Author: emma3kidz

Information is Power so why restrict its flow ? ……

Obtaining the correct information regarding your options in life is so important – to everyone, but especially to a refugee.  Think – after escaping war, travelling a dangerous road to find safety and then to be stuck/ unsure of your options in a foreign country.  This situation is the norm for the majority of refugees in Greece, and must be so incredibly frustrating and depressing when you are trying to provide safety and a better life for your family.

I am not sure why the authorities don’t provide clear / concise information, and make it available in all the relevant languages.  I could be cynical about the reasons behind this ‘oversight’,..?

During my short stint at Hara Hotel, working with the lovely people at Northern Lights Aid, information regarding options for refugees seemed to be elusive, not quite within your grasp. The only concrete information I could give regarding the asylum situation was; ‘no the borders are not going to open’.  This was about it, as I was terrified of giving the wrong information.

When I got back to England, I started to do some ‘research’ regarding refugee options for those in Greece.  I did have one particular person in mind who I wanted to help personally, but I reckoned that any information I could get may be useful to Northern Lights Aid and the people in Hara Hotel.

My ‘research’ (I must put this is inverted commas) .. was really asking for help and advice from contacts.  I am not a legal person or I am unfamiliar with asylum procedures generally and so did not really know where to start.

How it works when you need help in the Refugee Volunteer Community – is very different than you may be used to…  This is a network of people who really want to help in any way they can. If they can’t help you then they know someone else who may be able to..if they cant then they may someone else who can… the network is extensive and information/ contacts are shared freely.  A network of unpaid (generally), experienced people with a variety of skills who all have the same goal.  It is really awe inspiring and driven by solidarity and team work.

So with regard to Hara and information provision.. it so happened that I contacted someone I knew (well kind of knew), he knew someone in the know, who happened to be in the area the very next week.  This person ‘in the know’ is the founder of the organisation RefuComm – dedicated to providing up to date information in a number of languages for refugees.  She worked quickly, utilizing the amazing multi-lingual refugees for the translating work.

Then – bish bash bosh – an Infotent was set up .. just like that… These people – as in all these volunteer groups and organisations –  just blow me away with their; drive, knowledge and sheer persistence to make a difference.

Information is power and without it we can be rendered powerless.. not a great position for anyone to be in, especially a vulnerable refugee family ..

Zombie – violence caused such silence, who are we mistaken?

 Follow link to song and video ..Zombie

Just happened that I listened to this song today – I haven’t heard it for many years.  It was written as a protest song following the IRA bombings in Warrington in 1993.  However, it could be released today and fit our mixed up world quite perfectly.  A world with many sleep walking zombies …

I get that not everyone feels as passionate as I do about this humanitarian crisis, lots do but many don’t.  However, the failure of our world leaders to manage this crisis in Europe and many others around the world humanly…..plus  the widespread public disinterest with regard to massive human suffering, is a threat to humanity and freedom globally.  We should all be really worried about the EU closing borders, putting up barbed wire fences and mistreating/rejecting vulnerable people who have no choice and nowhere to go.

Just because its not us, not our family,  this time – doesn’t mean it won’t be next time.

We are a global family – we travel the world, eat food from around the world, watch films from around the world, study and make friends with people from around the world, trade around the world … More now than any other time we need to realise this, people need to be treated equally.  Children and innocent civilians killed in Syria, Palestine, Afghanistan, and Iraq should create just as much outrage as those killed on the streets of Paris, Belgium or America.

 Spread the human stories, speak out and help people to open their eyes and not be zombies … 

Follow link to song and video ..Zombie

“Another head hangs lowly
Child is slowly taken
And the violence caused such silence
Who are we mistaken

But you see it’s not me
It’s not my family
In your head, in your
Head they are fighting
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head,
In your head they are cryin’

In your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie

What’s in your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie

Another mother’s breakin’
Heart is taking over
When the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken

It’s the same old theme since nineteen-sixteen
In your head,
In your head they’re still fightin’
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head, in your head they are dyin’

In your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie

What’s in your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie”

I am 43 . These are some of the things I have experienced for the first time (both good and bad .. in no particular order) over the last 5 and a bit months as a direct result of becoming involved .. if you are thinking of getting  involved or volunteering .. I urge you to do so, you won’t regret it.

I have; traveled alone, written and spoken arabic and farsi (well in a fashion), drank chai (lots of it), learnt the universal signs for; drowning/ throat slitting /tent/ bombs/ closed borders, been stopped and checked by the police, sorted through tonnes of wet cold clothes, been welcomed so warmly and offered food drink  love and conversation by people who have next to nothing, left my family for 20 days in a 5 month period,met an inspirational greek orthodox priest, flown out with 40kg of luggage and come back with 7kg, sorted clothes in a warehouse, made lifelong friends in a matter of days, ridden on the back of a motorbike, cried with grown men over the inequalities and injustice of this world, visited my local MP (I now do this on a monthly basis), hugged a child I don’t know for 20 min – 10 min sobbing uncontrollably 10 min in a trance, stayed up all night when it’s not a party, helped  used fake life jackets as tent insulation, been on television (on Question Time), written a press article , been interviewed by the radio, come to the attention of Internet trolls, felt pretty much every emotion possible x 100, written a blog, walked through a border crossing alone with no idea what to do next, been bought breakfast my a taxi driver, drunk irish coffee from a vending machine, felt so ineffective and hopeless, felt so useful and hopeful, felt incredibly deep connections and solidarity with people I barely know, bought over 500 bras and knickers in a week, felt increasing unstoppable shame of our leaders and right wing press , witnessed traumatic scenes akin to those shown from the second world war, held a woman’s hand in a festival style tent half destroyed by gales whilst she miscarried her baby, been handed a baby to cuddle from someone i don’t know (and she fell asleep so sweet), seen such resilience and strength from people who have been through so much…. did I say … met so many incredible people I must repeat that I met so many incredible people… These are just a few things .. its very hard to put into words .. . if you are still unsure about whether to volunteer or get involved  .. don’t be … its important to make a stand in whatever way you can  ..I promise that you won’t regret it..

 My name is Andro, I am your brother ..

I met Andro on my first day distributing food parcels in a makeshift camp in Northern Greece.  We arrived with 240 carrier bags full of fresh and dried food; potatoes, tomatoes, onions, rice, garlic – which we had put together earlier that morning.  Each bag had enough food for a family of four.

Food ready to be packed

Van packed full with food for distribution

Example of food prepared in camp

As we were preparing for the tent to tent distribution, a group of young lads approached the van.. They were to be our helpers.. I didn’t know this then, but these guys help out 7 days a week – without them, life would be a lot harder for the small group of volunteers I was working with.

Groups of 2 volunteers were assigned an area to distribute the food to.  Andro offered to come with me and help, as it was my first distribution.  The first thing you notice about Andro is his disarming smile, you feel at once at ease with him.  We nicknamed Andro ‘Fancy Pants’ as he always seemed to look sharp and fashionable, it was a complete mystery as to how he managed this.. but I never saw him look disheveled or scruffy.

As you can imagine the bags containing groceries were pretty heavy to lug around the site, however, Andro would not let me carry the bags.  Just like a caring brother, he came around with me for the whole distribution – carrying the bags and going to get more from the van when we ran out.  Each day, he helped me in this way; as well as carrying the bags, he helped with translating and general communication.  However, when I moved onto ladies underwear distribution .. unfortunately, Andro could not help any more !!

Andro was invaluable for crowd control at camp, at only 22 (he had his 22nd birthday during my visit) he could manage large groups of frustrated people.  With either a smile or a firm look or a tut and shake of his head.  Always seemingly cheery – Whenever I saw Andro at camp, he would come up with a smile and a hug, asking if I needed help.. When I think back, it truly breaks my heart that he remains in limbo, clinging onto a tiny glimmer of hope.

Andro is in camp with his mum, other members of his family are in Germany.  He is good friends with Samer (see previous blog), as Samer is alone, Andro’s mum has also become close with Samer.

Andro and his mum are Christians from Baghdad, I wonder how they are after hearing the horrific news which came out yesterday from Baghdad? It must so hard for them.

A quick note regarding religion – I only found out that Andro was a Christian after I asked if I could write about him and asked him for a few details.  Of all the people I met during my visit to Northern Greece, I realised that not one person had mentioned religion – either theirs or mine.

We talked about; family, where we were from, what we did for a living, how shit the situation is, how dangerous their beloved countries are, how they never really wanted to leave, how scared they were crossing the Aegean Sea, how worried they are about their children;s education, how much they missed loved ones, how the borders wont open, how you get a belly which wont go away after you have kids,…… I could go on and on .. but religion was not mentioned once …

This is important, as religion is one of the things that; politicians, those in power and extremist groups of all persuasions try to divide us by – try to scare us with – try to make us believe that we are fundamentally different for their own purposes they want us divided.. When, above all we are human and religion doesn’t fundamentally divide us or even feature in conversation for the majority of us…

He is Andro, he is your brother

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.

David’s tent is located at the border between Greece and Macedonia

Children playing on the railway lines at Idomeni camp

Willem at the border

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.

David’s young Uncle and an Italian Activist holding a flag of solidarity and peace at the border

Sayid at the border

My name is David, I am your first born child …

Government U Turn on 3,000 unaccompanied minors – shows that people power CAN make a difference – my MP did n’t listen but many others did – find your voice and don’t give up.  

Since returning from Northern Greece, my husband and I have been trying to raise awareness regarding the plight of refugees coming from war torn countries.  Plus we have been trying to put pressure on our Local MP Sir Edward Garnier to stand up for refugee rights in the House of Commons.

In April, I visited Edward Garnier at one of his surgeries.  I made some notes on the 20 min meeting, in a previous blog; “Trying every avenue available to say ‘this is just not good enough'”

With regard to a discussion we had around the 3000 unaccompanied minors please see below;

“The vote for the UK to accept 3000 unaccompanied minors later this month; I asked Mr Garnier if he would vote to accept these children and speak up for them in the House of Commons.  He said that he would if it was shown that there were places they could be cared for.  I instigated a discussion about the vast number of people in this country who have the willingness, capability and resources to foster these children.  So many people want to help, OK – safe guarding is paramount, but it could be done and the Government cannot hide behind bureaucracy.  I think he agreed with me on this point, but again was a little non-committal.”

I am passionate about the fact that many people in this country, are both capable and really keen to help look after orphaned children, or take refugees into their home.  There must be a way to fast track the fostering/adoption procedures to help give these children a future.

Whilst I was in Northern Greece, I received word that the vote had gone against accepting the 3000 minors, of course Edward Garnier was one of the MPs who voted against.

My husband wrote to Garnier asking for an explanation as to why he voted in this way.  The reply was not what I would have expected of an elected representative.  He referred us to an article written by a reporter caller Fraser Nelson in the Telegraph (Fraser is a Conservative supporter).

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2016/04/29/david-cameron-must-continue-to-stand-firm-and-keep-europes-refug/

The lines we should pay particular attention to were underlined, just in case our attention span was not up to scratch.

My husband replied;

Dear Mr Garnier,

Thank you for taking the time to get back to me with your response. It was interesting to receive your reply justifying your vote not to allow lone refugee children into the country on the day that your party leader backed down and agreed he was wrong. It is always refreshing when someone can admit that they have made a mistake especially when that person is in a position to really help vulnerable people. Perhaps on reflection you’d like to join your party leader and admit that you got this wrong and that these defenceless and vulnerable children deserve our compassion and help?

https://uk.news.yahoo.com/pm-climbdown-syria-child…

I read the article by Fraser Nelson from the Daily Telegraph with interest (many thanks for underlining certain passages, it really helped me to understand the main thrust of his argument). I’d rather hoped that you would have your own opinions on the matter rather than referring me to a journalist. Many journalists have interesting ideas and viewpoints and having a free media is of course welcome. However, I was under the impression that elected MP’s ran the country on behalf of the people and that they are elected because they have ideas of their own which they are willing to defend and which are supported by those who vote for them. I could perhaps have cited an article from another newspaper such as The Guardian or The Independent to support my own ideas but instead preferred to tell you what I thought- it is a shame that you couldn’t have done the same.

Best Wishes,

Phil

Mr Garnier sent us the Hansard report for 25 April, as proof that the matter was discussed fully so that the correct decision could be made.  Unfortunately, Mr Garnier did not speak up regarding the 3000 children, even though he was presented with the perfect opportunity when Keir Starmer made the very same point I had only a few days earlier.

excuse the underlining 🙂

I will be going to see Mr Garnier at his next surgery … and maybe the one after that.

In the meantime – I will try to get the human story told – counteract negative press and scare tactics.  Yesterday, I again met with Nick Shaw for a quick interview.  Also, BBC Radio Leicester would like me back on the Sunday morning show with Monica (although apparently some football story about Leicester City FC is taking a lot of time ??)

I know these things are small – but they will grow – I am sure of it.  We will not give up

“You go passing right for wrong and wrong for right – people only stand for that for just so long”

Natalie Merchant

I am Ali ..  I am your father…

I first met Ali and his family on a warm sunny day, in a makeshift camp in Northern Greece. I have changed their names and will not post pictures of them to protect their privacy.

It was around midday as I approached their tent .. inside were Ali’s wife (Sabine) and daughter.  They were sat next to Ali who was lying on the floor on a blanket, in a small tent you may use for a weekend’s camping at the most.  The grandchildren were running around outside. Sabine was trying to remove head lice from her daughters beautiful long jet black hair, by hand. You see.. there is no running water at this camp, meaning special shampoos can’t be used to eradicate the lice which have spread throughout the camp. Sabine shrugged her shoulders, pointed at the lice she had diligently removed – her face clearly said  “what can I do? “..Resignation at the situation she was in.   I mirrored her expression and touched her hand. She smiled weakly and touched my hand in return.

Alis daughter spoke a little English and she gestured towards her father. “He is sick” she said. I looked at Ali who seemed unable to move, yes, indeed he did look very sick. She handed me an empty packet of pills .. “end” she said pleading. Her father had ran out of medication.. she looked to me to help. Me, I was handing out knickers and bras .. me.. I have no medical training. . me.. I kept calm on the outside, but my heart was pounding.

I left the knickers and bras and went to see if I could find help . . I spotted an MSF T shirt and ran to the man wearing it. Asking him to come to Ali who was so very sick .. he told me he wasn’t a doctor.. I took his hand anyway and brought him to the tent .. we showed him the empty packet of pills . . He made a phone call and informed us that the medics would arrive in around an hour at the camp .. His wife was to bring them to Ali. I presume Ali got his medication .. Ali seemed better after this.. smiling, always keen to share a cup of chai.

My friend .. A tough Norwegian biker called Eirik who had cried on my shoulder more than once, became close with Ali and his family .. me though, I left on a plane for England.

Example of food prepared in camp

Eirik – the tough Norwegian biker with a broken heart

It turns out that 58 year old Ali had a heart problem.. he required proper medical help. Instead, he left his war-torn homeland with his wife, daughter and grandchildren to seek safety in Europe .. now trapped in Northern Greece .. living in a small tent, unable to work in the profession he had trained – and unable to send the kids to school, waiting in limbo, relying on strangers for survival .. however, Ali still invited Eirik every day with a smile .. to sit with him and his family and drink tea always extending the hand of friendship.

Alis family loved him .. as a husband, father and grandfather .. that much was glaringly obvious .. yesterday however, on 4 May 2016 .. in a foreign country .. living in a refugee camp thousands of miles from home.. Ali passed away. His family are broken, devastated..Lost without Ali .. please imagine for just one moment that Ali was your beloved father .. of course, Eirik will be there for the family as much as he can .. They will receive the support of people in the neighboring tents .. but they are refugees trapped in a foreign country, unsure of their future, especially now they have to face it without the beloved head of their family ..

He was Ali .. he was your father

He is Samer.. he is my son

I met Samer on my second day in Northern Greece.  At first I thought he was American, he speaks great English with a twang of an American accent.  I have waited a few days to write about Samer, I needed some space and quiet to gather my thoughts and emotions.

Within minutes of meeting Samer, you know that he is a very special person, he has an aura of kindness and warmth.  Of course it helps that you can talk to him on an emotional level due to his language skills, but it is not just this… it’s much more than this.

Samer is 22 years old, a couple of years older than my eldest son (Joseph) and a few months older than my nephew (Matty).  He is generally full of smiles with a dry sense of humour that a Scouser would be proud of.

 Samer is in Northern Greece on his own, his parents died when he was young and he was raised in an SOS Childrens Village in Syria.  He has an older brother, who is in Germany .. but due to the crazy asylum registration rules, for now he is stuck in the camp.

Samer spends his time at the camp working with the volunteer groups and helping with translations.  Believe me, he is always there to help and works for many hours each day.  One night when I was on tent duty a fight broke out, nothing serious – these things are to be expected when people are living in such stressful and uncertain situations.  Samer was first there on the scene to break up the fight, he spoke calmly as he held one of the people involved in the fight – calmed the situation and after a few minutes everyone dispersed and went back to their tents.  After this he told me; “I really hate fights”.  Samer fights darkness with light – that is one of his special qualities.

Samer was at University in Damascus studying English, but due to the war he was forced to leave.  In a dark moment, he asked me “what future do I have mum – stuck here living like an animal?” What could I say…. ? .. “the borders are closed, the Politicians are self-serving, we try with demonstrations and we march to try change their minds – but they don’t listen, the media won’t even tell your story.…?”

My husband and I have worked hard to provide opportunities for our 3 sons.  The older two; Joe and Ben (18 and 16) – they have chosen the paths they want to walk – we are immensely proud of their achievements so far.  They have had choices and they have had the freedom to develop and grow.  Samer deserves at least this, he deserves some choices – I know in my heart that he would grasp any opportunity to develop, grow and learn with both hands – and never let go.

Samer is not alone, there are many young people trapped in Europe right now with massive potential to be successful (however you want to define successful) .. they deserve a chance.. These young adults will enhance our society in so many ways – I wish the media and the self-serving Politicians would open their eyes and see this.

He is Samer… He is my son

My name is Aisha, I am your favourite Secondary School Teacher …

I met Aisha (not her real name) at a makeshift camp on a petrol station (EKO) in Northern Greece.  She was stranded here with her husband, Ahmed and 6 children.  Aisha and Ahmed had spent all their savings to escape the war in Syria.  They used to live in Aleppo where Aisha was a Maths Teacher and Ahmed a Senior Mechanical Engineer at a Petroleum Plant.  Unfortunately, I was unable to take any pictures as they still have family in Aleppo, who would be in danger if the regime knew they had escaped. This family had been through so much before reaching EKO.

They had travelled the most common route through Turkey to Lesvos, Athens and then to the border if Macedonia.  However, by the time they reached the border it was shut.  They made their ‘home’ in a UNHCR tent at EKO Petrol Station around 2 months ago. With no money and the wrong passports, this highly educated, gentle, kind family were forced to rely on others to provide the essentials for survival.

Their children are lively and bright and happy, seemingly unaffected apart from the eldest 2 – a boy of 16 and a girl of 14.  They seemed listless and bored with camp life, so little to do to occupy their time.

I asked Ahmed where he would like to settle, he said; anywhere that is safe, where his children can be educated and he and his wife can make a basic living to provide for their family.  No more than this.. They had a good life in Syria, both parents with decent jobs and the eldest 4 children doing well at school.  But in the end it became too dangerous to stay and so they fled, looking for safety.. Fate brought them to this makeshift camp in Northern Greece.

Each day Ahmed spends hours trying to make the asylum claim for his family via Skype, to no avail.  At the moment, claiming asylum from EKO is pretty much impossible.  Aisha told me that many people, in frustration with the situation try to cross the border into Macedonia – through the forests.  The lucky ones may get through, but most get returned. Sometimes they have been beaten and dumped back over the border – poorer and in worse shape than when they left.  She told me that she couldn’t put her family through this (the youngest only 1 year old).

Education is very important to Aisha, she worries that her children are missing out on their education.  Many months has passed since they left Syria – and they have no idea when or if they will be granted asylum in Europe.  Aisha doesn’t want a lot, she wants less than most people in the UK, and certainly does not want hand outs or charity.  She is clever and proud, she wants to work hard and provide for her family.  Aisha just wants a chance for her and her family to have a ‘normal’ life.  Life is camp is merely existence – you get that don’t you?

I can imagine that Aisha would be a great teacher, she is so calm and confident..  You would be happy if your children were taught by Aisha ..

My name is Aisha, I am your favourite Secondary School Teacher …

My name is Amena, I am your sister..

I met Amena (not her real name) in at a makeshift camp in Hara Hotel.  The day was not a good day, this was clear from daybreak.  The wind was so strong as I left my guest house in Macedonia, I felt some fear as I thought about the tents the people in Hara were living in.

My fears were well founded, my stomach churned as I approached Hara.  The scene was one of devastation. Many of the tents were grounded and the others looked like they would take off into the air any time soon.  If this were a festival site, I would feel some sympathy for the residents/festival goers – we would all say “ah what bad luck to pick such a weekend for Glastonbury/ T in the Park / Bestival etc – but this ‘camp’ site is ‘home’ to the families here, it is their shelter, their refuge from the outside world…. and it was seemingly  gone.

My friend Willem and I surveyed the scene, paralyzed for what seemed like hours, but was really seconds.  We went around the camp telling people that we would help to put the tents up when the wind went down.  The people were gracious and shrugged their shoulders, smiling – no real panic or despair .. just acceptance.

This was also the day that the owner of the hotel decided to turn off the water.. the one tap which provided water for washing/cleaning and cooking.  The people I was working with had prepared for this – they had emergency bottled water, plus an IBC of drinking water to distribute.  The water from the IBC was close to running out, so I went to find Willem, the co-ordinator for the day, to tell him….

Willem just looked at me and shook his head .. I think there may be a lady having a miscarriage he said .. Thats when I met Amena…

Willem had contacted the emergency services, an ambulance was on the way.  Amena though was in her small tent, which was being blown around in the wind.

I entered the tent and sat next to Amena who was laying on the floor, I took her hand and stroked her hair.  She smiled at me, calm and beautiful, even though she kept having stomach pains and must have been very scared.  She had two young children, one a 2 year old boy with a mass of curly hair was jumping around, clearly upset because he knew there was something wrong with his mum.  I tried to keep him occupied with a foam ball (the only play thing in this 4 man tent) and cuddled him, whilst also trying to hold up the tent which was in a state of collapse with the buffeting wind.  Her second son came in, she told me he was 6, he looked only about 4.  I found out later that this young boy had cerebral palsy, I gave him my hat to wear and he was happy with this for the moment.  Amena and I talked – as well as two mums who don’t speak the same language – she thanked me and squeezed my hand.

The medical crew arrived and took Amena off in an ambulance with her mother, her children howled and cried seeing their mother leaving.  I cant imagine what they were thinking.  Their father was at a loss, holding them and trying to comfort them.

Later on I saw a lady pushing the curly headed 2 year old boy around in a buggy, he had had milk and cuddles but was still crying for his mum – unable to sleep.  The next day, she said that the little boy had eventually fallen asleep whilst sobbing for his mum.

Amena lost her baby, and I never saw her again.  But I hope that her story ends happily.  I heard that she and her family were granted a humanitarian visa to Switzerland.  Someone in authority had seen their case and ‘made it happen’.   I think of her often.

You would be very proud to have Amena as your sister… she is kind, calm, loving and brave.

Who is Amena? she is your sister …