Refugee Camps on the Edge of Athens
Words by Mira Mookerjee , Edited by Evar Hussayni
(All names have been changed).
I’m sitting on a patch of AstroTurf beside Zahab. She cannot be more than 7. We are reading a book called Imagine together.
I point at the words that are written on the first page.
“What does this say?” I ask her,
“Just before you fall asleep, imagine the clouds look just like sheep,” she reads,
“Very good,” I congratulate her, “And who is this?” I say, pointing at a rosy-cheeked blonde boy propped up in bed looking out of his window,
“Baby!” She says looking up at me,
“Excellent!”
We turn the page, “And what does this say?” I ask,
“Imagine thin, imagine fat”
“Great!” I say. “Do you know what this is?” I ask, pointing to a picture. She looks up at me confused.
“Worm” I say,
She watches the shapes my lips make, “Worm” she repeats, before turning the page. I follow the text with my finger as she reads,
“Imagine old, imagine new,” she says,
“Very good! And what is this?” I say, pointing at an old thatched building.
“House!” She answers, grinning and pointing to the group of tents that are sat to our right, “like this!”
English is not Zahab’s first language. Nor is it her second or third. At the age of seven she can recognise three different alphabets, her native Persian, the Greek script and the Latin alphabet. She is one individual in a generation of children who have escaped war-torn countries and places where their lives were at risk; who have travelled by boat and vehicle, been smuggled across borders and travelled across continents in search of safety…only to be raised in tents. I ask Zahab if she wants to take a break from reading, she shakes her head and turns the page.
We are in Oinofyta camp. Oinofyta is an hour and a half drive from Athens. It’s one of many camps that are sat on the outskirts of Greece’s capital. The majority of Oinofyta’s residents live in the camp’s main building. These people are predominantly Kurdish, escaping from Turkey, Iraq and Iran. Some of these people have lived in Oinofyta for over ten months and it’s unlikely that this is the first or only camp they have lived in.
A new group of refugees, originally from Afghanistan, have recently arrived to mainland Greece. Three lines of white tents belonging to International Organisation for Migration (IOM) now sit outside Oinofyta’s main building to house the new arrivals. It’s June and the weather has already reached 35 degrees. A thin layer of fabric hangs above the tents to try and hide them from the Greek summer sun. Many new mothers and young children are living inside these boiling tents; the main building does not have the space or the facilities to support the new arrivals. According to a 2018 Are you Syrious article, in November 2017 Oinofyta was closed “because it didn’t meet the standards of the European Commission department in charge of humanitarian aid”. It has now reopened, but barely any changes have been made to improve the camp’s conditions.
Prior to Europe closing its borders, approved asylum seekers would stay in Greece for a short time before being relocated to a more stable European country. However, since the closure of EU borders this is no longer the case. Refugees are now forced to remain in the country in which they were registered. In Greece, even under refugee status, individuals are now stripped of housing support and cash cards, meaning they become reliant on Greece’s heavily depleted public services. Consequently, registered refugees are facing homelessness.
Due to Greece’s economy crash in 2008, the country has very few jobs. Athens’ native population is decreasing as a result of this. As mentioned on World Population Review this year, many Greek people are either moving back to family homes outside the capital, or moving abroad. Walking through Athens the effect of this is obvious. The capital is littered with empty buildings, shops and flats. These empty buildings create a stark contrast with Athens’ growing homeless population. The immigrant homeless population are the worse affected. To gain any financial support from the government, a record of paid taxes must be shown, yet those who have recently arrived in Greece have no such record. Young men make up the majority of Athens’ homeless population, but there are also women and children living on the city’s streets.
We leave Oinofyta and drive for thirty-minutes to another IOM run refugee camp, Malakassa. The sun is beginning to set when we reach the camp. Children run up excitedly to welcome us and residents greet us with smiles. A child covered in chocolate thrusts a toy cat into my hands. Soft Arabic music floats out of a speaker in the camp’s supply shop. Malakassa camp overflows with tents; people are living in thin, one-off camping tents inside large shipping containers. However, space inside the shipping containers has recently run out, forcing people to set up outside. Samira is a new arrival to Malakassa camp. She expresses to me that she would like to learn English. I go through the alphabet with her and help her memorise the script. She is a fast learner and is soon able to match the sounds with the letters that I point to at random. The sounds she struggles with, such as ‘W’, she translates into Farsi and writes beside the letter.
There’s very little language learning support offered to adult refugees, and getting a job in Greece without knowledge of the language is incredibly difficult. A Public Radio International (PRI) article, written by Deepa Fernandes tells the story of Khatereh Mohamadian, who lives in Greece as a legal refugee. According to Deepa, she “Spent countless days looking for her own apartment, and for a stable, decent paying job. But not speaking Greek, it’s been almost impossible.She eventually found a job at an Iranian restaurant because she could do it without the [Greek] language”. But the owner was only paying her 1 Euro per hour. “She was working 12-hour shifts, seven days a week”. At 3.94 Euros per hour, Greek minimum wage is one of the lowest in Europe, but this is almost quadruple what Mohamadian was earning. The lack of governmental support means even legal refugees in Greece are forced into exploitative employment.
Greek natives are divided on how the government should be dealing with the refugee crisis. Back in Exarcheia, an anarchist region in Athens, large protests in solidarity with refugees are a common occurrence. Protesters walk with gas masks in their hands or worn around their necks, as the police often set off tear gas to stop these marches. Other locals treat refugees with disdain and do not see their wellbeing a problem that Greece should be burdened with. Arguably, there is no direct reason why Greece should solely bear the full responsibility for the refugee crisis. However, these vulnerable individuals deserve support, yet nothing is being done to improve their current situation. In fact, things are getting worse. Greece has recently announced plans to close three of the largest island refugee camps and to relocate the camp’s 20,000 inhabitants to mainland facilities. Campaigners have likened these facilities to detention centres.
During my last week in Greece I travel back to Oinofyta camp. The air is so hot and humid it weighs down on your limbs. The sun bounces off the white pages of the books, causing us to squint as we read. A smiling cheeky eyed boy calls ‘teacher, teacher’ and beckons me to where the new kitchen has been built. A few students stand sniggering with plastic bottles of water, they spray me and erupt into laughter. The boy laughs and offers me a bottle full of water from their kitchen hose, I spray water back at them and they giggle and run away. We give up on the day’s lesson as the rest of the session turns into a water fight. There are many familiar faces racing around and hiding behind the few trees left on the camp’s site, but there is no sign of Zahab. Whether she simply missed that session, had been moved on to another camp, or had miraculously made it out of Greece and into another European country, I can’t be sure.
There are systemic problems that need addressing in order to provide refugees with the support they deserve, but if you aren’t in the position to create large-scale change, you can still get active. If you’re able to travel to Greece, there are many charity organisations you can get involved with. Many of these charities are in desperate need of Farsi, Arabic, Kurmanji, Sorani, Turkish, Urdu, French and Bengali speakers. Most of these charities rely on independent funding. If you have the means, you can donate financially, or by giving necessary materials that keep these charities running. You can also help in your home country by employing refugees, volunteering with local organisations, offering to host refugees and asylum seekers, protesting, lobbying your government, or (if you’re a student) lobbying your university to provide grants for refugees.
It’s due to a political, historical and frankly fascist context that these vulnerable people continue to be neglected. In Greece, I’ve seen people try to build homes and communities within the harsh environments of refugee camps, only to have them destroyed by the structures that are in place to ‘handle’ the refugee crisis. For a generation of children to grow up in tents in a country that has the means to support them is a disgrace. We live in a system that permits people to continue living in these inhumane environments without the necessary aid or support. Challenging and changing this system is therefore crucial in order to give refugees the safety, shelter and stability that all humans deserve.
Mira Mookerjee with massive thanks to Jahid.
Many of the charities mentioned can be found via this Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/236125173408995/.
You can read more about how to help refugees here: https://theculturetrip.com/europe/greece/articles/these-are-the-charities-helping-refugees-in-greece/