Aid in Aegean
A group of volunteers in Lesbos narrate the tragedy that is unfolding on the Greek island
Thousands of refugees have taken shelter at Camp Moria in Lesbos. PHOTO : FAIZA TAQI HASSAN
Once branded as Europe’s getaway, the Greek island of Lesbos has now become the ultimate destination for thousands of vulnerable refugees. The situation on ground is much worse than what you see on television or read in news reports. The blue waters surrounding the island are stained with floating bodies and abandoned life jackets as people risk it all to escape the horrors of home and get a fresh start in Europe.
Although help is aplenty in Lesbos, it is not enough to cater to the hoards of refugees who arrive on the island every day. A day after our arrival we learnt that a boat carrying refugees had just reached shore. What we saw there was overwhelming: People were scrambling out of boats, some without shoes, and throwing themselves on the sand. Most had sold all their belongings to smuggle themselves across borders and into Turkey. From there, those who can pay EUR1,500 (half price if the weather is unfavourable) book themselves a seat on a rubber dinghy or a small rowing boat to transport them to the island.As part of a group of 22 volunteers from the UK, US, Canada, Dubai, Africa and Pakistan, we were sent to Lesbos by a UK-based NGO, Zahra Trust, to help out with the escalating refugee crisis. Equipped with shrouds, warm clothes and food we arrived at Mytilene International Airport on Lesbos Island which was crowded with people from Switzerland, Germany, UK and Norway who had all come on a similar humanitarian mission.
Trying to make a differenceThose who arrive safely at the island consider themselves fortunate. “The first day I came to help, I saw a boat sink before my very eyes,” says Salim, a volunteer from the UK. “But there is nothing you can do. They are too far out in the ocean.”
When refugees first arrive in Lesbos they are registered at a camp. Once the necessary paperwork is completed, many prefer to continue their journey further into Europe while others remain in Greece.
One of the largest camps in Lesbos is Camp Moria, home to nearly 8,000 to 9,000 refugees from Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan and Bangladesh, out of which nearly 2,000 to 3,000 are orphaned children. The government-run site, assisted by various charities, such as Oxfam, UNHCR and the Red Cross, is in terrible condition. The registration lines are so long that most people end up soiling themselves. Even the onsite bathrooms here are filthy which has lead to the spread of scabies, a contagious skin disease.
With the donation money that we had brought along we bought some heaters, generators and battery-operated lights for the refugees at the camp. We even distributed food among single men who are required to set up tents in the forested area outside the camp. “I have not eaten in days,” is the common complaint among people. In order to feed as many people as we could, we bought sandwiches from vendors at the camp along with boxes of juice and lollipops for children. For those preparing for the onwards journey, we handed out bus tickets, hats and gloves.“It has taken us a long time to come here. You don’t know what we have been through. We are Ahmadi and we cannot go back,” says a Pakistani man waiting in line. Many arrive in Lesbos for a better life but do not realise that what awaits them here is hunger, cold and even more hardship. “We started on our journey as a group of four, but now we are three,” he laments.
At other smaller camps, such as Camp Skala run by a Christian priest, volunteers distribute food throughout the night. A small play area is also set for children. At the Village of All Together, set up for people with special needs, volunteers directly hand out money.
Our next stop was the cemetery in Mytilene, where refugees have been allotted a small section for their dead. Upon arrival we saw a woman laying her husband and one-year-old child to rest. For most, it is hard to get authorities to release a body from the overflowing morgues in Greece. And those that are released usually haven’t been identified.
Trying times
After a hiatus of three days, the island is once again flooded with incoming refugees; this time, around 600 of them. Within 24 hours, all the empty beds at Camp Moria are occupied and the road outside the camp is teeming with people preparing to spend the night on cold concrete.
On the other hand, refugees from various camps are making their way to the Port of Mytilene to leave Lesbos and make inroads to central Europe. Some buy a ticket for a boat ride to Athens or take a bus to Macedonia. They are warned by Maria, a Greek woman at the ticket booth, not to go. “You will really get stuck,” she says. “The long route involves travelling from Greece to Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary, Czech Republic and then into Germany. Each country requires separate paperwork, and a lot of them are not too welcoming,” she warns. Yet, most of them pay no heed and carry on. “Where do you expect me to go,” an Iranian man says. “I certainly cannot go back.”
Aid at the port is sparse and many sleep out in the freezing cold. When offered a warm beverage or a blanket, they thank you profusely. Despite having spent an entire day shopping for groceries, including nuts, granola bars, fruits and water, carts are emptied out in less than an hour. Many want more jackets and caps to brave the cold in the open. A man desperately seeking help says, “I need formula for my two-month-old baby.”
Although our journey has come to an end, returning home is not easy after all the suffering we have witnessed. Flying over the Aegean Sea we reflect on the number of lives it has claimed. And as soon as we arrive at our destination we receive another heart-wrenching message about more bodies washing up on shore. With a vast human tragedy unfolding along the shores of Greece, we cannot stop our efforts just yet and another trip is already being planned at the beginning of the New Year.
Faiza Taqi Hassan has graduated from the University of Toronto and was a former senior editor at FYI Magazine.
Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, December 13th, 2015.
Although help is aplenty in Lesbos, it is not enough to cater to the hoards of refugees who arrive on the island every day. A day after our arrival we learnt that a boat carrying refugees had just reached shore. What we saw there was overwhelming: People were scrambling out of boats, some without shoes, and throwing themselves on the sand. Most had sold all their belongings to smuggle themselves across borders and into Turkey. From there, those who can pay EUR1,500 (half price if the weather is unfavourable) book themselves a seat on a rubber dinghy or a small rowing boat to transport them to the island.As part of a group of 22 volunteers from the UK, US, Canada, Dubai, Africa and Pakistan, we were sent to Lesbos by a UK-based NGO, Zahra Trust, to help out with the escalating refugee crisis. Equipped with shrouds, warm clothes and food we arrived at Mytilene International Airport on Lesbos Island which was crowded with people from Switzerland, Germany, UK and Norway who had all come on a similar humanitarian mission.
Trying to make a differenceThose who arrive safely at the island consider themselves fortunate. “The first day I came to help, I saw a boat sink before my very eyes,” says Salim, a volunteer from the UK. “But there is nothing you can do. They are too far out in the ocean.”
When refugees first arrive in Lesbos they are registered at a camp. Once the necessary paperwork is completed, many prefer to continue their journey further into Europe while others remain in Greece.
One of the largest camps in Lesbos is Camp Moria, home to nearly 8,000 to 9,000 refugees from Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan and Bangladesh, out of which nearly 2,000 to 3,000 are orphaned children. The government-run site, assisted by various charities, such as Oxfam, UNHCR and the Red Cross, is in terrible condition. The registration lines are so long that most people end up soiling themselves. Even the onsite bathrooms here are filthy which has lead to the spread of scabies, a contagious skin disease.
With the donation money that we had brought along we bought some heaters, generators and battery-operated lights for the refugees at the camp. We even distributed food among single men who are required to set up tents in the forested area outside the camp. “I have not eaten in days,” is the common complaint among people. In order to feed as many people as we could, we bought sandwiches from vendors at the camp along with boxes of juice and lollipops for children. For those preparing for the onwards journey, we handed out bus tickets, hats and gloves.“It has taken us a long time to come here. You don’t know what we have been through. We are Ahmadi and we cannot go back,” says a Pakistani man waiting in line. Many arrive in Lesbos for a better life but do not realise that what awaits them here is hunger, cold and even more hardship. “We started on our journey as a group of four, but now we are three,” he laments.
At other smaller camps, such as Camp Skala run by a Christian priest, volunteers distribute food throughout the night. A small play area is also set for children. At the Village of All Together, set up for people with special needs, volunteers directly hand out money.
Our next stop was the cemetery in Mytilene, where refugees have been allotted a small section for their dead. Upon arrival we saw a woman laying her husband and one-year-old child to rest. For most, it is hard to get authorities to release a body from the overflowing morgues in Greece. And those that are released usually haven’t been identified.
Trying times
After a hiatus of three days, the island is once again flooded with incoming refugees; this time, around 600 of them. Within 24 hours, all the empty beds at Camp Moria are occupied and the road outside the camp is teeming with people preparing to spend the night on cold concrete.
On the other hand, refugees from various camps are making their way to the Port of Mytilene to leave Lesbos and make inroads to central Europe. Some buy a ticket for a boat ride to Athens or take a bus to Macedonia. They are warned by Maria, a Greek woman at the ticket booth, not to go. “You will really get stuck,” she says. “The long route involves travelling from Greece to Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary, Czech Republic and then into Germany. Each country requires separate paperwork, and a lot of them are not too welcoming,” she warns. Yet, most of them pay no heed and carry on. “Where do you expect me to go,” an Iranian man says. “I certainly cannot go back.”
Aid at the port is sparse and many sleep out in the freezing cold. When offered a warm beverage or a blanket, they thank you profusely. Despite having spent an entire day shopping for groceries, including nuts, granola bars, fruits and water, carts are emptied out in less than an hour. Many want more jackets and caps to brave the cold in the open. A man desperately seeking help says, “I need formula for my two-month-old baby.”
Although our journey has come to an end, returning home is not easy after all the suffering we have witnessed. Flying over the Aegean Sea we reflect on the number of lives it has claimed. And as soon as we arrive at our destination we receive another heart-wrenching message about more bodies washing up on shore. With a vast human tragedy unfolding along the shores of Greece, we cannot stop our efforts just yet and another trip is already being planned at the beginning of the New Year.
Faiza Taqi Hassan has graduated from the University of Toronto and was a former senior editor at FYI Magazine.
Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, December 13th, 2015.