by
Pamela Kerpius

Recorded:
16 April 2021

Published:
31 May 2021

Meet Samba.

23 years old and from Serekunda, Gambia.

To reach Europe he crossed five countries: Senegal, Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger, and the most dangerous of all, Libya.

Samba is originally from The Gambia, but moved to Senegal in 2012. In 2015, he left Senegal on his journey to Europe that took about one year.

After his bus from Senegal entered Mali he encountered a number of security checkpoints, all of which were established more in the name of receiving bribes from passengers than about managing border security. Though, passengers’ documents would still be requested. A sliding scale payment was put in place depending on documentation status. I you have your documents, there’s a lower fee. If not, the price is higher.

Passengers would frequently be arrested. The average holding time was about 3-5 days, although Samba was only held for a few minutes, he said, before he paid 1,000 West African CFA Franc for his release.

Samba also speaks the West African tribal dialect Bambara, which made communication much easier for him in Mali and in Burkina Faso. The checkpoints through Burkina were more complicated than the others, so his command of the language supported his swifter movement through the country. Still, he saw a number of people around him taken and deported, regardless if they had their national IDs.

It also helped that Samba had enough money to pay the bribes as they came up. At his final stop in Burkina he paid 3,000 CFA, before finally departing on a bus to Agadez, Niger.

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He stayed in a compound in Agadez for one week that held more than 100 people. He slept on the floor, lined up and tightly packed with the others. For food he would take a handful of cooked rice from the shared serving, which by his measure, was enough food for about five people.

“You have to get there fast,” Samba said. Sometimes people didn’t eat, there wasn’t enough. They drank some bottled water, sometimes it was from the fountain. All inside were men, and sometimes they would venture outside to move or find food, but never after 9:00p.m. It was too dangerous by then in the dark when police would be on patrol.

Samba left the compound and crossed the Sahara desert in the back of large pickup truck, possibly a cargo truck, that held fifty to 60 people. They had containers among them that held about four or 5 liters of water each. Still, the water was kept in the front in the cab, so until the truck stopped for a break no one got to drink.

There was only one women traveling among the group of men. She traveled up front with the driver. In the desert at night there is no visibility, it’s too dark. They slept on the ground. Samba remembers seeing one tree along the way. He remembers more commonly, seeing bodies buried along the way. He and the others drank dirty well water when the original containers went empty.

At one point, one young man fell from the truck, but he was luckily recovered; everyone survived aboard the crossing that took three or 4 days total.

He arrived in Gadron*, Libya, staying just for a few hours before he was transferred to Sabha and remained there for one week.

There was a yard outside of the compound in Sabha that held in the upwards of 400 people, including women and children, and people of many nationalities – Gambian, Senegalese, Malian, Nigerian, and more.

The Nigerian women there were penniless and working as prostitutes, it was their only means of financial survival. There were brothels around town, and also into Tripoli, as he saw when he arrived there later.

In the meantime, conditions and safety were precarious. A Gambian woman Samba knew was being threatened. He tried to protect her, but one night after he fell asleep she was taken and raped.

Most people didn’t go out because it was too dangerous, or because they didn’t have the money to afford basic provisions they’d otherwise buy from a nearby market. The market was made specifically for the passing population of migrants in the area, charging inflated rates on groceries and water, about twice as much as normal.

Those who had money would pool it together for food, cook and eat as a group. Those without were at the mercy with whatever scant food and unclean tap water was provided at the compound.

Here his traffickers claimed he only paid through to Tripoli, a couple of stops further north in Libya, when in fact he had paid for the entire journey to the coast. His uncle knew one of the traffickers since the start of his trip, and when Samba mentioned his name the trafficker obliged him.

He arrived in Bani Waled and was eager to move on quickly.

“Every day they say, ‘tomorrow, tomorrow,’” but he ended up staying for two weeks. It’s widely known to be a more dangerous city than Sabha, and this was Samba’s experience, as well.

More then 200 people were locked inside a compound that was divided into small rooms that held three to 4 people each. There was no separate bathroom and people would use the toilet right there on the floor of the rooms where they also slept. He was so cramped he was unable to straighten his limbs while he would sleep. He heard a man being beaten in another room. That man had broken protocol and gone out for food.

Samba was advising his friends back home in West Africa not to come.

“The pain I see there, I don’t want my brother to come to Libya – so he doesn’t experience the pain,” Samba said.

In Tripoli he remained in a compound for one month that held around 100-150 people, including women and children. Here, as with each stop before, it was only those with money in their pocket who would have the luxury of food and fresh water. He drank tap water only. He attempted working. Every day at 7:00 or 8:00a.m. he’d stand on a corner where it was common for migrants to meet employers who would pick them up for the day.

It was dangerous. You cannot trust everyone who offers you work. One man he knew was attacked. His leg was hurt so badly he couldn’t walk down stairs.

From Tripoli he arrived in the coastal camp Sabratha, where he remained for about a month. His boat with 130 people pushed off the shore but was intercepted and brought back to land.

People were stripped naked to find any money on them. Three taxis then transferred the captured passengers to prison. The group rallied to be released, invoking the name of their captain who was essential to the sea operations the traffickers were organizing back onshore. The guards called the captain’s name. When someone else pretending to be him stepped forward, Samba didn’t say anything. He just wanted to go.

There were more than 200 people waiting on the seaside. He was called with three others to inflate one of four boats – his was the last to depart on the final day of Ramadan in 2016.

Samba crossed the Mediterranean Sea in a rubber dinghy with 120 people, including women and children at 4:00 or 5:00a.m. He was out to sea for five hours before being rescued by an Italian ship in international waters.

He spent two days on board before landing in Crotone, Italy. He wasn’t sure of the exact date, but he believes it was 28 June 2016. We met Samba in Rome, where he lives, on 16 April 2021 where we recorded this story.

Samba is an amazing human being.

* City name not verified