In 2015, 856,000 people passed through the Greek islands, and in 2017 and 2018 only just under 30 thousand (according to UNHCR). But 2019 brought already a growth – over 60,000 newcomers. Today, boats coming to Greek beaches are back again, and practice shows that you can get stuck in Lesbos for a good few years. Nikos and Katerina run a small restaurant on the island, where every refugee can feel at home and eat a meal for free.
20.06.2024
A refugee I am
Forced to flee, I become someone
I am not
These few lines from a Lao Che song have been on my mind all morning. The World Refugee Day, which we celebrate today, could easily be called World Day of Helplessness, Lack of Solidarity, Fences, Barriers, and Lack of Hospitality.
“In Nigeria, I was a metalworker; here, I am a nobody,” says John. From a pile of random things, he pulls out a plastic chair and a wooden stool for us to sit on. Embarrassed, he explains his hoarding. “In winter, we lacked everything. We barely managed to get wooden pallets to make a floor in the tent so we wouldn’t sleep in a huge puddle that formed in the middle after every rain.”
The flapping tent in a camp on the coast of the Greek island of Lesbos is the background for our entire conversation. John invites me for tea and tells the story of his journey that ended in the snare of European barbed wire.
“I traveled all over the world with my crafts. I had exhibitions in the United States and many European capitals. Once, I even visited Kraków.”
“Where would you like to go back to?”
“Most of all, to Nigeria, to my home, but that’s impossible,” he explains, completely resigned. I wish him that, saying words of comfort. I’m trying to fill the silence in John’s story, in which a tear in his eye has become the main character.
“My work gave me many opportunities. I lost everything when my government forced me to flee. I don’t blame Europe for welcoming me very differently than before. I blame my country’s authorities because they took away my dignity, opportunities, and future.”
Together with you, we reach out to them. Our goal is to restore their dignity. Visit GoodWorks 24/7 and donate at least one warm meal to people who have lost everything.
Four years have passed since our conversation. I don’t know where John is today. There is no trace of his tent in the Greek camp. Now, there are containers where new people—teachers, students, farmers, pharmacists, mechanics, artists, scientists, hairdressers—live under the common name of “refugees”.
Mateusz Gasiński
27.08.2023
The unpaved road stretches for kilometres and winds down the mountainous slopes. It cuts through bone-dry pine forests. From here to Mitylena, the island’s capital, it is more than 40 kilometres. To any sign of civilisation – more than 10. Out of sight, out of mind of all outsiders, a gigantic new refugee camp is […]
14.08.2023
Onur was a baker in Kurdistan. He is not afraid of any job. Stately, broad-shouldered, hands like vices. They have strength and feel. He arrived in Lesbos eight years ago. Abdul got off the boat on a Greek beach a year later. In Syria, he was a mechanic. He has fixed up his decrepit old […]
09.08.2023
“No disease will touch them. They are wild trees. They have already survived more than one pest.” When Nikos talks about olives, he grabs the listener’s full attention. You fall into a tunnel where there are you, Nikos and the olives. We talk like this for several hours. I don’t know how many. Nobody is […]