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The war has been escalating since Maybe, one day I will meet them again. They inflated the dinghy in front of us. Il finira sa vie reclus dans une chambre d'hôtel de Las Vegas, entièrement nu et dans l'obscurité. L: In Morocco it is not easy for migrants. I myself have suffered the consequences. She also crossed the ditch; it is about three metres deep. Of course, we often know what is beneath those numbers, and here we could write stories of violence, slavery and torture in Libya.

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She intends to attempt the crossing. Their group of 14 people is ready. A month ago, migrants have been intercepted.


They are not imprisoned unless they are found to be smugglers. She also crossed the ditch; it is about three metres deep.

There was no water at the bottom, but there was mud. To climb, some men helped her, braiding clothes to hoist her up. The desert is full of aggressive dogs. She had to walk for a long time with her baby and a friend from the Ivory Coast before she came across the military.

The military knew their number, they had to identify their group well in advance they asked where the men were, looking for a group of 18 people. The soldiers were equipped with huge searchlights sweeping across the desert. Crossing this border costs about Euros. She lived in a southern province.

She arrived in Tunisia in May while she was 6 months pregnant with her first child. Her boat ran out of petrol and was rescued by the Tunisian authorities and handed over to IOM. She remained in this centre for one year and asked to see UNHCR, but for one year she was only offered the voluntary return.

Her husband, who only speaks Ikâ, was given a translation by phone. A few months later they received a negative response from UNHCR, telling them that the events that they had raised could not be verified on the net, and that it was a family problem. She says that few Nigeriens are accepted, with the exception of single women with children one of whom has been relocated. They appealed against this decision by filling out a form, without an interview, but were again given a rejection. The UNHCR gave them three days to leave the centre, along with her two daughters, aged two years and six months.

This happened one year ago. They refused, were able to stay but they no longer have food coupons and no more help from the UNHCR. When she talks to the staff, they pretend to ignore her. UNHCR has not renewed their cards. They have stopped paying for medical expenses, while the baby has to go to hospital regularly. The Doctor said it was because he was suffering from the cold. Her husband tries to work but there are no opportunities in Medenine. He went to Sfax but he got himself arrested and imprisoned for two days for not having papers.

Without documents, they have no freedom of movement. UNHCR refused to accompany them. I am 18 years old and I come from Somalia. I want to tell you the story of my rescue in the Mediterranean Sea on September I also never want to forget the moment, after nearly two days at sea, when we finally saw a small sailing-boat on the horizon that ended our suffering.

We were full of fear, because finally our phone, our only connection to the world, had stopped functioning and water was rapidly entering the boat.

It was a miracle when we finally found this sail-boat. We were about people in a blue rubber boat, and seven of us onboard were coming from Somalia. One pregnant woman was traveling with her 1-year-old child and her husband.

She is now doing well because she was transferred to Germany after the rescue. I never learned how to swim, so the idea of the boat flooding was a possible death sentence to me. There are no words to describe how you feel when you realize that your journey across the sea is over.

It was a German sailboat, which was too small to take us on board.


They came to us and asked us, if we could speak English. They gave us jackets and life-vests, because the weather was getting rougher and colder. Later, when it was dark, it started raining and the waves got bigger. There were already other people with them who had been rescued earlier that day.

Even the rescuers seemed so happy that we were all safe. They had doctors on board and they gave us medical treatment, since my pregnant friend and I had had vomited a lot.

I had a heavy allergic reaction on my skin as well because the sea irritated my skin condition after being exposed to the salt for so long. She was brought by a helicopter to Malta because she was very close to delivering her baby. The crew later made an announcement to tell us when the baby was born in Malta.

This time was difficult, but it was much better than what we experienced before. The crew was always with us and they tried to support us however they could. We had enough food.

We had a doctor whenever we felt sick. They even gave us clothing. We felt welcome. Finally, Lampedusa decided to take us in. When we finally left the boat after such a long time at sea it was not as warm of a welcome.

We received food only after being forced to give our fingerprints and we were brought to a dirty place with barbed wire. I could not stay in Italy; the conditions were so poor. Today I struggle to live in Germany with the fear of my fingerprints on record and that I will be deported back to Italy.

I will never forget the good people on these ships, who welcomed me before I arrived in Europe. They will stay in my memory. Maybe, one day I will meet them again. Until then I want to encourage them to continue what they are doing and I send them all my greetings. We never met, but I have read the stories that you wrote on board of the rescue ship. Nine boats in distress fleeing from Libya called the Alarm Phone, and for the first time in a long time, all the boats that called Alarm Phone from the Central Mediterranean where rescued to Europe, more than people in 5 days.

This was not just about luck. These were efforts mostly by women. Wonderful, fierce, kind, fearless women like you. In the past, I have mostly have dealt with men at sea and it was difficult. These 5 days were joyful instead. After sending an email, I would call the bridge. Again and again, for 72 hours.

I never heard moment of discomfort in her voice. Even under that pressure, she was trying to create little cracks of softness, of love, of solidarity, of laughter. I think there are no words in this world to express the magnitude of certain actions. On the phone, we tell the people in distress that they have to stay strong and keep calm, that they have to trust us, that they cannot give up.

After hours when they thought they had been abandoned by everyone, and that they had been forgotten in a sea that is too big, on a boat that is too small. I imagine this little light shining above a sea that is a cold, dark, liquid cemetery. A sign of life, of resistance, of struggle. Not just of despair. Then silence. One second you are head and body in the Mediterranean, the next you are in silence and you realise that hours have passed.

From this side of the phone we do not know what happens in this silence. Waking up reading the stories you write about these rescues, my dear friend, I always cry. Reading your descriptions of the rescue, reading the stories of the people who were on board, it makes it all real, it fills the void of these silences. Reading your stories makes me think of all the witches of the sea like you, like L.

The Morganas of the sea, the few little lights in this darkness, sparks that are reflected by the waves, as magic as fairies and as fierce as witches. I cannot stop being inspired by all these women, who cannot be stopped, contained, tamed. So yes, it is hard work also for all of us, and many people think we are crazy for doing this work, but we know that we are not the crazy ones, and that we are part of a brigade of amazing witches who believe that the real craziness is looking away.

Thank you. From the crossing of the Aegean Sea to the struggle for women rights.


Women on Lesvos All women against Moria Most women have already endured hardship even before they get into a boat to cross the Mediterranean Sea. But the journey is far from being over once they reach the shore. Many of them find themselves in overcrowded refugee camps, such as Moria on the Greek island of Lesvos, where the authorities are overwhelmed with numbers and unable or unwilling to provide the most basic needs such as clean water, electricity, shelter, medical care and security.

It is a harsh environment where the strongest rules and violence is part of everyday life which leads to an existence dictated by constant fear. In this rough environment, solidarity is a vital tool for survival, especially among women.

On January 30th , approximately women and children gathered in Mytilene, the capital of Lesvos, to protest the horrific living conditions in the camp and the dramatic increase of violence— including several fatal stabbings that had taken place within the previous weeks. The protest was organized by a group of about 15 Afghan women, and their goal was to draw attention to the dire situation.

It was both a cry of despair as well as a powerful and loud manifestation of female solidarity when women of all ages and different nationalities took to the streets and blocked the traffic for several hours. Several women said that it was the first time they had participated in a demonstration, but they showed great confidence during negotiations with the police or when giving media interviews. An elderly Afghan woman explained that she had focussed on caring for her family all her life but the hellish situation in Moria had given her no choice but to join the demonstration.

Many women kept their faces hidden behind hijabs, voluminous scarves, and surgical face masks to conceal their identity. In the past, well placed rumours had been circulating that political involvement and contact with the press would lead to immediate deportation and repression by the Greek authorities.

Taking this into account, protesters is an astonishing number. Even more so considering the difficulties a trip from Moria to the islands capital, Mytilene, includes. For example, people have to cue for several hours to be able to get into one of the few busses.

It has been reported that bus drivers had to push people away with sticks to be able to close the door. We also heard reports that a larger number of women were prevented from leaving the camp to join the demonstration by the authorities and police forces.

No flyers, no Facebook group, no official announcement. News of the women-only-protest was spread by word of mouth. The success of the demonstration was a surprise to many, especially the police, who initially showed up with only 10 riot-cops. After the protest, 9 female volunteers were taken to the police station, where their identity cards were checked. The officials seemed to be unable to grasp the idea that women from Moria could organise efficiently.

But times are desperate and increasingly women are discovering their political voice. They are finding strength in female cooperation. There had been an all-women sit-in last October after the tragic death of a woman in a gas explosion in the camp.

Assemblies, empowerment workshops, networking and practical support are less visible and yet essential aspects of the politicisation of women. When you talk with the women living there, their daily life comprises of fear, no rest, long lines, attacks, power cuts… but also solidarity amongst each other, survival strategies and the struggle to be able to decide about their own lives.

There are the stories of three women, F, N, and J. We just had to work. My older sister and I worked as tailors in a basement. I started working when I was 12 years old.

I have a passion for education. Finally, this year my sister and I decided on leaving in search of something better. Finally, my parents accepted.

So, we started our travels. During our journey we tolerated several difficulties. Upon arrival to Lesvos, we slept two nights on the streets because we had to wait until Monday for when the offices of Moria opened. Finally, we could get a tent. Both are living in Moria today.

Four hours later we arrived in a very dark place. They put us in an abandoned house without any water or food all day long until 7 pm. Then we walked 5 hours up and down in the Turkish hills.

Finally, we arrived on the shoreline.


They inflated the dinghy in front of us. We left close to midnight. We were 29 people on board. When they released us we went back to Izmir. Same group, same way. Five hours of walking again. The big boats came close to our rubber boat to make big waves and they were yelling at us to leave and go back to Turkey.

This time we spent one week in the police station. The third time, we arrived in Greek waters and called the Greek Coastguard, that came to pick us up. But we had to throw away our personal belongings because the boat was filling up with water.


There was complete disorder on board, no organisation. After we had called them for the first time, we still waited three hours until they came to pick us up. We started to pray. On the open sea the water was coming inside the boat. Each one was calling for God in his own way.

The kids were in the middle. Me as well. I closed my eyes. We landed without any police, only fishermen. It was raining. I was wet and we had to wait 15 minutes more for the bus. What gave us our hope back, was this woman, who gave us chips and sent her kids to say hello to us. I slept from tent to tent. They kick you out of the tent when you cough too much.

The few that we had, they would steal it. I was scared to be stabbed, mainly during the night and someone would do it just to take your phone. As N and I were talking over some tea, N had to leave us to go stand in line for food. Very often they have to miss a workshop, a class, a commitment, or a friends-gathering to go stand in line for a basic necessity. Sometimes it gets so late that people have to return to their tents in Moria, even if they did not receive what they had been standing in line for all day.

And the day is done. We line-up for every basic need. We pee in buckets since the toilets are too far away and we have to wait in line to use them. During the night especially, the toilets are too far to reach. And the toilets are dirty, so you easily get itchy. The Moria medical tent usually gives paracetamol to calm the itchiness down… To take a shower is the same.

It has happened a few times since I have been here, and people have died just waiting. I am scared when I have to go stand in line. I was so scared, it was horrible.

You wait about 2. Your whole life is waiting in a line. Again, you have to wait in a line. If you have a cold, standing in a line outside is bad for your health. You will get worse.

Doctors just give you painkillers and tell you to drink water. Life here is so hard: washing clothes, caring for my little sister, my brother and father. I miss my mum. You are constantly living in fear. You have nothing to do, nothing that you can do to be a part of civil society. The lines are dehumanising. I cannot eat too late, but when the electricity comes back at 2 am, I cannot prevent the others to talk, to eat and to cook.

So, I put my earphones on and cover my eyes.

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I refuse to take the medication that they give me to sleep, because we know that boys spend the nights in the alleys. With the canvas walls of the tents, you can feel the people passing by close to you and your head, and I want to be awake in case something happens.

To eat warm and cooked food, we have to prepare the food before the electricity comes on. So they had to wait, but when the power came back the food was not good anymore. As they were hungry, they added some milk. We sleep on the floor and each one puts their stuff around their sleeping place. We keep the middle of the tent open to cook and sit, and eat together. It is important to show solidarity, so I said to the women that we have to protect each other and when one of us has to go stand in line early in the morning, some of us go with her until daylight comes.

Can you imagine! Merchi Dany Confiné à la maison, comme tout le monde, Dany Boon avait déjà partagé sur Instagram un instant de vie plutôt amusant avec sa fille Sarah , fruit de son union avec la mannequin et scénariste Yaël Harris dont il est aujourd'hui divorcé. Le cliché nous montrait une porte, sur laquelle était collé un post-it, où sa fille avait pris soin d'écrire : "Ne pas entré isi". En légende, Dany Boon saluait la prudence de sa progéniture en cette période particulière, précisant, non sans humour, qu'elle se protégeait du monde extérieur Cette fois, c'est sur le registre de l'émotion que le réalisateur de Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis a décidé de jouer pour rendre hommage aux soignants, bien sûr, mais pas seulement.

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Sur la vidéo publiée hier sur son compte, on voit l'acteur se cacher le visage avec les mains, sur lesquels il a dessiné un visage souriant. Puis il dévoile la paume de ses mains, où est écrit tout simplement Merchi, un clin d'oeil à l'un de ses gimmicks favoris et son attachement au parler ch'ti.

En légende de la vidéo, le comédien a fait part de sa gratitude : "MERCHI aux soignants, aidants, commerçants, caissières, livreurs