à ses collègues députés. Nous n’avons rien contre la France ou les États-Unis, mais nous avons des intérêts à gérer. »

    C’est ce discours qui l’a rendu populaire auprès d’une partie de la jeunesse (les moins de 20 ans représentent plus de la moitié des 16 millions d’habitants), de plus en plus sensible à l’idée de mettre fin à un « système néocolonial », à « la domination étrangère, surtout française », comme l’a récemment redit un membre du collectif Frapp (Front pour une révolution anti-impérialiste populaire et panafricaine). Car depuis que Macky Sall est au pouvoir (élu en 2012, puis réélu en 2019 à l’issue d’un scrutin controversé), il entretient des liens étroits avec Paris et de nombreuses entreprises françaises se sont installées dans le pays, donnant l’impression d’une « recolonisation économique » de la France, certaines bénéficiant de gros contrats aux retombées faibles pour la population.

    Le projet d’un train express régional (TER) devant relier Dakar à l’aéroport international Blaise-Diagne illustre bien ce à quoi assistent les Sénégalais. Conçu pour un prix exorbitant (1,3 milliard d’euros pour 55 kilomètres), il a été construit et doit être exploité par des entreprises essentiellement françaises, dont Engie, Thales, Eiffage, la SNCF, la RATP, Alstom, etc.

    Le Sénégal s’est, de surcroît, endetté auprès de la France pour 230 millions d’euros afin de financer cet ouvrage, dont la construction a bouleversé le quotidien de milliers de personnes. Prévu pour rouler à partir de 2019, ce train, qui ne sera vraisemblablement accessible financièrement qu’à une infime partie des citoyens, n’est toujours pas en service. Pendant ce temps, la pauvreté touche près de 40 % de la population.

    Sans perspectives, des milliers de jeunes tentent d’émigrer : les départs par l’océan vers les îles Canaries ont beaucoup augmenté ces derniers mois. Le nombre de morts aussi : plus de 500 personnes se sont noyées dans des naufrages entre octobre et novembre 2020. Un chiffre record, probablement en deçà de la réalité. Les populations ne font qu’emprunter « le même chemin que suivent leurs ressources », soulignait Ousmane Sonko en 2019 dans un discours à l’Assemblée nationale. Tant que des intérêts étrangers viendront « piller nos ressources avec la complicité de nos élites complexées, de nos leaders, on ne pourra jamais régler cette question » de l’émigration clandestine, avait-il ajouté.

    Ce n’est donc pas un hasard si des magasins Auchan, des boutiques Orange et des stations Total ont été prioritairement visés par les émeutiers. Déjà, en décembre 2020, des centaines de pêcheurs manifestaient leur détresse après le renouvellement des accords de pêche avec l’Union européenne, estimant qu’ils leur étaient défavorables.

    En 2018, l’économiste Ndongo Samba Sylla avait prévenu dans une interview à la radio privée Sud FM : « Les contradictions s’accumulent. On a une jeunesse qui est là, de plus en plus nombreuse, et on a un système politique qui dit à ces jeunes : “Vous n’avez pas d’avenir.” Cette jeunesse ne va pas pouvoir rester là, à ne rien faire. Tôt ou tard, si on ne va pas vers des réformes audacieuses pour plus de démocratie, plus de souveraineté, plus de libertés, le système va imploser. » Ainsi, le « modèle démocratique sénégalais », tant vanté, révèle aujourd’hui ses nombreuses failles. Les mesures répressives prises dans le cadre de la lutte contre la pandémie de Covid-19, avec l’instauration d’un couvre-feu, ont fissuré un peu plus l’édifice : pénalisant les nombreux travailleurs du secteur informel, elles ont renforcé les frustrations.

    Pour l’instant, le pouvoir maintient sa ligne. Le ministre de l’intérieur, Antoine Félix Abdoulaye Diome, a blâmé, vendredi soir, les manifestants, évoquant des « actes de nature terroriste » et accusant Ousmane Sonko d’être responsable des violences. Ce dernier était toujours en garde à vue dimanche matin, après avoir été inculpé vendredi pour « participation à une manifestation non autorisée » et « troubles à l’ordre public », en lien avec les échauffourées qui ont eu lieu avant son arrestation entre ses partisans et les forces de l’ordre.

    Les partis d’opposition et mouvements de la société civile ont prévu de nouvelles manifestations lundi.
    #Sénégal #Néocolonial #freesenegal

  • Guéri du Covid, Baldé raconte : "Un jour, ma femme a cru que j’étais mort…’’
    https://www.seneweb.com/news/Politique/gueri-du-covid-balde-raconte-quot-un-jou_n_339599.html

    Invité sur le plateau de Dclique, le maire de Ziguinchor, Abdoulaye Baldé revient sur son combat contre le coronavirus. Il explique comment la maladie l’avait terrassé et les frayeurs de sa famille. Guéri, il précise la raison pour laquelle il a été pris en charge en France."Je ne suis pas allé me soigner en France, j’ai été contaminé ici au Sénégal. J’étais déjà asymptomatique avant de quitter le pays, d’ailleurs j’ai chopé le virus à l’Assemblée nationale. Je devais aller en mission au niveau de la Tunisie et j’ai rencontré le maire de Paris. A partir du troisième jour, j’ai commencé à ressentir de la fatigue. Mais malgré ça , le quatrième jour j’ai encore pris l’avion pour aller en France. Une fois sur Paris, j’ai refait des tests et le résultat est revenu positif. Ne pouvant pas effectuer le voyage, j’étais obligé de rester pour me soigner’’, explique le député-maire.

    #Covid-19#migrant#migration#senegal#france#sante#circulationtherapeutique#test#frontiere#elite