I saw a man so happy he could light up the sun. He was allowed to stay—otherwise, he would have been murdered.
I saw a family in panic. A procedural error, a negative decision. What now? Appeal on Lesbos, risking never leaving the island except by deportation? Or go to Athens, with the high risk of ending up on the streets?
I saw a tiny, precious baby. Parents waiting for a decision. A baby…
I saw so many more people. With stories. Searching for safety. Wanting nothing more than to work and build a life.
And meanwhile, our council of ministers approves the strictest asylum policy ever. They listen to no one, apparently read no reports.
And in doing so, they condemn countless people to pushbacks, violence, torture, and death in a desert. To waiting, being seen as criminals.
I look out over the Mediterranean Sea. The coast guard’s boat departs. And for a moment, I don’t know where to turn.
Thankfully, there are organizations like Fenix – Humanitarian Legal Aid and others, doing what gives hope. Doing good, today and tomorrow. That’s what I hold on to.
But dear council of ministers, is this really how you want to be remembered?