Bangui Muslims skeptical about French disarming

The French peacekeeping troops in Bangui, the capital of the Central African Republic, insisted that they are disarming all armed rebels, a contention questioned by many Muslims.

Bangui Muslims skeptical about French disarming

BANGUI

The French peacekeeping troops in Bangui, the capital of the Central African Republic, insisted on Tuesday that they are disarming all armed rebels, a contention questioned by many Muslims.

“The first objective is to identify any party bearing arms and then to proceed to their disarmament,” General Francisco Soriano, the commander of the French contingent, told reporters at the French military base near Bangui airport.

“We know that arms have been spread across the country but we are carrying out some operations to cover those areas,” he added.

France has some 1,600 peacekeepers deployed in the country under a UN mandate to restore security and protect civilians.

They set up check points on the main road of the capital city earlier on Tuesday.

The troops would stop and search local vehicles and disarm people carrying weapons at the time, not those hiding weapons in their homes.

The majority of the checkpoints, however, were only out for a few hours before the peacekeepers headed back to their base.

It seemed more like a show of force than an actual disarmament exercise.

CAR, a mineral-rich landlocked country, descended into anarchy in March, when Seleka rebels, who are mostly Muslims, ousted Christian President François Bozize, who had assumed power in a 2003 coup.

According to UN estimates, more than 400,000 people – nearly ten percent of the country’s 4.6 million-strong population – have abandoned their homes as a result of the violence.

Hundreds have been killed in tit-for-tat sectarian violence between seleka fighters and self-styled anti-balaka Christian militias Bangui alone in recent days.

-Blinded-

In Kilometer 5, a Muslim-majority neighborhood of the capital, the locals accused the French and African troops of aiding the Christian militias.

“They are only disarming Muslims. The anti-Balaka still have their weapons,” claimed Hassan Haroon.

“We want peace, but look what the Christians have done,” he fumed.

“They destroyed some of our mosques, desecrated the Quran, killed pregnant women, and murdered children.  Some of them were chopped to bits,” Haroon told AA.

Yahya Abu Bakr, another local Muslim, agrees.

“The French are only disarming the Muslims,” he insisted. “How about they disarm the anti-Balaka?”

Some Muslims went as far as accusing the French troops of turning a blind eye to the killing of their fellow religionists.

“We are scared in our own country,” lamented Hassan Bashir, insisting that the French do not care about Muslims.

“If someone kills a Muslims, loots our property, or destroys a mosque, it doesn’t bother the French troops, they are not here for us,” he claimed.

Back at the French military base, General Soriano said he was aware of “misconceptions” about his troops.

“Our operation is not partial,” he maintained. “We take into consideration both parties.”

Read the original article published in Anadolu Agency on 17 December 2013

No end in sight for civilians in CAR

Anadolu Agency (AA) Correspondent Assed Baig has travelled to the war stricken region of the Central African Republic to report on the crisis

No end in sight for civilians in CAR

BANGUI

The number of internally displaced people camped at the airport in the capital of the Central African Republic, Bangui, has increased to 40,000 according to aid workers in the city.

In March this year Seleka Muslim rebels seized power in the majority Christian country. They removed the President Francois Bozize from power and replaced him with Michel Djotodia. The Seleka have been accused of carrying out atrocities against Christian communities. The Christian anti-Balaka or anti-machete have started to fight back, but not without being accused of atrocities of their own.

In recent weeks, the French have intervened in their former colony sending 1,600 troops to the troubled country to try and stop the violence that has ensued. 2,500 African Union troops are also in the country aiding the mission. President Djotodia has lost control of many of the rebels that brought him to power. People see him as lacking legitimacy. Although he has been trying to talk to militas of late, maybe fearing that his days in power are numbered if he cannot help bring some sort of peace to the country.

According to the United Nations Refugee Agency, 600 people were killed in violence last week. There is no real way of finding out the exact number as travelling outside of the capital is dangerous. There is still a curfew in place in Bangui.
Last week, the number of internally displaced people was 30,000, but despite the presence of French and African troops the number has increased as people still fear for their safety. They have camped at the airport where the French troops are based. They feel like it is safer. However, Médecins Sans Frontiéres (MSF) (Doctors Without Borders) workers told Anadolu Agency that there is not enough aid to meet the needs of those in the camp.

“Water, sanitation, plastic sheeting and blankets.  It’s cold at night and these are only the most basic of needs,” said Cpement Chauvel.

Standing inside the camp he told Anadolu Agency, “Nothing has been distributed, take a look around for yourself.”

MSF have been working on the ground with local and international staff. They recently wrote a letter to the United Nations criticising their response to the humanitarian crisis.

“All these people want is to go back to their homes. But they can’t go back until they feel it is safe,” said coordinator for MSF, Lindis Husum.

Malaria and malnutrition is also becoming a massive problem here at the camp. It is hot and there is very little shade. People line up crammed next to each other, waiting to be seen by MSF doctors that are working flat-out to try and meet the needs of these people.

Charoline Bekaye came to the camp two weeks ago. She has her two-year-old baby with her and waits in line to be seen by a medic.

“We fled because of the war. I will return, but only when it changes,” she told Anadolu Agency. Charoline is at the camp with her six children and says that she is struggling to feed them.

Larissa Danboi gave birth in the camp two weeks ago. Her baby boy is dressed in pink. “Any baby clothes I had were destroyed when our house was burnt down, this is all I have left,” she says.

The baby doesn’t have a name yet. The family didn’t expect the baby to be born in this camp. The last two weeks of violence have forced many to come here in search of a sense of safety.

“There is an average of eight babies being born a day here at this camp,” says Husum. “We have local midwives but we need more. There is one that has come into the country today. We can’t wait to see her, she is very badly needed,” Husum tells us.

The camp is surrounded by barbed wire and security is tight. Two French troops were killed last week, something that shocked the French and the local population. There is a process of disarming taking place, but locals told me that they believe rebels have just changed into civilian clothes and are hiding their weapons.

There have also been revenge attacks on Muslims carried out by Christians. Mosques have been burnt down and Muslims murdered in the street. People want to take their own form of justice; mob violence has been a common occurrence over the last two weeks. There is a lot of resentment towards the Seleka, but this has been directed towards Muslims in the country, even if they had nothing to do with the Seleka.

Shops and businesses were open today, taxis were running and people were in the streets. The road from the airport had African Union soldiers and police standing every 100 meters or so. Soldiers with their guns at the ready and police with their riot gear stand out amongst the locals. There is a feeling here that the atmosphere could switch at any minute and that the mobs will once again take to the streets to try and dish out their own form of justice.

Read the original article published in Anadolu Agency on 16 December 2013

AA witnesses tragedy of migrants in Libya

AA correspondent sheds light on the difficult journey of undocumented migrants from Libya to Europe via Italy.
By Assed Baig

TRIPOLI (AA) – Anadolu Agency (AA) correspondent investigates into migration and smuggling in Libya by traveling 640 km south of the capital Tripoli to Sabha, the largest city in the south.

Migrants from across Africa make their way from country to country, finally entering Libya. Here they try to reach Sabha, where they can either find work or locate smugglers that can take them to Tripoli.

Mukhtar, a 30-year-old local of Sabha who did not want to give his last name, smuggled migrants to Tripoli for eight years. He knows the routes and the process well, but now says that he has stopped.

He is a big man with a dark complexion, sports a short beard and has a very firm handshake. He stops occasionally to scribble in his notebook.

“Human smuggling is unethical and immoral, I don’t want to do it anymore,” he says.

Southern Libya is marred by lack of security and I was advised upon my arrival not to go out after dark.

Traveling outside of Sabha is even more difficult and we have to be especially careful when trying to visit the stations where migrants are dropped off in order to find local smugglers to take them to Tripoli.

Mukhtar tells me about the poor security situation. He has an AK-47 automatic rifle in the corner of the room. He sees that my eyes have fallen upon it, and suddenly stops mid conversation, walks over picks it up and heads straight for the door. He fires a round into the air whilst standing in the doorway. With a big smile on his face he looks at me and says, “Mia bi mia,” a common phrase used in Libya roughly translated as ‘100 out of 100.’

He tells me that he has to be armed. “It’s my security,” he says.

“I sometimes used to pick the migrants up from Qatrun, a village 300km south of Sabha on the main road to Chad and Niger.

“But the majority of the time I took them from Sabha,” he tells me as he lights up a cigarette.

He says he used to charge migrants 350 dinars (roughly $300) to take them to Tripoli. He took ten people at a time and did about ten journeys a month, making $3,000 a month.

He says he sometimes smuggled cigarettes and on rare occasions weapons.

“I was caught once with migrants in my car and they kept me for three months, they beat me badly, but I didn’t speak. After that they let me go, and I carried on smuggling,” he says. Another time he was caught with tobacco and was let out after a week.

Mukhtar tells me that they used expensive houses in affluent areas to hide migrants in between smuggling runs. This way, they were less likely to get caught, rather than keeping migrants in run-down derelict buildings.

Mukhtar was a smuggler during Gaddafi’s rule and he says that they drove throughout the night to get to Tripoli avoiding checkpoints.

“We drove with our headlights off,” he recalls.

“I was good at what I did, I knew the route,” almost boasting as he explained the details to me.

Mukhtar dubs the people-smuggling gangs as ‘mafia’ indicating their wealth and organizational capabilities. When I ask him about smuggling to Italy he simply says, “That’s a different mafia that deals with that, it is not us.”

Mukhtar was known as a seasoned smuggler and has a reputation as a strong man. He left his previous life and now runs a successful business making bricks.

After speaking to Mukhtar I head to a location where I am to meet a smuggler who still operates. I am told to wait in a room before he comes in.

A well built young man shakes my hand and then pulls out a handgun that is tucked into his jeans. He hands it to his friend before sitting down. Everyone carries guns here, especially smugglers. They can sometimes be the targets of other criminals because of the handsome money they make.

“There was no work for me so I started smuggling. It was difficult at first but it then became easy for me,” says the 22-year-old man who goes by the name “Akbar”.

He joined a group, or a ‘mafia’, when he first started smuggling. The first time he smuggled migrants to Tripoli he went with a friend, but after that he transported them on his own. He started smuggling people when he was 19.

“The first time I smuggled I was slightly fearful and afraid. ‘What happens if I have an accident or am caught by police?’ he voices. But after the first time my confidence grew and now I take it easy,” he says sitting crossed-leg on the floor.

Akbar used to study economics at university but dropped out because of poor family finances. He sometimes just acts as a broker passing people on to other smugglers and making a commission of 20 to 30 dinars ($20) on top. He only does this when he does not want to drive the migrants to Tripoli himself. As a ‘people dealer’ he can make $800 a month, much less than he earns when he does the job on his own.

“I switch the lights off and just drive through the desert. I don’t stop, it’s a 9-10 hour journey,” he says.

I ask what happens if a migrant falls off the back of the pickup truck. He laughs and says, “You just keep going.”

This is a common story. Migrants are often left in the desert to die if they fall off the trucks. The most hazardous journey is from Niger to Libya. Migrants often tie themselves with rope to the top of big trucks carrying other cargo. I am told that the Toubou militia are the ones that transport migrants into Libya on big cargo trucks.

The Toubou are an indigenous black people native to Libya. They were persecuted under Gaddafi and denied citizenship.

Migrants are picked up from the Al Manshia district of Sabha city by smugglers taking them to Tripoli.

“I smuggle men, women and children,” Akbar tells me whilst lighting up another cigarette.

I ask him if he feels sorry for the migrants.

He smiles, “I don’t feel sorry, this is my work.”

It is easier to smuggle now then it was under Gaddafi. However, the road is unsafe for everyone; there are militias and gangs of criminals that rob people along the route. Akbar, too, carries an AK-47 rifle with him when he is smuggling.

I ask him if he will ever leave this work, whether he will settle down and get married. He tells me that he is not even thinking about marriage at the moment as he is too busy working. Smuggling is not exactly a career you can boast about to your prospective wife or parents-in-law.

Akbar won’t let me take a picture of his face; he lets me take a picture of the back of his head. There is still a fear that the government may begin to clamp down on smugglers should law and order be implemented in the country.

Akbar needs another job before he will give up on people smuggling but there are no such prospects in the foreseeable future.

Read the original article published in Anadolu Agency on 7 December 2013 

Trafficking on human misery: encountering plight of undoc’d migrants fleeing Libya

AA commissions investigation into how Libyan smugglers transport undocumented migrants from the restive N.African state into Europe, via Italy.

Trafficking on human misery: encountering plight of undoc'd migrants fleeing Libya

LONDON

Anadolu Agency recently commissioned an investigation into how Libyan smugglers transport undocumented migrants from the restive North African state into Europe, via Italy.  Our correspondent Assed Baig posed as a migrant trying to reach the Italian island of Lampedusa in order to gain an insight into the smuggling network.

There are several places where boats leave from: Tripoli, Zawara and Misrata are the most popular departure points.  We chose to concentrate on trying to get a boat from Tripoli.

“Don’t worry, you will definitely get to Lampedusa, there is a boat leaving soon. It’s a sure thing,” said the voice on the other end of the telephone.  He went on tell me that there was a cargo ship due to sail shortly, and that I could buy my passage onto it, but I had to be quick as places were filling-up rapidly.

As I would learn later, this offer and the conditions of passage would change several times.  The smugglers use these tactics to ascertain their potential customer’s level of interest and sheer desperation, before reeling them in to embark on the treacherous journey across the Mediterranean Sea to the Italian island.

Smuggling is big money.  Charging up to $2,000 per person, and filling up a boat to 200 people can mean that smugglers can get rich fast, with little or no concern for the people that they are sending out to sea, many of whom will meet their death before they ever see Europe.  The Libyan smugglers shrewdly employ people from other nationalities in order to entice potential customers from destitute immigrant communities.  These individuals can be Somali, Chadian or Pakistani. My smuggler’s name was Kashif.  He was from Pakistan and had been in Libya for a few years; operating his lucrative smuggling business from there. He had no need to resort to making a dangerous trip to Italy unlike the migrants.

You never get to meet the smugglers until the time of departure.  Once you are picked up by the smugglers and taken to a ‘safe house’ there is no turning back.  You have to stay in the safe house until the boat is ready to leave.

In Tripoli I met Atif, a Kashmiri who had attempted the journey to Lampedusa but failed. He was kept in a safe house for five days.  I spoke to others that had stayed longer, up to fifteen days in one case.

“The smugglers check the internet for weather reports before they set off,” Atif told me.

Whilst talking with Atif, I found out that his village in Kashmir is only an hour and a half’s drive from where my family comes from.  It was a sad discovery- and one that prompted hard reflection.  My grandfather had moved to the UK, where I was born, and Atif had been born in Kashmir, where the economic hardships had forced him to leave and try and gain passage to Europe.  What if I had been born in Kashmir- would I too be in Libya risking my life to get to Europe so I could support my family back home?

Those that captain the boats often have very little experience at sea.  Sometimes the migrants are given a discount on the price for passage for steering the boat themselves. Once on the ship the smugglers point the escapees in the direction of Lampedusa and they set sail, using substandard vessels, many with motors that run out of fuel mid-ocean.

The boats that take the Somalis to Lampedusa are cheaper to pay for, but much more dangerous.  The Syrian boats are more expensive but are bigger and ‘safer’ according to Atif.  The Syrians have more money, at least more than those from Somalia, Mali, and Niger.

 “They told me it would be a big boat, but once I saw the boat I was shocked. It was so small,” Atif told me whilst sitting in the hotel he now works in.  There are many migrants working in hotels across Tripoli. They sometimes work there to save up money to be able to afford the journey to Lampedusa.

“We got lost, and the boat began to take in water.  For three hours we wandered the sea, not knowing where we were headed,” recalls Atif.

“The Libyan coast guard then found us and we were all taken to prison,” he claims.

“They didn’t beat me but they beat the blacks badly.  It was horrible.  The women were asked for sex in return for their release,” he told me, with a troubled look on his face as he recalled what he had witnessed.

 A few days later Kashif, the smuggler, contacted me again.  I told him I still wanted to go but was uncertain about going into a safe house.  He reassured me, “You don’t have to go to the safe house if you don’t want, we’ll just let you know when the boat is leaving and you can get on it then,” he said.  It seemed too good to be true.  Kashif also repeated that it would be a cargo ship and that I would be sharing it with other people from different nationalities, mainly Syrians.

The details changed by the time we had our next conversation.

“It’s a big fishing boat, we’ve had to change some things because of the troubles in Tripoli,” he told me.  Over forty people had been killed the previous day as a militia opened fire on demonstrators.  Kashif had conveniently changed the mode of transport from a cargo ship to a fishing boat.  I was not very confident that it would be a large fishing boat.

Two days later Kashif called again.  He said “do you still want to go?” in a direct and firm manner.  I told him I did.

“Look, I don’t want to lie to you, you seem like a nice guy.  The boat is leaving in the next few days, we will pick you up, and will take you to the safe house.  You won’t be able to leave until the boat is ready to go,” he told me with an air of urgency.

“Once you are in the car there is no turning back.  Even if you don’t like the boat, you’re getting on it, these Libyans will beat you senseless and throw you on that boat, but you will not be able to turn back,” he said sternly.  He had changed all the conditions.  I told him I still wanted to go but needed a day to think about it.  He told me to think quickly as the boat was leaving soon.

Feeling anxious, I put down the phone.  I could not take anything with me on the ship- no bag, only our money; mobile phones would be taken off us and only handed back when we boarded.  There were now an over-abundance of risks to consider – first off, there was no telling how long I would be at the safe house; then there was the hazard of drowning out at sea; and most troubling of all, there was the danger of being discovered as a journalist.  The smugglers do not want to risk giving up their location of departure or safe house out of fear of getting caught.  Also, once someone has seen the smugglers faces, they do not want you turning back, they are very cautious not to get caught.

I had been interviewing people all week- perhaps someone had noticed me. If one of the smugglers or fellow migrants became suspicious of me and concluded that I was either a spy or journalist, I would probably end up dead.

What’s more, I thought, if I drowned or was murdered at sea, it would be very likely that no-one would ever find out how or where I died. Thoughts of my son without a father drifted through my mind.

 “The one sending them does not care about whether they make it or not.  He just wants his money.  He wants to see them off the shore and out of sight.  He knows the chances of the migrants making it to Lampedusa are minimal,” said 35-year-old Ashraf, who has been a fisherman for over 15 years.  He told me smuggling has increased since the fall of Gaddafi.  The country’s instability has benefited criminal gangs who are capitalising on people’s desperation.

Ashraf added that he has seen boats with migrants out at sea. “The boats are always over loaded, a boat that is meant to carry 50 people, the smugglers put on 200, maybe more.”

“It’s suicide to go on those boats, most of the people never make it,” he observed.

 The boat was due to leave the next day; I had to weigh up the risks, and decide whether to go or not.  It was impossible to resist the conclusion that the danger was simply too great.

Having edged toward a final decision, I was prompted to bitter reflection: if I was an undocumented migrant fleeing the war in Syria, or endemic poverty in Somalia or Eritrea than I would not have the option of stepping back from such risks- because anything would be better than what I had left behind.  Risking my life would have seemed a viable option, even if it meant surrendering my fate to the smugglers and the sea.

That day I went out and looked out at the shores of the Mediterranean.  The waves were smashing across the rocks relentlessly.  How could a boat even leave under these conditions?  Yet as bad as they were, I knew from my experiences so far that many poor and desperate people would attempt the crossing, perhaps in even worse weather, and that some unscrupulous trafficker would make money out of it.

In the end the decision was made for me.

Anadolu Agency thought the risk and danger were far too high for me to go with the smugglers. There would be no way of knowing where I was, where I was being kept, when I was leaving and if I would make it.  Taking all these factors into account, the agency pulled me out due to safety concerns.  We do not know what happened to the boat that was scheduled to leave Tripoli.  We are not sure if they made it.

 “I’ve seen them floating out in the water, I’ve brought up bodies in my fishing nets,” Cruz, a fisherman in Tripoli, told me as I stared out at the sea, knowing that I would remain on solid ground for the rest of my time in Libya.

“I have seen bodies out at sea, men, women, and children,” he added, before leaving me with my thoughts.

Read the original article published in Anadolu Agency on 7 December 2013

A look into the lives of undocumented migrants in Libya

Anadolu Agency investigates undocumented migrants in Libya

A look into the lives of undocumented migrants in Libya

TRIPOLI

Before the uprising that ousted Libya’s long-time strongman Muammar Qaddafi, there were about one million black Africans living and working in Libya. However, during the conflict the situation deteriorated and forced many to flee the country. At the time international media outlets and human rights organisations reported cases of human rights violations against black Africans.

Rebel groups battling to topple Qaddafi have accused black Africans of supporting the regime and fighting as mercenaries for the late Libyan leader. Black Africans were not always fighting for Qaddafi while some were forced to fight, and others were wrongfully accused and ended up being imprisoned or killed at the hands of some rebel groups.

Some sub-Saharan Africans managed to leave the country during the conflict, but since the fall of the regime and a perceived change in conditions, many black Africans are now returning to Libya.

Amongst Libyans there are mixed feelings. Many hold discriminatory opinions of Africans. One business owner told me that he thought black Africans were dirty and unclean by saying, “they don’t like clean places, when I gave them a clean place to stay they made it dirty.”

Even amongst the most liberal and open-minded Libyans, discriminatory opinions are prevalent. It is a common occurrence to talk about the subject of black Africans with reference to their “differences” or how some Libyans feel that they are now like a minority in their own country in the face of immigration.

The racism these migrant workers face is only one of the horrors they encounter along the journey they take to support their families back home.

Libya has seen an increase of undocumented migrants trying to find work and some trying to reach Europe by boat. Migrants are put into different categories: regular and irregular migrants.

Regular migrants have visas and pass through official border entry posts. Irregular migrants tend to be undocumented and have no valid visa to be inside the country.

Then there are refugees and asylum seekers who may or may not come into the country through official border entries. The numbers of irregular migrants, asylum seekers and refugees are unknown at the moment.

The issue came to international attention when more than 360 migrants drowned in October this year trying to reach the Italian island of Lampedusa. Italy has asked for help from other European countries as the island of Lampedusa already has thousands of migrants at its facilities and is running over capacity.

– Waiting under bridge for work

We are waiting with a group of black Africans under a bridge in the residential neighborhood in Gargaresh in Tripoli. Cars speed past throwing dust up into the air. Their wheels sometimes spin on the dirt as they stop and then move off as the occupants look for manual labourers.

The men standing and waiting here sheltering from the sun are from all over Africa looking for work. Many of them do not have entry stamps on their passports, and some have no documents at all. They are all here to work, earn money, send it home, or save enough to pay smugglers for a long and perilous journey on a rickety boat to Italy.

Everyday John from Nigeria stands under this bridge seeking a daily job. Migrants crowd around the cars that stop, peering through the windows, as some get in and are driven away. They find work on construction sites, in homes, shops, restaurants and anywhere else they can. There is no job security here, no guaranteed pay, no minimum wage and no rights for workers. There is also another fear: the men are always looking out for the police.

There are limited police around as Libya is still in transition and the police force is not very visible or discernible from the many militias littering the country. When the police show up, these men run.

The fear is always palatable. If they are detained, it could mean they are repatriated to their home countries, but not before going through a detention centre. The detention centres are dreaded amongst these migrant workers given rumours of widespread abuse. Regardless of the challenges, all these men stand here every day indefatigably.

These men have come from Nigeria, Chad, Gambia, Mali and elsewhere. They confide in me and tell me of the lack of security. Just last week some Libyans mugged a few Nigerians.

“At night it is not safe for us here, many people have been mugged. They (Libyans) take our phones and money,” said James from Nigeria. It’s a voice of desperation. They are not the only ones who tell me about crimes committed against them, this seems a common story amongst migrants. I was told not to go out from my hotel after dark.

People have become accustomed to daily gunfire in Tripoli. Everyone seems to have a gun as no one feel safe without one, but the migrants do not have guns and there is no protection for their rights or an no one to ensure their safety.

“We are always worried, the situation is very bad at the moment,” says 24-year-old John.

His friends crowd around him as he talks to me and nod their heads in agreement. John smiles as he talks. Even when describing the most difficult aspects of his hard life here, he is smiling, speaking in English whilst gesticulating while explaining some of their challenges.

Migrants usually rent rooms or small kiosks and often share and live in over-crowded accommodations. It costs about 200 dinars ($150) a month that can sometimes mean half their salary so they share one room.

In another location I am given access to a room migrants’ employer provided them stay in. It is small; they can only sleep at the sides where they have thin mattresses laid out upon a raised platform made of breezeblock and concrete. The room is only big enough for six people to sleep, head to toes. There is one light, a plastic rug on the floor, and clothes hanging off nails on the wall. The roof looks like tin and the door is wooden. It is all they have, and not paying extra for rent will help them save money to send home or carry on their journey.

“I share a room with 10 to 15 people, it varies. I have no choice, it is what we have to do,” says Abou Bakr from Gambia, who has a wife and a two-year-old daughter in Gambia who he wants to return to.

Umar, a 24-year-old from Mali, tells me that he wants to go to Italy. “I don’t care if it is dangerous, I need to feed my family.”

Umar doesn’t have money yet, but hopes to save enough to pay smugglers to buy his seat on a boat to Lampedusa. It costs at least $1,000 to get to Lampedusa aboard a smuggler’s boat and it could take him more than six months to earn that kind of money.

“I have brothers and sisters that I have to support, that is my responsibility,” he tells me.

Migrants already face a difficult journey to get to Libya as they have to pay smugglers to cross several countries to enter Libya. The journey across the desert is especially precarious. With little food and water, migrants put their lives in the hands of smugglers. Sometimes migrants have to sleep out in the desert and there are cases where migrants have been taken to the wrong locations and been told they are in Libya. Some die in the desert when they fall off trucks, but even then the drivers do not stop.

Judging by the numbers of migrants entering Libya, many are prepared to take the risks. Osman from Gambia tells me he travelled through Senegal, Mali, Burkina Faso and then Niger to reach Libya.

“I paid about 2,000 dinars ($1,500) to get here from Gambia.

“It took me 10 days to get to Libya. It was a hard journey. We swapped vehicles several times and travelled a lot at night. I had to be careful, I did not want to fall off the vehicle and be left behind.

“I want to stay in Libya, work and then go back to my country. I miss my family. It’s not easy here,” says Osman.

The groups standing under the bridge in Tripoli are divided into their countries of origin. The Nigerians stand together, as do the Malians and Gambians and other nationalities.

The Nigerians complain to me that they sometimes do not get paid.

James says, “There is nothing we can do, they have guns, they are Libyan, and if they decide not to pay us, what are we supposed to do?”

Read the original article published in Anadolu Agency on 5 December 2013

Undocumented migrants face tough time inside Libya’s detention system

Undocumented migrants face tough time inside Libya's detention systemTRIPOLI

Since the fall of Gadhafi, African migrants mainly from Chad, Niger and Mali have been flocking to Libya hoping to get work or a boat to Italy. AA reporter Assed Baig goes to detention centres in Tripoli to meet some of them.

Armed men guard the entrance of the zoo in Tripoli, some are dressed in military fatigues, whilst others stand around smoking. Beyond the windy road lies a ‘detention centre’ run by a former militia that now works under the Interior Ministry. The area around the gates of the zoo still has some of its former lustre, designed to attract Libyans to its once scenic grounds.
The militia were initially charged with zookeeping, but as the problems in Libya multiplied, so have their responsibilities. They are now charged with dealing with migrants and comb the streets of Tripoli looking for migrants without valid visas or documentation.

Commander Said Gars Alaha sits on an old sofa placed in the shade, outside the door to the facility. A small table in front of him, he has a file and an empty cup sitting next to it. Inside, migrants are lined up against the wall. Uniformed men wearing medical facemasks inspect any documentation the migrants may have whilst asking them questions. Gars Alaha wears a blue uniform with military style black boots. He has a neatly kept short grey beard and welcomes us warmly. He is keen to point out that this is a processing facility and that migrants are not kept here for more than 72 hours.

“This is not a prison”, he points out to me.

None of the guards inside seem to be carrying guns. He tells me that he is upset at foreign journalists twisting the story and making it seem like migrants are being kept with animals.

“I am happy for you to look around, as long as you tell the truth,” says Alaha.

There are various pick-up trucks and police cars parked around the grounds, including a minibus with caged windows. I am told that this is for transporting migrants to another facility.

Inside, the migrants line up, most are Black Africans. Abdullah, the guard, inspects their passports. None of the men have a valid entry stamp. Some do not have passports. 27-year-old Fafuna Musa from Mali, tells me that he came to Libyato feed his family, “I just want to earn money and go home to my family”. This is a common story told here. Migrants are unlikely to admit that they will attempt to journey further toItaly. Most end up working in Libya trying to earn money to feed themselves and their families back home. Some save up to take the dangerous journey by boat to Italy. During Gadhafi’s regime numbers of African migrants from Libya were stemmed as Gaddafi asked for money from European countries to prevent a ‘Black Europe’. Since his fall the levels have increase as lack of security allows smugglers more freedom to operate.

The migrants look tired. Their clothes are ripped and some do not have any shoes. Most have travelled the desert to get to Libya, a journey that can take up to a month depending on where they are coming from. Some have travelled from as far-a-field as Nigeria.

There is dust and dirt all over their clothes. Some of these men work on construction sites. The youngest is 18 years old.

Fafuna looks over 50 but tells me he is only 27. I question him further, and he responds by saying, “Anna miskeen,” meaning “I’m poor” in Arabic. The guard says the story is always the same and replies, “ I know that all of you are ‘miskeen’.”

Some of the migrants are cut and are bleeding. The guard is quick to tell me that the wounds were caused when the migrants ran from the police. I ask the migrants to make sure that this is true; they confirm the guard’s version of events.

Badara is another detainee, he works in a restaurant and is using his mobile phone to call his boss. He says that his boss has his paperwork and passes the phone over to the guard so that he can speak to the restaurant owner. A look of desperation runs across his face as he hopes that his boss will be able to secure his release. Many businesses in Libya rely on migrant labour. It is cheap and as in countless other countries Libyan’s sometimes do not want to do the jobs that migrants are prepared to do.

I am led through the facility and I spot some blood on the floor. Again Abdullah is quick to point out to me where the blood has come from. They have come very aware of the negative publicity that this facility has received recently.

Outside in the courtyard Egyptians and Tunisians are queuing at a door to a small room. Their blood will be tested for any diseases, Abdullah tells me, specifically for HIV and Hepatitis.

We are then taken to one of the main detention rooms. The guard signals for the men to stand up and come to the front. I stop him; I don’t want orchestrated pictures for the benefit of the media. He opens the padlock to the iron barred room. I take pictures of young men as they sit on the floor of the room.

There are two mats on the floor and I count 12 detainees. My guide points out to me that they have two air-conditioned rooms, a toilet and bottled drinking water, but this room is not particularly clean. The men are ushered out and back through to the main hall leading to the entrance, where the get into a van to be taken to another detention facility to which we do not have access. The commander assures me that those that do not have valid visas, documentation or passports will be repatriated to their countries of origin.

Earlier this year Amnesty International said that refugees, asylum seekers and migrants were being held in ‘deplorable conditions’ in Libya. The human rights organisation visited seven “holding centres” in April and May this year. Amnesty international said they found “evidence of ill-treatment, in some cases amounting to torture”. The organisation also said that many foreign nationals were being held in Libya and were subjected to “arbitrary arrests and held for long periods in deplorable conditions at immigration detention facilities described by the Libyan authorities as “holding centres”, with no immediate prospect of release or redress in sight.”

We have had no problem accessing this facility, but there are others detention centres and prisons that we do not have access to. We spoke to a former prisoner of a facility in Khums to the east of Tripoli. He alleged that routine beatings and sexual assault were a common practice. One detainee told Anadolu, on condition of anonymity, that women were forced to have sex with guards in exchange for their release.

However, in this detention centre the guards and commander are keen to point out what they consider to be good treatment of the detainees. We did not see any of the guards shout or use force whilst we were there.

“They eat what we eat,” Gars tells me, referring to the sandwiches and they ate. “We have women to take care of and check the women. We do not treat people badly,” he adds.

We also visited a detention facility in Sabha, the largest city in the south of the country and usually the first city that migrants arrive in when enteringLibya. Although we were allowed on to the facility, we were not permitted to see where the detainees were being kept. According to the Deputy Commander Al-Medani Muhammed Al-Zarouq there are 600 undocumented migrants being kept at the facility. A local resident of the city who has seen the facilities told me they were very dirty and difficult to enter because of the smell. This could be why I was refused entry to see the migrant’s living conditions, 600 people enclosed in a small building, not allowed to leave, in the hot conditions of Libya, is bound to result in terrible conditions. There was no mention of air-conditioning at the Sabha facility.

I was told that the migrants are divided into nationalities and that the majority of are from Niger, Chad and Mali.

“We cannot send some migrants back to their countries, like those from Somalia and Eriteria, as they are refugees,” says Al-Zarouq.

The undocumented migrants from Niger are sent back to their country in trucks, paid for by the interior ministry he tells me. I am shown the kitchen of the facility, but am not permitted to take any pictures or speak to the migrants working there. It seems clean. There are crates full of freshly cooked packed lunches. Al-Zarouq opens one for me, pointing out that he, the guards, and the detainees all eat the same food. Each little box has macaroni and a piece of chicken in it, and I can still see the steam rising from the food. The rest of the facility seems to be undergoing some renovation. There are two armed guards standing around, the majority of whom are unarmed.

There are many detention centres and prisons spread across Libya. The number of detainees is unknown at the moment as numbers fluctuate as people are released, repatriated or transferred to other facilities. Undocumented migrants that are captured face a long detention, repatriation and in some cases physical abuse. The future of Libya’s prisons and detention centres is uncertain until the government manages to bring everything under control and conform to international standards of transparency and access.

As I leave the detention centre in Tripoli I can see some of the migrants praying their noon prayer. They sit on the prayer mats long after their Libyan counterparts have finished praying. Their hands are raised in supplication towards the sky. Their heads tipped down like wilted flowers, they pray for relief, for a way out of this detention centre, for their loved ones at home, and for a miracle.

Malala Yousafzai and the White Saviour Complex

When Malala Yusufzai was shot in the head by Taliban gunmen simply because she wanted to gain an education it sent shockwaves around the world.

Straight away the Western media took up the issue. Western politicians spoke out and soon she found herself in the UK. The way in which the West reacted did make me question the reasons and motives behind why Malala’s case was taken up and not so many others.

There is no justifying the brutal actions of the Taliban or the denial of the universal right to education, however there is a deeper more historic narrative that is taking place here.

This is a story of a native girl being saved by the white man. Flown to the UK, the Western world can feel good about itself as they save the native woman from the savage men of her home nation. It is a historic racist narrative that has been institutionalised. Journalists and politicians were falling over themselves to report and comment on the case. The story of an innocent brown child that was shot by savages for demanding an education and along comes the knight in shining armour to save her.

The actions of the West, the bombings, the occupations the wars all seem justified now, “see, we told you, this is why we intervene to save the natives.”

The truth is that there are hundreds and thousands of other Malalas. They come from Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan and other places in the world. Many are victims of the West, but we conveniently forget about those as Western journalists and politicians fall over themselves to appease their white-middle class guilt also known as the white man’s burden.

Gordon Brown stood at the UN and spoke words in support for Malala, yet he is the very same Gordon Brown that voted for the war in Iraq that not only robbed people of their education but of their lives. The same journalists that failed to question or report on the Western wars in an intelligible manner now sing the praises of the West as they back Malala and her campaign without putting it in context of the war in Afghanistan and the destabalisation of the region thanks to the Western occupation of Afghanistan.

Malala’s message is true, it is profound, it is something the world needs to take note of; education is a right of every child, but Malala has been used as a tool by the West. It allows countries like Britain to hide their sins in Afghanistan and Iraq. It allows journalists to report a feel good story whilst they neglect so many others, like the American drone strikes that terrorise men, women and children in Pakistan’s border regions.

The current narrative continues the demonization of the non-white Muslim man. Painting him as a savage, someone beyond negotiating with, beyond engaging with, the only way to deal with this kind of savage is to wage war, occupy and use drones against them. NATO is bombing to save girls like Malala is the message here.

Historically the West has always used women to justify the actions of war mongering men. It is in the imagery, it is in art, in education, it is even prevalent in Western human rights organisations, Amnesty International’s poster campaign coinciding with the NATO summit in New York encouraged NATO to ‘keep the progress going!’ in Afghanistan.

Shazia Ramzan and Kainat Riaz were also shot along with Malala, the media and politicians seem to have forgotten about them. Abeer Qassim Hamza al-Janabi – how many of the Western politicians and journalists know about this name? She was the 14-year-old girl gang raped by five US soldiers, then her and her family, including her six-year-old sister were murdered. There are no days named after her, no mentions of her at the UN, and we don’t see Gordon Brown pledging his name to her cause.

I support Malala, I support the right to education for all, I just cannot stand the hypocrisy of Western politicians and media as they pick and choose, congratulating themselves for something that they have caused. Malala is the good native, she does not criticise the West, she does not talk about the drone strikes, she is the perfect candidate for the white man to relieve his burden and save the native.

The Western savior complex has hijacked Malala’s message. The West has killed more girls than the Taliban have. The West has denied more girls an education via their missiles than the Taliban has by their bullets. The West has done more against education around the world than extremists could ever dream of. So, please, spare us the self-righteous and self-congratulatory message that is nothing more than propaganda that tells us that the West drops bombs to save girls like Malala.

Suspected Nail Bomb at Mosque in Tipton

Suspected Nail Bomb at Mosque in Tipton Police are treating a blast near a mosque in Tipton, West Midlands, as a terrorist incident.

The blast near the Kanz-ul-Iman took place around 1:00 pm and police are currently at the scene.

Residents reported finding debris in their gardens including nails.

One resident, wishing not to be named said, “My house is about 40 yards away from the mosque.”

“I saw the cloud of smoke after the extremely loud bang.”

“The backdoor to the living room was open when the explosion happened, a nail landed inside our living room.”

The Friday prayers at the mosque were moved back because of the Muslim holy month of Ramadhan, where Muslims refrain from food and water during daylight hours.  The mosque would have been full during Friday prayers but people had not begun to arrive at the time of the blast.

Asked if they saw anything suspicious leading up to the explosion the resident told me “ I saw three young white men in their mid 20’s walking away from the mosque.”

Suspected Nail Bomb at Mosque in Tipton“They were well kept, were wearing sunglasses and shorts, they looked suspicious because they were peering into the houses as they walked past”

“They just looked out of place.” She added

Local councillor, Richard Johnson said on his twitter, “Thankfully no-one was hurt in suspected Tipton nail bomb blast near mosque.

The explosion is reported to have taken place in the Mosque car park.  Surrounding roads remain closed off in what police say is a ‘precautionary measure’.  Some residents have also been evacuated from their homes as police forensic teams are on the scene investigating the incident.

Suspected Nail Bomb at Mosque in Tipton
Police spokesman Gareth Cann, told media that the Police have called in the army to make sure the area is safe adding “this is possibly an act of terrorism.” He cited a number of factors, including the explosion, location and the fact that police discovered debris in the surrounding area.

Woolwich and the Muslim response

Woolwich and Muslim responseThe murder in Woolwich has shocked everyone, no one was prepared for such a killing on the streets of the UK.  The response has been of disgust and condemnation.  This incident has raised some questions that politicians and the mainstream media have conveniently dodged.   I am disgusted and appalled by what has taken place, but why should I have to condemn or apologise for such a crime, it had nothing to do with me.

Why is it that Muslims and Muslim organisations are expected to condemn and distance themselves from the actions of two individuals?  Why is it that Muslim organisations do not even need to be prompted to condemn; they are readily condemning actions that have nothing to do with them.  There has been no attempt by Muslim organisations to discuss the causes of the attack, no attempt to question the mainstream media narrative that imposes labels on Muslims.

I was born and brought up in a majority Muslim area of Birmingham.  I have travelled the country and the world.  I have come across thousands of Muslims, spoken, debated and challenged opinions.  Radicalisation is not a religious problem, it is a problem of society, and specifically, in this case, British society.

Muslim leaders have been scared into silence.  Prevent officers visiting mosques and community leaders frighten them.  They are told that if Muslims display any political opinions outside the mainstream then they are extremists, that if they do not inform on them, that their bank accounts can be frozen, mosques closed and they could face prison.   Muslims are afraid.  Muslim organisations and leaders are subservient to the state, scared to mention foreign policy as a radicalising factor just in case they are harangued for justifying the murder.  It has got to such a state that we do not even realise that our minds have been conditioned through years of media misrepresentation and widespread Islamophobia.  Questioning the reason for a murder does not mean condoning or justifying it.  Condemning something that has nothing to do with you feeds into the narrative that this is a Muslim problem, that this is something that the Muslim community are responsible for, at least in part.

In turn so-called Muslim leaders stifled debate and discussion in mosques, too afraid to discuss anything political.  For too long they have played a subservient role to the state, asking for a seat at the table and hoping for crumbs to be passed to them.  I have not met a Muslim that has condoned the actions in Woolwich, but let’s not ignore what radicalises.  British foreign policy radicalises, double standards radicalise, making Muslim youngsters feel like their opinions are not legitimate radicalises, stifling debate and discussion radicalises, not giving people a conduit to vent their opinions and frustrations radicalises, a lack of identity in Britain radicalises, we are either extremists or moderates.

We are told that Muslims are equal citizens in this country but the reality is something very different.  If we say we don’t drink, we are labelled anti-social or not willing to integrate, if we drink we are labelled moderate, if a Muslim wears a hijab, she is oppressed, if she doesn’t she is liberated, if we express an opinion outside of the mainstream narrative, we are angry, if we join a mainstream political party we are passionate, if we sing the praises of the British establishment we are liberals, if we object to foreign policy we are extremists or Islamists.  I for one am fed up of this apologetic and subservient tone.  I have nothing to apologise for, I should not be asked to condemn the actions of two men that had nothing to do with me just as a white man should not be asked to condemn the murders committed by Anders Brevik or for the violent actions of the English Defence League.

Have Muslims not proved their worth to this country?  Muslims have bled for this country during WWI and WWII, they have fought for Empire, they have served as colonial subjects, they have waved the flags, sang the anthems and anglicised their names –Mo and Ed.  But still we are not accepted; we still hear ‘Muslim appearance’ in the mainstream media, which basically means non-white, not one of us.

I am privileged, I went to university, I had an abundance of left-wing white friends that never questioned my opinions because of my religion or ethnicity, that accepted me as an equal, and made me feel that I had a place in society, we shared our politics as well as our battles.

My parents still fear that I will be arrested for writing and expressing an opinion as a journalist.  I have been inundated with calls since the attack from Muslims that are afraid of a backlash, one even asked me if there would be ethnic cleansing.  I told them not to be afraid because I had faith in the British people to see through the fog that politicians and mainstream media perpetuate.

Why is it that Joe Glenton can say that foreign policy is a radicalising factor but our so-called Muslim leaders tiptoe around the issue?  Why is it that George Eaton can say that Muslims should not have to distance themselves from the attacks, but our so-called leaders are falling over themselves to do it?  Why is it that Glenn Greenwald can question whether the attack is terrorism, but my fellow brothers and sisters are afraid to do the same?

I was born here, I am British, I am standing in the tradition that says that my opinion is just as valid as anyone else’s, that I have a right to object to the hypocritical treatment vented out to Muslims without being accused of condoning or justifying such attacks.   There are Muslims that will disagree with me, that is fine, we must understand that we are not a homogenous group, Anjum Choudry and his motley crew do not represent me, neither do the Muslim Council of Britain with their 400 affiliated mosques run by old men in committees.   Unfortunately non-Muslims in the public sphere represent my views more than our so-called Muslim leaders.

To be ‘leaders’, senior Muslim figures must lead.  Whilst politicians and the media carry on scapegoating Muslims, a true community leadership must face up to the reality of foreign policy and suppression of Muslim communities over the last decade, and call it out for what it is.

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