'Moria is a hell': new arrivals describe life in a Greek refugee camp
Above a hill on the north shore of Lesbos, volunteers watch the sea and the twinkling lights of Turkey day and night with binoculars. The coastguard hurry to respond when they see a boat approaching, trying to arrive in time to stop children falling in the icy cold water as they clamber onto rocks and beaches.
On the morning of 11 January, a group of migrants from Afghanistan make it ashore without being spotted and walk to an olive grove where they light a fire and call for help.
While they wait for the bus that will take them to the Moria refugee camp, the families hold the young children near the fire to warm them. The toddlers are tearful and sleep deprived, rubbing their tired eyes.
After arriving on a dinghy in the early hours of the morning, migrants from Afghanistan warm themselves by a fire
There are several unaccompanied minors in the group, including Jalila, who is laughing as she talks, despite the cold and her hunger.
“We haven’t eaten for two days, we hope there will be food at the camp.”
She feels lucky to be here, to have left behind the Taliban and the violence in her country. “The Taliban tell me to stop going to school: they say I can read and I know the Koran, that is enough. That is why I left my province to go to Kabul.”
But in Kabul she found only violence.
“Have you seen the news about Afghanistan? About three times a bomb blasted in front of me. I was in class one time, the school shook. The next time, it was a truck bomb that shook the whole area. My father is an open-minded person, he wants me to leave. He stops the men who want me to be married at a young age. He says, ‘Inshallah, you will have a bright future.’ The main thing is that he knows Europe is a safe place for girls.”
Soon, a bus arrives to take them to Moria camp. Jalila asks: “Will I be able to start school there immediately?”
Sadly, there is no school for her in the camp. In fact, as she will discover, there is not even basic shelter from the cold winter nights.
While the numbers of migrants on the island are nowhere near those of the height of the crisis in 2015, the closing of European borders since 2016 means that there is no way for people to move off the island – which is causing a growing humanitarian catastrophe here.
The Moria refugee camp was originally intended to hold 3,000 people. As recently as last June there were 5,000 people there, according to Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF), the only major international NGO that has a presence there.
In the last six months it has grown to be a shanty town of 19,000, 40% of whom are under 18. Around 13,000 of those are living in a filthy unofficial camp of tarpaulin tents and makeshift huts made of pallets, in an olive grove surrounding the main site. There is no electricity, not enough water and rivers of mud and rubbish run through the tents.
Jalila, 18, from Kabul
Jalila is shocked by the conditions she finds on her arrival. The charity who greeted her gave her a coat because there were no tents.
“Yesterday we arrived here and they gave me a coat and a blanket. They didn’t give me any shelter and all night I slept on the ground. I tell them I don’t have anybody to support me, I’m on my own. The charity who [met] me say there is no solution.”
She is irrepressibly optimistic. “I slept under the beautiful stars, so it is OK. I feel safer here than on the journey in Turkey; I could relax a little because I have met many nice people here. I am happy to be here, but I need somewhere warm to sleep.”
While nearly half of the migrants here are under 18, a large proportion are under 12. Conditions are disastrously unhygienic. Children play in rivers of mud and piles of rubbish. MSF runs a field clinic just outside the camp, but there is no large scale medical help and they have to prioritise emergencies. The charity is struggling to support thousands of children, some with chronic medical conditions.
Children, particularly those under 12, make up nearly half the population of the camp
MSF say there is an urgent need for thousands of children to be transferred to the mainland or to other European countries immediately.
Even the most vulnerable, including pregnant women and those with newborn babies, have no specialist help. Before Christmas a nine-month old baby died of dehydration, despite the parents seeking help.
Saber, 39
Saber is eight months pregnant and has travelled to escape severe fighting in Kunduz province, northern Afghanistan, with her husband and six children. She was feeling pains in her stomach when she arrived on Lesbos after travelling for two days but hasn’t been seen by a doctor.
The family were given a tiny two-man tent to take into the slum-like conditions of the olive grove. With her bump and pains in her back, Saber couldn’t even bend down far enough to get in. They borrowed €150 from friends in the camp, bought pallets and nails and are busily building themselves a shack.
Only those with money can do this.
Feruze, 34, with husband Jarwad and family
Feruze is very worried about where her children will sleep tonight. The family had to ask to take shelter in a shack belonging to other Afghans, as they were only given a one-man tent when they arrived. Two of the children are ill but there is no doctor for them to see. The nearby MSF clinic will be open on Monday, two days away, but has to prioritise emergencies.
“The children were so cold last night, we had no blankets. My son is sick, he has been shivering and shaking.”
Ahmed, 17
Ahmed has had a horrendous journey to reach Moria camp. “When we were crossing the Turkish border, my friend was shot dead in front of me. His uncle managed to get his body back to the village to his mother. I had no idea I would end up in this camp, I thought that I would keep going through the forests like I did in Turkey, just keep moving until I’m safe.”
There is no space for him and all he has to keep the rain and sun out is a sheet of tarpaulin which he shares with two friends, also teenagers on their own.
“We huddle together, there are three of us; when it rains it washes everything away. We don’t have pallets: they are only for families.”
Migrants build a shelter at the makeshift camp. Only those with money can access building materials
“I worry all the time about my family back in Syria, anything could happen, Isis, Turkey could come and take over the village. Our home has already been bombed. And they worry about me, nobody wants their son in this situation. It took a year to decide to leave, but as the situation got worse I had to go.”
Amed has a case open for family reunion with his brother and cousin in the north of England.
Many of the people living in the camp have fled ongoing bombing, despite the dangers of crossing the Syrian border.
Even though there are thousands of children here there is no formal education provided by the Greek authorities, despite pressure from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. Of approximately 6,300 children of school age in Lesbos, only around 150 are enrolled in formal schools
Inside the official camp there are some informal classes but there is nothing for those in the olive grove.
Ali, 33, from Idlib and his family
Ali is an English teacher from Idlib, Syria. With his home town destroyed by bombing, he and his family fled, first to the Turkish border, then on to Greece.
“We have been here four months; tomorrow we leave for a camp on the mainland. The conditions in Moria are indescribable. Sometimes there is no water, there is no electricity; when it rains we fear for our children’s lives, that they will die of the rain, the cold, the wind. For Syrians, this is a hell. We are homeless, our town, Idlib is being destroyed. However high the risk of dying on the way, we have no choice but to leave, many others are now trying to escape also.
“We are going to Germany – because half of my family are in Germany – we are going to follow them. Most of us, Syrians, are following their parents, brothers, their families - everyone of us has either brother, sister, friend, neighbour in Europe - especially in Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium, Norway.”
Ali’s biggest worry is for his four children, and the months that go by without a normal life for them.
“I can’t send them to school here. Man has priorities in this life: first is the tranquility, a clean safe place. Then we can move to learning. These conditions are not available here in Moria. Sometimes we consider that Moria is just a place for waiting for death.
“Life in Moria is impossible – believe me – most of us here have changed psychologically. Some people have lost their minds.”
