Mohammed’s journey of survival and hope

In the streets of Sfax, a bustling Tunisian city perched by the Mediterranean, Mohammed is one of thousands of foreigners who view this location as a ticket to Europe. Dreaming of a better future in a richer nation, the Sierra Leone national shares his story, which includes a previous failed attempt to cross the Mediterranean and the hurtful experience of racism.

 

By Méline Laffabry (edited by Rogerio Simoes)

“First of all, my name is Mohammed Jawara. I’m from West Africa, Sierra Leone. I’m 36 years old. I left Sierra Leone in 2019  because of the country’s conditions. Things are hard there. That’s why I decided to come back to this. Because I’ve been in this world before.”

This world, as Mohammed calls it, is the world of exile. He recounts his initial attempt to reach Europe via Libya in 2017 and 2018, a venture that ended in disappointment and forced him back to Sierra Leone.

In 2019, he decided to go on the road again. He shows us a map on his phone: “I left Sierra Leone for Guinea-Conakry. This is my hometown, Kabbalah. So from there, I moved, to come to this side, Farana.  Between Kabbalah  and Farana there are many villages, so it’s not too difficult to cross on that side. But you know, each country has its own police checkpoint. When you come to the border to enter Guinea, you meet the Sierra Leone checkpoint and then the Guinea checkpoint on the other side of the border. When you pass this last one, you enter Guinea.”

Mohammed mainly travelled alone,  but sometimes had to join a group. “To enter Mali, we were more than 15 people. From Guinea, Sierra Leone, Liberia, all of us trying to enter Mali. We also had children with us, two-year-olds and six-month-old babies.” He emphasises the difficulty of crossing into Mali from Guinea due to stringent border controls, stating “You know, when you’re facing that border, everybody’s trying to survive because to enter Mali from Guinea is not easy. The border is too tight.” He explains that bribes are necessary to cross. “Whatever checkpoint you pass by on that highway, you pay money before you pass.” The ones who cannot pay  have to “sneak inside” Mali on their own, which is far more challenging.

Venturing into the north of the continent, particularly in attempting to enter Algeria, proves perilous for migrants like Mohammed. “From Timbuktu [Mali] to Algeria, that’s the longest distance and it’s the scariest one,” Mohammed  says. “If you have money, you can take a car. You spend three days in the Sahara desert in the back of a pickup van. That’s where people are dying. We were 36 in the back of the van. If you fall down, they will leave you. The driver will never stop.” Surviving this treacherous journey only leads to further challenges at the North African borders. Mohammed describes encountering armed groups: “There are some Arab  lads. We don’t know who they are. They have their guns, they have their own government. Those are the guys who are killing people there, they are beating people and taking everything they have.”

Having spent six months in Algeria, Mohammed sheds light on the harsh realities faced by migrants in  that country. “I was working in a construction company. Sometimes our boss would not pay us, he would owe us more than three months of salary. That’s why people leave and go to Morocco or Libya.” Financial insecurity is compounded by the spectre of racism, as Mohammed explains: “If the Algerian government says they will deport blacks, no matter where you are living, they will come for you. They will raid any place where black migrants live. Through that process, some people die. Some people jump from skyscrapers to escape. They bit us and then deported us to the Nigerian border. They leave you in the Sahara desert between Niger and Algeria.” 

He claims to have also faced racism from local residents.  “In the street, when they see us, some people use their clothes to block their nose. But I believe that I’m taking good care of myself. We are not smelling, you know. But racism, it’s not easy. I love my colour. I love this colour and I’m proud of myself.”

Reflecting on the broader picture of migration in North Africa, Mohammed paints a grim portrait of desperation and survival. “I don’t know about the coming years, but for now, people are suffering to enter this side. Between these borders, starting from Mali to Algeria to Tunisia, people are suffering. In fact, people are dying in the desert. It’s a game of chance. Everybody is fighting for himself. You can only trust your loved ones or your friends. You guys will fight together. That’s how the road works. Until today in Tunisia, that’s how we survive.” 

Navigating the streets of Sfax, a bustling Tunisian city perched by the Mediterranean, proves to be a daunting challenge for Mohammed and thousands of others who view it as a launching pad towards Europe. “We are thousands. People are begging in the streets, there is no work here. Some people are nice and give us some food. We want to leave but without money there is no way… I want to go to France and build a life there.” Mohammed shares, yearning for a better future across the seas. Despite the uncertainty looming over him,  he remains steadfast in his resolve. “Inshallah. And I know I will do it. I know I will do it. I’m just waiting for my time.“

This article is part of the special series “Tunisia – Land of Passage”, produced by Specto Media and aidóni. Listen to the podcast here.

 

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