A collection of testimonies of the protest of Sudanese refugees in the Agadez camp, in Niger
As the protests by refugees continue in the controversial “ humanitarian center ” of Agadez , the government of Niger received Elizabeth Tan, director of the Division for International Protection at the UNHCR office in Geneva, in early December. This was an important visit given the profile of Tan, who has worked for UNHCR since 1995 and has operated in several African contexts, including Burundi, Egypt and Sudan.
According to the official social media channels of UNHCR Niger on December 3 , Tan's visit took place in two key stops: Hamdallaye, at a transit centre, and Ouallam, where a local office of the agency operates. Posts and images released by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees paint a picture of harmony and collaboration between the agency, the Nigerien institutions and the refugees, in a reassuring and tension-free climate.
A picture that is completely different from the reality of the center of Agadez, on the other side of the country. Here, refugees continue to demonstrate daily, organizing sit-ins and displaying signs with their demands.
The same happened on December 5, when Tan visited the Agadez camp. But unlike the other stops, this one was not mentioned in official communiqués. A detail that adds to the veil of opacity surrounding the camp, systematically excluded from public communications and reports of UNHCR's activities in Niger.
“ It seems that our situation is somehow marginalized, put aside ,” Farid, one of the camp residents, tells me, with whom I manage to have a long conversation on the phone, one evening when the connection is better than usual. “ There is a clear difference between us and the other camps. Ours does not receive any attention… it almost seems like it depends on some decisions related to global political dynamics. It seems like something bigger is happening on a global level that we are not aware of .”
Refugees took advantage of the visit from Geneva to make their protest heard. But as long as the issue is kept under wraps and does not enter the public debate, structural solutions are unlikely to be proposed.
According to people in the camp we are in contact with, Tan spoke of measures such as voluntary repatriations, resettlements and local integration initiatives. But there is a lot of disillusionment with these solutions.
Transfers from the camp have long been at a standstill, and few countries offer resettlement opportunities. Repatriation is impossible for most people, who come from Sudan or other countries with unstable conditions, and local integration is virtually absent in an isolated center like Agadez.
" You can't work, there is no work in this place. There are even people trying to take their own lives, the situation is very serious. Nothing is right here ," Farid explains. Trying to attract the world's attention is one of the few tools that people in the camp have. So they show their slogans and record statements.
The sit-in is always well attended, there are also several women. One of them launches an appeal: " We came here looking for safety, but we found the opposite: high temperatures, intense cold, a lot of sand and dirt, which have caused us illnesses and allergies. We need your help. It's been more than two months since the protest began and the situation remains very serious ."
It is a peaceful form of protest. But despite this, refugees are being pressured to stop. Since the mobilization began, staff have suspended paperwork and medical visits. And it is not uncommon for the authorities who run the camp to ask people to stop participating in the sit-in if they want services to resume.
The stories of Agadez refugees: between abuses, rejections and hopes
Amplifying the voices of those who are fighting against this inhuman management of borders also means understanding what they have been through. This is why we have collected the testimonies of some people who live in the center of Agadez: their stories tell us how important it is for freedom of movement to become a universal right, and how much hope and dignity there is behind every choice to move. Too often, international protection is emptied of its meaning in the eyes of those who have the right to it. But above all, the stories of migration make clear the inadequacy of a system that creates death, exploitation, and marginalization.
Ismail
Ismail is 32 years old and comes from West Darfur, Sudan. The region has been a scene of violence and instability for decades. “ Since 2004, I have fled with my family from the locality of Kulbus, located northeast of the city of El Geneina, 160 kilometers away. The Janjaweed militias attacked the city, looted all our properties, everything we owned, burned our house. We witnessed all kinds of violence and oppression. We were no longer safe, so my family and I decided to go to the city of El Geneina . ”
A new life begins for Ismail, who enrolls in university and manages to graduate despite some moments of temporary closure of the university due to clashes between students and the government. After graduation, he opens a stationery shop near the campus. This period of stability ends abruptly, however, when a militia storms the neighborhood and loots Ismail's shop. "They burned the entire camp, killing more than 30 people, wounding over fifty and leaving more than 200 people missing. At that time, every educated person was a target to be eliminated. I was in the crosshairs and was forced to flee for fear of being killed."
It is the beginning of 2020 when he decides to leave Sudan and go to Libya. But after moving from one city to another, he is sold by traffickers and ends up in the Bani Walid camp. « They told me that anyone who paid two thousand Libyan pounds would be freed. At that time I had no money and I faced enormous difficulties. Every day I was beaten and tortured. I stayed only a week, but it seemed like years.
Then, I don't remember the exact date, but there was an incident in the house of a trafficker and a refugee near Bani Walid. One of the Libyan traffickers was killed, then his brother arrived and more than nine people were killed. It was the second and third day of Eid al-Fitr, and because of this incident the militias were no longer guarding the camp and we managed to escape .
Ismail then decides to go to Tripoli and try to cross the Mediterranean. However, the Libyan coast guard intercepts his boat and takes the people to Al-Zawiya prison. After a few days of detention, Ismail is released and manages to register as a refugee with the UNHCR.
But the situation is not safe: « One day there were protests in front of the UNHCR office because of the slowness of the procedures. The government intervened and the refugees were arrested and deported to an unknown destination. After these events, I went to the UNHCR to renew my document and, while I was leaving the UNHCR, I was arrested and transferred to Zintan ».
After this further experience of detention, Ismail left Libya and moved to Algeria: « I crossed the border through Debdeb, then I went to Ouargla and stayed there for several months. Then I went to the capital, Algiers, with the intention of going to Morocco » .
But the crossing did not go as hoped: « I was arrested by the police and detained in Tlemcen prison. I remained there for several weeks, suffering torture and violence from the police. I was released from prison on December 5, 2021 and remained on the streets for two days, until I reached a border area with Niger called Tamanrasset ».
A few days later, Ismail crosses the border, hoping to find a better situation in Niger. He is taken in by the transit center in Agadez, where he hopes to start a resettlement procedure in a European country.
Since then, however, his request for asylum has remained at a standstill. Furthermore, Ismail suffers from a health problem that, during the years of forced displacement, has never been adequately addressed: "I have had an eye problem since I was twelve years old and, until now, I have not received any treatment. Since I arrived in Niger, due to the desert dust, my eyes have gotten worse and I have not received any treatment. I cannot sleep at night because of the pain ."
The doctor who examined him determined that his eyesight had weakened precisely because of the dust. The report states that Ismail's health conditions would require " a more hygienic environment and continuous treatments. If left untreated, this disease can lead to blindness or severe visual impairment ." However, not even the doctor's report was able to unblock the procedure for the transfer.
Ismail's story has much in common with that of many other Sudanese refugees, who fled the country because of the conflict and then from Libya because of the constant abuses to which foreigners are subjected.
Karim
Karim has been in the Agadez camp since 2018, where he lives with his wife and two children. Also originally from Darfur, he left his homeland after an armed attack: " One day, a group of Janjaweed militiamen attacked our village, women and girls were raped, and some members of my family were killed before my eyes ."
The militiamen seized property and homes, displacing many of the residents. Karim was traumatized by the events. He spent a few years in the Zamzam camp, then decided to go to Libya, where he ended up in the hands of traffickers. He was subjected to torture and forced labor, until he managed to escape to Niger in December 2017, where he registered as an asylum seeker together with his wife. Shortly after, they were transferred to the Agadez center.
" The conditions in the camp are catastrophic. When I arrived, my health was far from stable. I was in pain, I was sick and I did not receive any treatment ." The situation worsens when the bureaucratic procedures are suspended.
«In December 2019, some employees announced that they had lost the files of all refugees in the camp. We decided to go to the UNHCR offices in the city and organize a peaceful sit-in in front of the headquarters. However, on January 4, 2020, just twenty days after the protest began, the sit-in was brutally dispersed by the Nigerien authorities.
The police intervened in the camp, spreading rumours among the refugees which further fuelled tensions. When the protest broke out, the police responded with excessive force, using firearms and shooting live ammunition at the refugees. This led to the death of one of us, who was hit by a bullet, a tragedy that highlights the violation of our rights and the lack of security in the humanitarian centre .
Billal
Bilal has lived in a refugee camp in Sudan since he was a child, after armed violence hit his home village in 2003. He then managed to move there for his university studies and graduated in 2017. A few months later, however, he was the victim of a nighttime attack by militiamen and was injured in the leg. He then decided to flee to Libya.
« I worked in Kufra for two months while receiving medical treatment, then moved to Tarhuna. There I found work on a farm, but was exploited, physically abused and had my documents stolen. I ran away again and arrived in Ajdabiya, where I survived by doing odd jobs. I eventually moved to Benghazi, where I found work on a farm and managed to save enough to get married.
My wife joined me in Libya, also facing difficulties with traffickers and extortion. Fearing for our lives due to encounters with the same attackers as Tarhuna and the impossibility of returning to Sudan or remaining in Libya, we decided to seek asylum in Niger .
It is 2021 when Bilal and his wife arrive in Agadez, through an IOM asylum program. Since then, he has been waiting for UNHCR to include his family in a relocation program.
Mohammed
Mohamed also arrived in the Agadez camp in 2021, after years of wandering.
He was still a minor when he left the country: « I fled Sudan in 2017 because of armed violence in my hometown. I fled to Libya, where I was tortured, beaten and abused. Once I arrived in Libya, I worked for two years on a farm, forced to work under torture, with very little food and water. I tried to escape, but I didn't have enough money, and it was extremely difficult to keep going.
After that, I worked for two years in a mechanical workshop, but exposure to smoke and carbon caused serious problems with my eyesight. I was only 15 years old and faced the same hardships as in the other company: torture and forced labor. Eventually, I managed to escape with the help of a young Sudanese man, Salih, in the city of Sabha. It was he who told me about the camp in Niger, where I moved in 2021. Three months ago, I had contact with the UNHCR, but I have not yet been able to solve my problems .
Mohamed also has health problems that have not been treated properly: " I have not yet received medical care and humanitarian organizations have not found a solution for me, even though I am a refugee. I have already lost my family and I do not want to lose my life too ."
He tells us that he lost both his parents and his brother, and that he no longer has contact with what remains of his family.
“ I have family members living in Zamzam refugee camp [in Sudan, ed.] since May 2022, but I have not been able to communicate with them. I do not know if they are alive or dead. My brother, Mohammed Mukhtar, died during the displacement, as did other members of my family, including my mother. My father had already died during the war, when I was a child. I have lost a large part of my family due to the conflict in Sudan, a country where there is a complete lack of security. Many families have been torn apart by militia violence and constant killings, there is no future in my land .”
Farid
The lack of future prospects is the reason why Farid also left Sudan in 2022. He has a degree and has worked in various jobs, always precarious. Every now and then he thinks about returning, but then he becomes discouraged: he sees no future among the armed violence and economic difficulties that afflict Sudan. He would like to continue his studies and live a dignified life.
Farid arrived in the camp several months ago, after a series of events that led him to cross North Africa in a few years. He initially worked in Benghazi, Libya, where he encountered various difficulties and discrimination. When he arrived in Tunisia, he obtained international protection documents from UNHCR, but he never imagined he would find such a harsh situation. This is the effect of the racist turn of the current president who, supported by European funding, points to migrants as a danger to public safety.
After moving around the country, Farid and others end up in the spiral of arrests and forced transfers to which many migrants have been subjected by the Tunisian government in recent years.
" They held us at the Choucha Center [near the border with Libya, ed.] for a day, then transferred us to Mornaguia prison for four or five days. Afterwards, we were presented before the prosecutor and then to the court, where a lawyer defended us. The judge issued a decision for our release. About 12 hours after the court ruling, we were given back our personal belongings and release documents. We were then transferred to one of the border guard offices in the capital, Tunis, around 2:30 in the morning.
We stayed there until the morning, when they interrogated us again, fingerprinted us and searched us. They confiscated our mobile phones, money, UNHCR cards, release documents and all our personal belongings. They even tried to take my asthma sprays. They just told us: you are illegal migrants. This is Tunisia, not your country.
We were divided into two groups: one for the families, who remained in that place, and one for the young men. We, the young men, were put in two closed vehicles and transported to the border with Algeria. We left at 5:30 p.m. and arrived at night. At the border they confiscated our water bottles. They left us in the darkness of the night, surrounded by forests, mountains and pouring rain, and they told us to go in a certain direction, pointing to the forests and mountains. I looked to my right and saw a sign that said: Algeria-Tunisia border .
What happens in Algeria to people deported from neighboring countries is even less known. Here too there is no reception system for asylum seekers, everything is left to the arbitrariness of the police.
" We stayed on a mountain for 10 days. We had nothing. We survived only thanks to the help that came to us from some Algerian residents and local organizations. One day, at six in the morning, the Algerian security forces arrived. The first thing they did was search us, take our phones, equipment, money and everything we had with us in that place. Then, they took us to one of the centers inside the city of Tébessa ."
Farid and his companions remain there for 12 long days, subjected to inhuman treatment. " The conditions were catastrophic: terrible food, sometimes spoiled milk, poor services and ventilation, overcrowding. There were many small children, women and girls ." When people feel sick, including children, they do not receive assistance.
The Algerian authorities are extremely harsh: " When they were distributing food, they came with batons and electric batons. One day a fight broke out inside the hall, and they used tear gas, even against women and children. Every time you went to the police, the police beat you. You are considered just an illegal migrant. For anything, if you ask a question or talk to them for any reason, they beat you or answer you rudely. They tell you that you are just an immigrant and you have to go back to your country ."
On the twelfth day, at 4 am, the police come to pick up the refugees, load them onto a bus and transfer them to Tamanrasset, near the border with Niger.
Crossing the border seemed like the best option: “ One day, one of the refugees told us that his brothers had gone to Agadez and that the situation there was good. We had some money saved and tried to gather more support, both from Sudan and other countries. With the funds we had collected, we set off to Arlit and then to the Agadez area. They had described Agadez as a place where we would find a better life, real opportunities and decent treatment from the staff. They had told us about a more favorable situation and a well-equipped camp .”
But the reality is quite different. In Agadez, Farid finds a poorly managed center that lacks the most basic services. The Nigerien staff says that you have to wait a month after registration before accessing aid packages.
As soon as we arrived at the camp, we found ourselves suffering again. We kept telling ourselves that we had escaped from one nightmare only to end up in another. And the frustration turned into anger. As we suffered, they kept telling us: “You are in the camp, wait…”. And so, we waited, feeling completely helpless .
What future for these people?
United by a history of violence and abuse, the refugees living in the center of Agadez are tired of waiting for their rights to be recognized. Registering as a refugee in Niger means living in wait, constantly anxious about their future.
"This process can take one to two years. Some people have been waiting since 2021 without having received refugee status."
The delay in the procedures is the main reason for the start of the protests, a situation that worsened after all the activities of the center were suspended.
" The protests erupted when, in 2022, all activities at the humanitarian center were suspended and procedures began to suffer delays, making it increasingly difficult for refugees to access their rights. This was compounded by inadequate treatment by some UNHCR staff, the continued loss of documents, the lack of clear plans by organizations and recurrent fires in the center ."
The most serious thing is that there is no longer any medical staff in the camp. " There have been threats, cases of miscarriages, premature deaths of newborns and serious medical problems that often result in disability or, in the worst cases, death. Infectious diseases have spread widely ."
The protesters are demanding resettlement in a third country and an effective asylum system. To date, there has been no response from the Nigerien authorities or the UNHCR. On the contrary, the CNE, the Nigerien agency in charge of registering refugees, is pressuring the protesters to stop the protest, threatening to use force to disperse it.
This is why it is important to amplify and support the protest which, in a scenario where the externalization of borders functions as one of the main neocolonial tools of Europe in Africa, represents a real struggle for self-determination.
Let us remember that the Italian Ministry of the Interior is one of the main financiers of the “ humanitarian center ” of Agadez. We cannot ignore the inhuman system that European governments directly finances, under the illusion that moving the borders further south will serve to save our privileges.
This piece was assembled partially with the help of Laura Morreale
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