Refugee Stories
In progress.
From the very first time I stepped into a refugee camp I never let up being dismayed at how we have tried to rob dignity from people, allowed it to be so, or something like that. Of course that feeling is not just assigned to those I meet in refugee camps. However, given how refugees are portrayed in the media, particularly through politicians and states that have turned to criminalising migration, I wanted to portray the decency within these people that gives the viewer little room to denigrate. Not to pity them but to realise a little of the story of each one of them and perhaps see potential and opportunity. Dignity is at the heart of those who migrate, as it is a desire to survive, a sense of self worth, fortitude and an enduring hope that motivates them. Infact it is all that we find dignified that unsettles them and causes them to migrate. Saftey, opportunity, care for thy neighbour, a right to express oneself without fear and access to all that we take for granted, fresh water, electricity, food, warmth. I have witnessed it in their gentle nature, their hospitality, perseverance, intellect, and their interest in others despite their own circumstances. The list is endless.
In this on going project I have sought to capture people in silence, away from the environment that so frequently comes to define them. Then as a juxtaposition, show you where they live. This project is also built on the belief that the closer we get, the more we find we have in common.
Abdel
“ I left Damascus, Syria in 2013. First I moved to a city near Palestine and then spent five years in Istanbul. I managed to get work in Turkey but they don’t want us there. They use us, hit us. When I took a bus they would speak badly of me, like I was an animal.. They just want to use refugees. Some bad Turkish, some bad.
I have a daugther in Damascus, not safe, wife too, very difficult. I have never seen my daughter. I was in the army in 2011, national service. I left as I did not want to fight this war. I finished my studies as a vetenarian before the army.
I hope to bring my wife and daughter to safety. That is all.”
Saleem
“I am from Babylon. I left in 2017 in an attempt to reach my sister and her family who were in Austria at the time. I first went to Turkey, then by boat to Chios where I stayed for three weeks. I approached a smuggler who created a fake ‘Auswize’ which enabled me to leave Chios.
I went to board a boat but the police saw the visa was fake so didnt let me leave the island. After arguing with the smuggler he created ‘a family’ which succeeded at getting us to Athens. We then split. I took a train to Thessaloniki where I met a Pakistani smuggler. We tried to cross to Macedonia but got caught by the Greek Police. A group of three hundred people tried to cross the border together. Eventually we got into Macedonia and then walked for the next six days to Serbia. In those six days I ate two meals. On reaching the Macedonia-Serbia border we were attacked by the Serbian army. They beat me but I managed to run. I then crossed the border intending to get to Belgrade but i didn’t get there, I got caught again at the train station. I stayed there in the woods for a couple of day’s and then got sent back to Thessaloniki.
My sister and her family ended up in Moria. That is another story. So I came here to join them. I hope to move on into Europe and build a life for myself. I left a country at war where it was impossible to stay safe or survive. I am educated and speak several languages so I am sure I can make something of myself. “
Abdel
“I am 67 years old. I got a blue stamp because I have had a heart attack and two strokes. I have come with my six children, all who are under 18. I have three girls and three boys. One of the girls was married but her husband was killed by a war plane. She is here with her two son’s.
I am from the city of Deir ez-Zur. I was a Tailor. I journeyed one month to get here and now do not know what will happen.“
Ahmed
I am 17 years old. A bone was taken from my leg and put into my arm after I was injured by a war plane that bombed Deir ez-Zur. I was treated in Syria, put to sleep in Damascus. It was eight months before I could stand up. I spent two months in hospital. I can’t run or walk easily. My weakness prevents me from helping my sick father.
