Thessaloniki | Story no3Walking together

I am from Baghdad, Iraq and I left in January 2016. The reason was that the situation was extremely dangerous. There is ISIS, Para statist units, and in reality there is an on-going war. Everyone is in danger either from bombs blowing up or somebody killing you. So at the beginning we travelled together with my sister to north Iraq in the area of Kurdistan where my story with the smugglers started. You have to know that although the Kurdish area belongs to Iraq, I myself as an Arab cannot move freely. So, only by paying smugglers I could move inside my country. After 15 days I managed to reach Turkey and from there I paid other smugglers to come to Greece, to Lesbos. Altogether my journey cost me 3.500 dollars. From Lesbos I went to Piraeus and from there the police took us by buses first in Larisa and then at the EKO petrol station near the borders at Idomeni. I stayed in this camp for three months and at some point in May the police took us to the camp in Vasilika, outside Thessaloniki.

The camp in Vasilika is in some distance from the village. Though this place is not for human beings, because it is far from the city and because the neighbouring villages were against refugees, organising racist gatherings and we were very afraid there. The camp itself was a terrible space. It was a deserted poultry meat processing factory where they piled up 1500 people like chickens. At the beginning for all these people there were only three toilets, the food was totally inedible, if you gave it to your dog he wouldn’t eat it. Every day we were eating the same food, either beans or potatoes. We never had any meat and always extremely small portions. There was no care for infants and babies or small children didn’t have milk for days. The situation started improving in small steps, though in reality each step took a month. Also the summer was extremely difficult because there was a heat wave and inside the cement building it was terribly hot. Now that it is winter it is again terribly difficult but cold. In reality our life is like one of constant prison. From the borders with the fences they took us to Vasilika camp which is a place like prison. From Vasilika we can’t go anywhere, if you want to buy something you have to walk quite a long time to the nearest petrol station. If you want to go to Thessaloniki you need to take two buses and you still reach the city after 2 hours. Also solidarity people, volunteers and NGOs were not allowed on site. I can certainly say that the EKO petrol station in the borders looked like paradise in comparison to what we lived in Vasilika. At least at the petrol station camp there was a school, a kitchen; there were many volunteers, there was almost everything, in contrast, in Vasilika there was nothing. I am a cinematographer and I would like to make a documentary movie about the life at the camp but the police and the authorities did not let me to. They don’t allow you to record video or take pictures because they don’t want people from the outside to see what the situation inside the camp is. They want us to be invisible, in the dark, without voice, forgotten people.

Then we found out about the No Border Camp from actions that people were doing in the camp. I liked the idea and I came to the No Border Camp by the buses that the organisers set up daily. It was very important because it was a space where our voices could be heard, do many activities, meet people from all around Europe. I was impressed with solidarity people because they came from various faraway places to assist us, and many of them as much as before as much as after the No Border Camp stayed with us, and sincerely supported us. They are not like the NGO’s who care only how they will make money. I personally participated in a media group with photographers, directors and media activists from many countries; it was a very good experience. I also participated in the refugee assemblies that took place each day, it was very good because we were refugees from different camps, from different countries with different cultures and we all met, talked and shared our problems. It was extremely important that so many people, refugees and people in solidarity met and talked about their rights while organising demonstrations and actions to claim them.

After that summer an NGO took me and my sister in a house provided by the accommodation programme for refugees. We stayed there three months, but the house was in a very bad condition, it was in Kordelio, that is very far from the centre of the city and bus tickets were not provided. Also, they did not provide food, the house had no water, only electricity. The ceiling was rotten, there were holes in it and water was coming through. It was horrible and refugees coming need to know that the NGO houses are no heaven. Only walls, nothing else. My sister also has psychological problems and nobody cared for her, she is not seen by a doctor, the NGO did not care for her but instead just got given a house and nothing else. I am very disappointed and that makes me feel lost, I lost my hope. My life is very boring, I live in a house with my sister, and there are no friends around. Yet I do have to note that all these experiences and all these people that I met during my journey changed me. I met people with different views, different cultures, different languages, different way of life, and with some I became friends.