The migrant route in the central Mediterranean is the deadliest in the world – but a goldmine for the purest evil that preys on the most human thing there is: the will to live.
I’ve always had a bit of a hard time believing that, despite repeated reports and testimonies. But some things you have to see and hear for yourself in order to believe them.
– It was as if they knew we were coming, Syrian Jabel tells me at the private rescue boat’s makeshift refugee camp.
He is referring to the Libyan coast guard, the EU-funded Libyan coast guard – which, according to a new report by the UN Human Rights Council, is cooperating with people smugglers.
Made contact with smugglers
The first time Jabel tried to take a boat from Libya, with the help of the smugglers he got in touch with on Facebook, they were stopped, after only a few kilometers.
– I can only say what I experienced, but I had the feeling that someone informed them that we were going, he continues.
They were taken back to Libya. The roughly one thousand dollars they paid to get on board they never got to see again. Some of them ended up in the notorious migrant camps where scabies, beatings, rape and torture are commonplace.
Everyone I talk to on board here; Bengalis, Syrians, Pakistanis, Eritreans – they all testify to the same thing. A never-ending cycle of violence in Libya. Where they went to escape persecution, climate change and war.
– I couldn’t see any difference between the Libyan coast guard and the human smugglers, says Jabel.
Sent money home
Libya used to be a destination country for African migrants. They went there to work, to send money to them back home. That is no longer the case. So then you end up sooner or later in the hands of people smugglers.
Jabel then left regime-controlled Tripoli for Benghazi – controlled by warlord Haftar. He had heard that it was easier to get to Italy from there. And it’s true, most of the boats that made it to Italy from Libya this year have departed from there. Just like the fishing boat Doctors Without Borders rescued on Monday evening, when I was there. A seat on it cost between four and six thousand dollars.
As I write this, I can see from my cabin window how the Mediterranean Sea is slowly swallowing the zingo colored Mediterranean sun. Tomorrow night I will fall asleep in my bed in Rome. Maybe I’ll have a glass of wine with some friends, maybe we’ll make plans together for the summer: A week in the country, maybe a weekend in a big city to the south.
I think of Jabel, sleeping on a thin rubber mat down on the cargo deck – a few meters below me – in a donated tracksuit with 169 other men. Upstairs, almost as many women and children.
And I think of Karam, from Pakistan. I think of the relief in his eyes just after Pablo and Samuel from MSF pulled him down on the floor of the rib boat on Monday.
– I was sure we would die out there at sea, he says.
Who was driving the boat, who were the people smugglers, I ask.
– I can’t say that, Filip. They will seek out our families, abuse them, torture them. Just like they did to us, he replies.
– They play with people’s lives.
Karam and I are the same age.
New wrestling match
In Italy, a new wrestling match awaits, the one with authorities and regulations. It is hardly a dream world – recently the Dutch Supreme Court banned the authorities from sending back two Nigerian asylum seekers to Italy, due to the conditions in the Italian migrant camps.
But at least it’s not Libya – and most people here have no intention of staying in Italy anyway.
And right now, Karam just wants some kind of connection so he can call his family and tell them he’s safe. That he is one of the lucky ones.