Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/506094
maltatoday, SUNDAY, 3 MAY 2015 15 the same way, he managed to reach Tripoli… where he was promptly ar- rested by the police. "I had no documents. They told me I was 'illegal'. But I was not illegal. I was an asylum-seeker. I have a right to seek asylum. But they arrested me and put me in prison." Prison conditions were harsh. Ahmed recalls how bread would be thrown into an overcrowded cell, and inmates left to struggle among themselves to get a piece. But security levels were equally primitive, and just over two weeks later Ahmed managed to escape again… this time, a mass break-out with another 15 people. Now nearing the final stage of the journey (or so he thought), he found himself one of a large number of people from vari- ous parts of Africa, all with similar tales to tell. "Everyone was calling their fam- ily asking for money to pay for the boat. You can't stay in Tripoli: there are only two choices, prison, or the boats. You can't go back across the desert. You are trapped." Getting on board a boat also means coughing up an additional $1,000, which Ahmed didn't have. Once again he contacted his mother for help. This time she could only pro- vide $800, but it was enough to se- cure a place on board. Ahmed and the other paid-up pas- sengers – over 200 of them – were smuggled out of Tripoli to the beach packed up in cardboard boxes in the back of a truck. Once on the beach, he witnessed further violence. "I saw a woman being raped. You can't do anything, or try to tell them to stop. They will kill you…" As for the boat, this turned out to be a small, unseaworthy dinghy packed with 142 people. "It was very overcrowded. We had no compass for direction. We had no food or wa- ter. And the sea was rough…" Some 25 miles off the Libyan coast the engine shuddered to a halt, leav- ing the passengers helplessly adrift in a boat that was now taking in water. Rough weather soon buffeted them towards Tunisia, where they were apprehended by the Tunisian coast guard. "We all agreed to say that our aim was all along to reach Tunisia. If we said we were trying to reach Europe, they would punish us. [The Tuni- sians] don't want the people going to Europe to come into that area. So we told them we were looking for safety and security in Tunis…" The Tunisian coast guard however thought otherwise, and all passen- gers were placed under arrest and imprisoned. Two days later, they were loaded onto a bus and driven to the Libyan border. "One of the guards told us: 'Do you see that tree? Behind that tree is the Libyan border. Now start running and get back to Libya where you be- long.' Then they started to beat us, and we all started running…" Immediately beyond the tree on the Libyan side of the border was a military compound. There they were greeted by armed Libyan soldiers, who pushed them back towards Tu- nisia at gunpoint. What followed was an almost sur- real standoff in a narrow strip of no man's land between the two frontiers. On the Tunisian side the migrants were beaten back with truncheons each time they passed the tree. On the Libyan side, they were held at bay by a line of men with guns. "In the end we sat outside the com- pound and begged the Libyans to take us in. We showed them injuries from the beatings. Then one of the guards contacted his boss, and they sent a military truck and took us to prison in Sabratha." Yet again, Ahmed managed to es- cape: this time under circumstances that would almost be comical, if the bigger picture were not so grim. "One day a guard came in and asked if any of us had any experience working on a farm. We all put up our hands. 'Yes, I know about farming', I said. And all the others said the same." A large group of inmates was promptly driven to the guard's pri- vate farm, and some made a dash for it as soon as they stepped out of the truck. "When I saw them running, I started running too… then everyone started running together…" In the ensuing mayhem Ahmed managed to reach the highway and hitch a ride to Tripoli, where once again he had to go through the same process to board a boat for another $800. By this time the family had no more land to sell, and his mother was forced to borrow the money. The second trip also involved an overcrowded boat, but this time they were provided with a satellite phone, a compass, and food and water. To- gether with another 124 asylum- seekers, Ahmed was rescued by the Armed Forces of Malta two days lat- er. Once on land, he was handcuffed and transferred to the Hal Far deten- tion camp, where he would spend the next five months unable to make a phone call to his mother to let her know he was still alive. But he has since been able to fulfil at least one half of his lifelong am- bition. He now works as a journal- ist, even if in another country. The African Media Association he set up in Malta aims to broadcast in- formation about all aspects of the migration phenomenon to where it is needed most: Somalia, and other sub-Saharan countries where people are routinely conned, abducted and often killed by the seductive allure of Europe. Interview For most migrants, the boat trip from Libya is only the last hurdle of a harrowing and often fatal ordeal. AHMED NUUR IBRAHIM, a journalist from Somalia, retraces the steps of his own nightmarish odyssey with fear PHOTOGRAPHY BY RAY ATTARD