My name is David, I am your first born child …
I met David and his mum and dad on a beautiful spring evening at Idomeni camp. During my brief planning of my trip from England I had thought that I would be working at Idomeni. I hadn’t quite realised that there was such massive need for help at some of the lesser known, smaller makeshift camps. So, my plans changed and I spent the majority of my time at Hara Hotel just a few miles from Idomeni.
Me and my ‘friend/work colleague/brother’ (delete as applicable – all are relevant) – Willem had a couple of hours off one afternoon, so decided to visit Idomeni. It felt strange to walk around without a purpose, with no specific tasks or work to complete – like some refugee tourist. However, I am so glad we did. For one thing we met the little baby miracle – David.
Some pictures taken at Idomeni camp to give you an idea where David lives.
Willem and I sat on a bench looking across at the a couple of Macedonian Border Guards, just metres away. A lady (Shareen) came and sat with us, along with her 2 children (a girl aged 10 and a boy aged 7), also joined by some neighbours from tents nearby. We drank Chai and talked, making communication using hand signals, gestures and through a young boy called Assad of about 16 who spoke some English.
Shareen told us of how dangerous and violent it was in Syria. How people were being blown up, beheaded and tortured. She had sent her husband away a few months earlier (to avoid being forced to fight or killed following refusal to fight for either side) … He was now in Germany. Things did not get any better in Syria, so Shareen fled with her 2 children to ‘safety’, desperate to be reunited with her husband, however, she arrived just as the borders closed. Shareen is my age, we bonded straight away and held hands as she told me how scared she was as she crossed the Aegean Sea in a rubber boat. She thought they would drown. She explained that now she was stuck here, she couldn’t go forward or back. Together we did laugh about many things – such as how the children say “my friend, my friend” over and over to the volunteers or visitors to the camp. Assad said how this just drove him mad, after 2 months of hearing it many times a day ..he laughed at how much this small thing bugged him so much.
A young man (in his mid/late 20’s) and his younger brother came over to our little gathering. Shareen told us that this young man had a new born baby, of only 10 days old. Shocked, Willem and I quickly passed our congratulations. This handsome Syrian man named Sayid was so proud, he thanked us. Then he said “yes he is a miracle, but we have a big problem, why don’t they open the borders?” What can you say? I told him that there were people across Europe protesting, but those in power usually don’t listen.
Sayid’s emotions were strong and complex – so happy and proud of his first born and so frustrated at being trapped – tantalizingly close to safety and a new life, but with no hope of the borders opening. Willem asked if we could see the baby, Sayid’s face lit up – “of course” he said and showed us over to his tent.
Baby David was fast asleep on the floor of the tent, so peaceful and content. His mother was truly beautiful, sat next to him – rightly proud of her baby. Sayid gestured to his son, “you see, a miracle” he said. We agreed and left the tent.
Outside, Sayid and his young brother told us that they wanted to seek asylum in Holland. Willem, who is from Holland was delighted and gave them his number, asking them to contact him if they reach their destination. We walked away, hoping and praying that this family do manage to reach Holland, Willem declared that if they needed to they could stay with him. He means it.
My name is David, I am your first born child …
Solidarity for refugees 