Refugee Voices
“My brain is damaged, I can’t think well anymore”
Arash and his friends have been abused in this wicked political game for over 50 days - all because they dared to dream of an average life in freedom.
I have been talking to Arash*, a young Iranian man, for a long time. His English is excellent. The first time we had a proper conversation was while he and his friends were still in Kütahiye, one of many Turkish deportation prisons. I had asked him if he was interested in giving an interview to one of the journalists requesting one.
“I want to talk with you, and with a journalist. But I just have nothing now. No money, no home, no nothing. Let me wrap my head around that. I might not be able to talk for days. Let me rest some days and after that, I will tell you everything. We were in the jungle at Pazarkule for 30 days, in the cold, in the mud, day and night. Then 15 days in quarantine in Osmaniye, after that nine days in the deportation prisons in Çanakkale and now Kütahiye. I’m so so tired. Today they asked us 'where do you want to go?' We said Eskişehir because this is what it says on the papers they gave us. We will see what happens.
For now, all I can say is this: we are humans too. I have so many things I can tell you, but I need to rest my brain. It is damaged now. I can’t think well anymore, I don’t know why.
We are just normal people with dreams of going to Europe. In this group now, we are musicians, DJs, game streamers. We should not be stuck in this prison in Turkey. We just want to live a normal life in freedom in Europe."
Arash and his friend have since been dropped in Eskişehir, like so many others just left on the streets to fend for themselves. Yesterday he texted me:
“I am ready for an interview now, but we live in the streets now. We have nothing now. No food, no money, no warm clothes, everybody is scared of us because our clothes are really dirty. We are not criminals, we are not poor, we were just born in a bad country.”
He and his friend have a place to stay at for now, but nobody knows what their future will hold.
*name changed for safety reasons
I have been talking to Arash*, a young Iranian man, for a long time. His English is excellent. The first time we had a proper conversation was while he and his friends were still in Kütahiye, one of many Turkish deportation prisons. I had asked him if he was interested in giving an interview to one of the journalists requesting one.
“I want to talk with you, and with a journalist. But I just have nothing now. No money, no home, no nothing. Let me wrap my head around that. I might not be able to talk for days. Let me rest some days and after that, I will tell you everything. We were in the jungle at Pazarkule for 30 days, in the cold, in the mud, day and night. Then 15 days in quarantine in Osmaniye, after that nine days in the deportation prisons in Çanakkale and now Kütahiye. I’m so so tired. Today they asked us 'where do you want to go?' We said Eskişehir because this is what it says on the papers they gave us. We will see what happens.
For now, all I can say is this: we are humans too. I have so many things I can tell you, but I need to rest my brain. It is damaged now. I can’t think well anymore, I don’t know why.
We are just normal people with dreams of going to Europe. In this group now, we are musicians, DJs, game streamers. We should not be stuck in this prison in Turkey. We just want to live a normal life in freedom in Europe."
Arash and his friend have since been dropped in Eskişehir, like so many others just left on the streets to fend for themselves. Yesterday he texted me:
“I am ready for an interview now, but we live in the streets now. We have nothing now. No food, no money, no warm clothes, everybody is scared of us because our clothes are really dirty. We are not criminals, we are not poor, we were just born in a bad country.”
He and his friend have a place to stay at for now, but nobody knows what their future will hold.
*name changed for safety reasons
