Marie’s Journey from Cameroon
Sometimes what we have to share is our story.
A story behind the numbers; from Cameroon to Greece, this is Marie'’s journey in her own words.
WARNING: Sensitive Content
PART 1/3
THE GOVERNMENT IS OUR ARMY, OUR POLICE AND OUR JUSTICE SYSTEM
I come from the southern part of Cameroon which is the Anglophone part of the country. I come from a big family of siblings and step-siblings. My early childhood was a happy one, but when I was 11 my mother passed away and after that life was not so easy. My father remarried with a very dominating woman, and I had a hard time living under her rules.
I finished my secondary school and became a mother when I was very young, I was only 17 when I had my first son. Everyday life as an Anglophone in Cameroon is a real struggle because Francophones are always favoured by the government. You can have all the grades and qualifications you need for a job, but any work that is going will always go to a Francophone person first. I tried to set up my own business trading in palm oil and selling clothes but it was not easy to bring up children under these circumstances. Still, I took life as God gave it to me.
I went on to have another boy and a girl later on in life. Five years ago I reconnected with a childhood friend who has been living and working in Germany for many years. He came to Cameroon to see me and we decided to get married. Getting a spousal visa for me to join him in Germany was extremely difficult, especially during the unrest in Cameroon, so to this day we are having a long distance relationship.
My country has been in turmoil for as long as I can remember; we have had a dictator in place for 39 years who is not stepping down. The Anglophone part of the country wish to separate from the Francophone part of Cameroon, but as we are a minority this is no easy task. The conflict turned very violent in 2016. The Francophone Government holds all the heavy weaponry and the Anglophones have been fighting them with only machetes. I have seen so many people lose their lives and so many people have been displaced and are living in squalor. They are hiding out in the jungles in make-shift huts knowing they may never be able to return to their homes.
The Government’s army has been using rape as a weapon of war: women and even children are being targeted, houses and villages are being burnt. It’s all part of the regime’s control of the country and the victims have no chance of holding their rapists responsible. The government is our army, the government is our police and the government is our justice system.
I was trying to survive and keep my family safe. But in 2018 the army also reached my village. I was violently raped by a military man, he held me at knifepoint and stabbed me in the stomach when I tried to resist.
I fled with my children to the city where my stepmother was living after my father died. She allowed my teenage daughter and son to stay with her, but I had nowhere to go. I tried to get a visa to join my husband in Germany, but the process was long and impossible. I couldn’t stay in Cameroon any longer: there was nowhere I would be safe. I reached out to a Cameroonian friend of mine who had fled to Turkey in 2016, and she promised to help me if I would make it there. My plan was to get an operation there for the knife wounds in my tummy.
I had to go to Yaounde to organise my escape, but even just to make it past all the checkpoints there was a very dangerous and traumatic journey. First I had to buy a visa to Nigeria. From there I flew to Turkey.
PART 2/3
IN A STRANGE COUNTRY ALONE AND WITH NOWHERE TO GO
When I arrived to Istanbul my friend was not there as agreed and her phone number was disconnected. I was in a strange country with nowhere to go and I didn’t know anyone.
I saw an African man at the airport and I asked him if he could help me. He took me to his house and offered me food. But he said if I wanted to stay there I would have to sleep with him. I refused so he threw me out onto the streets. It was December and so freezing cold outside, which I was completely unprepared for. I approached a woman and her husband and asked if they could help me. They took me in but the wife was jealous and thought that I was after her husband so after a couple of days I was back out on the street again.
There were a lot of people living on the streets, refugees from all over the Middle East who were passing through Turkey. I asked the people where they were going and what they were doing and they all seemed to be making their way to the West. It was the first time I had heard of Greece, I didn’t even know where it was on the map. I lingered around Izmir for a few days and I talked to a smuggler. I asked him a million questions about where these people were going and how they were getting there. I told him I had nothing but the clothes on my back and I think somehow he was amused by me, so he offered me a place in his boat for free. I had never planned to go to Greece but I just surrendered myself to fate.
Many things went through my mind when we crossed on the water, but I just told myself that whatever will be will be and wherever we arrive is where I will lay my head. It was just another thing that came on my path while I was trying to survive.
I knew absolutely nothing about Greece. When we arrived I wasn’t even sure if we had really made it there until we saw the Greek flag - we had landed on one of the Greek islands. The police arrived and told us to come with them and take us to the camp. I was very naïve and I had no idea what to expect of the camp. I thought that we would be put in a comfortable house with a comfortable bed and given decent food. But instead I saw the camp was make shift, very dirty, overcrowded and filled with all these thin tents.
After we were taken for our interview we were put inside a large tent to share with 10 other ladies. It was December and I had never experienced this kind of cold before. I didn’t have any winter clothes, and I just had a simple blanket. We suffered so much from the cold and lack of facilities: there were rats everywhere and we had no electricity or enough food.
The first 2 weeks I hardly left my bed because I was so frozen. A few of the other ladies one day came back with warm clothes and I asked them how they got these things. They explained they were being distributed outside. I got a ticket for new socks from the Iraqi man living opposite my tent. I went down to the front gate at my allotted time and I received some new socks with the distribution ticket.
When the girls at the van found out that I spoke French and English they asked me if I would be interested in volunteering with them. I pondered a little but then I said to myself ‘why not?’. Because I have always had a deep love of helping people. I have complete trust in God, and because of this I can give someone my own food and stay hungry myself, and I know I will survive it. And if someone is too afraid to ask for something I will always ask for them because I am never afraid to carry another person’s burden.
PART 3/3
FULFILLING MY DAYS IN A MEANINGFUL WAY
I decided to invest all my time and energy into volunteering with the group. Some people would question me why I would be working for free. But at the end of the day I know that I have helped a lot of people. Also for myself it has been such a good experience to go out and meet so many different people. If you don’t volunteer and mingle with others, it’s very easy to become depressed in a place like that. I have learned so much about all these different cultures from people who I had never met in my life before.
I have met Europeans, Palestinians, people from Afghanistan, fellow Africans, Syrians, Kurds, Iraqis and Americans. And each day I meet someone new, my world opens up and I forget about all my own problems a little. At night when I would lay down my head after a long day of work, I could feel proud of myself because I had fulfilled my day in a meaningful way.
My days would consist of waking up early, and our team leader would pick us up and take us to the warehouse to start sorting toiletries or arranging the clothes. In the afternoon we would do the distributions. We have a really good but strict system where we give out tickets beforehand so that people get an equal chance to pick out the things they need, and I feel it is my job to make sure that nobody gets left behind during a distribution. I am often in charge of the line because I am so strong minded. We are always welcoming and respectful, but also we have to be strict to make sure that the system is fair for everyone. Sometimes men will try to intimidate me because they don’t like that there is a woman in charge, but I don’t allow them to - I know that if they get what they want someone else is going to be left behind. Because the quiet people, and the people who are too scared to ask for something are often in the greatest need for things.
As a coordinator I have eyes and ears everywhere in the camp, I always try to find out what people will need and make sure that also the invisible people get served. I give my personal phone number out to anyone who needs it, people will send me messages or call me anytime of the day. Sometimes they don’t speak English, but somehow we always figure it out through picture messages or Google translate. It can be quite a process, but I have so much experience by now that I know what people need the most. I didn’t want to leave the island because I knew my job so well. I have met so many people and I have gotten to know everyone’s culture, and how they like to dress and what they like to eat. I can differentiate between each nationality just by seeing or listening to people, and I know exactly what type of dress the women like to wear or what kind of shoes the men want to have.
My heart was fully invested into the volunteer work when I was transferred to Athens and put into a nearby camp. I stayed there for one month but all I wanted to do was return to the island. My social worker found me work for 20 euros per day, but I missed the people and my colleagues. And I would rather volunteer for free doing meaningful work then working for small pay in Athens. I am not a person who needs a lot of money, I just need the most basic things for myself. My social worker said I was crazy, but I had this feeling inside me that if I am not there to help them, so many people will suffer, and I couldn’t live with this idea. She was very angry with me, but I knew my rights: I may be a refugee but I am not a prisoner. I feel a strong connection and responsibility to the people on that island.
I came back and have been working practically by myself since the start of the pandemic, as all the European volunteers had to go home. The team have rented a small studio for me, from where I do all the work that needs to be done and from where I organise the distributions. At the moment we have so many newborns, so a lot of my time is taken up by preparing the baby packs. There is a Greek man with a car who comes to pick me up and we do the distribution from his car. The circumstances are quite difficult at the moment, but I try to make sure we still reach everyone.
I keep busy and I fill my life with serving others, but I also have many worries of my own. I worry a lot about the safety of my children back in Cameroon, but I put my faith in God to protect them. There is nothing more I can do for them other than pray for God to keep them safe and hope that one day this civil war will end. At the same time I am trying to join my husband who is still living in Germany. I hope that when I arrive to Germany I will also be able to bring my children to safety there. If that time comes, I think it will be very hard for me to leave this island, I love the people and I love the project. I don’t think I will ever be able to really leave, I’d probably come back every holiday and every opportunity I get because this place is engrained very deep in my heart.
This is Marie’s story to June 2021, yet her journey is not over.
To be continued.
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