“My name is Ali, I come from Kobanê, in Syria’s Kurdistan. I was a student in English literature but I wasn’t able to carry on because of the war. I hope that I will be able to study in the UK. I left Kobanê when the terrostists of Daesh came and invaded us. It was very hard to leave, I don’t know how to explain this but I love my city, it’s my soil, my people. We have had enough of Daech, enough of the war, we want all this to stop. I love my city and I’d like you to write its name on my house.”
“My name is Kaiji. I’m both from Ethiopia and Erytrea. I couldn’t stay in Ethiopia after my father died, and I couldn’t stay in Eritrea either because of my religion. I’m a Pentecostal (protestant), and since I’m not Orthodox or Muslim, I was in serious danger. I left home with my wife and went across the Sahara desert in the back of a truck with 75 other refugees during 2 weeks. We couldn’t move and the driver only gave us a small piece of chocolate a tiny bit of water each day. At the border between Sudan and Libya, the Libyans took all our money, jewelry and sometimes even our clothes. Many women were raped. When we got to Tripoli we were locked inside a sort of prison with 150 other people. It was hell, it stank, there were no windows and we were there for 5 weeks. I managed to call my family and they sent some money over to free my wife and I. Then we took a small boat that took us to Lampedusa, a small Italian island. From there we were sent to continental Italy, and the authorities put us in a camp in Bari. There was no work there and nothing to do. We escaped and took several trains all the way up to Northern France. We hid in the toilets to avoid the controllers.
A week ago my wife managed to get to England. I helped her climb on the top of a freight train; she stood on my shoulders and managed to climb up. Unfortunately there was no one to help me climb so I told her I would meet her there. She called me when she got to the other side of the tunnel. She’s now in London waiting for me, and people are taking care of her. I need to go and join her, she’s 4 months pregnant and I really want to be there for the birth of my first child.
You want me to choose just one word? Hmmmm… “FAITH”.”
We’re spending a week in the “Jungle” refugee camp in Northern France where 5000 migrants mostly from the Middle East and East Africa are attempting to cross the English Channel and settle in the UK. As usual, we asked them which words they would like to share.
“My dream is to go to the UK, start a new life and have a family…” – Nugusu, from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
After 12 days of work we have completed our biggest ever piece! For the East Stand of Berimo Stadium, we got together with some of the youth, and decided on 3 words which we all thought might be the most important elements of life.
Berimo Stadium is the only football pitch in the slum of Lideta. It has a capacity of roughly 3000 people, and hunderds of people use it each day.
The West Stand of Berimo Stadium with the word “Lideta” written in Amharic. People wanted the name of their slum written big enough for everyone to see it from the main road.
[FR]: Après 12 jours de travail, nous venons de terminer notre plus grande oeuvre jamais réalisée ! Pour la Tribune Est de Berimo Stadium, nous nous sommes concertés avec des jeunes locaux pour choisir 3 mots qui nous ont paru être les éléments les plus importants de la vie.
Berimo Stadium est le seul terrain de foot du bidonville de Lideta. Il a une capacité d’environ 3000 personnes, et des centaines de joueurs l’utilisent chaque jour.
La Tribune Ouest du Berimo Stadium, avec “Lideta” écrit en amharique. Les locaux voulaient que le nom de leur bidonville soit écrit suffisamment grand pour que tout le monde puisse le lire de la grande rue.
“I choose the word “buna”, which means “coffee”. It’s so much part of our culture here, and it’s something we like to share”. – Solomon
Beriha et Abrehet, two sisters from Lideta, chose to share the word ” Beiteseb ” (Family).
Tsion chose the word Harmony. This is also a word we’ve also been asked to pain in Indonesia and Kenya.