In this blog I’m uploading working materials and script for the film, that I’m currently working on. In my project I aim to portray migrants situations in a different levels of desperation, that immigrants go trough. In this particular case I would like to emphasize on asylum seekers in Holland. As a red line for the script I would like to use the personal story of a friend Elvis.
It’s intense, dramatic journey, but also, I believe his story brings out message of hope and encouragement. Because, even appear in a situation without documents, any rights, any friends, he was able to find an inner straight to go trough it and find a way out. His story is still continued, his documents are now in a high court, that why in my story he is in under a different name, and his face will not appear in the movie.
HAW IT’S ALL STARTED
Since early 2002 Kenya has been facing arising growth of accult sect group called Mungiki, which comes from the biggest tribe in Kenya known as Kikuyu.The so called Mungiki is harassing other small tribes and also causing unnecessary violence in the country.
BBC news about Kenya events (recorded at Elvis house )
I had a problem with Mungiki back in 2007 and this led to several attacks, that made me to flee my country due to insecurity reasons. Lack of safety in my country led me to flee with aid of a friend to Turkey. While in Turkey I came across lots of immigrants with different reasons from war- zone areas – threats, attacks… So I was not alone in the struggle for safety.
This is where my journey started as a refugee. I got admitted well and care was OK. But after three weeks I was told that I was denied status in the Netherlands and I had 28 days to leave the country.
I got transferred from Ter Apel to Drachten refugee camp to stay for 28 days to evacuate the country. My lawyer made an appeal and within two weeks I was in court and again I lost the case, so I had no option either to leave the camp or police came for me when the 28 days are finished!!
I was homeless and stranded, when a friend gave me a number to call a refugee organization. I had no choice, but to start my journey to Eindhoven.
I got lost many times…Changing different trains and this made me reach Eindhoven at night, because it was my fist time in Holland and everything was looked new and strange…
CHATPER III / EINDHOVEN
Homeless and helpless I met three white people chatting.
I approached them and asked if they knew a place, where I could sleep for a night before I got to the refugee organization next day. They took me to a homeless shelter near Eindhoven station, but I was denied to stay, because I was illegal. I got tired …but one of the man took me to his place.
I stayed at his place for a night and the next day my journey continued. I was on the streets looking for the organization, when I met a black boy from Siera Leone and talked to him and also he was just a refugee, like me. He knew where the organization was. He took me and he left me there.
It was a Catholic organization.
… I stayed outside the church, while they were closing. I told they will feel pity and be merciful and help. But they passed as if they did not see anything. I was frustrated, hungry and tired with life.
… I started walking without direction aimlessly and I saw a black man. I followed him and talked to him. He was happy to see me. He spoke my language Kiswahili and he was from Somali. He told me I should not worry at all – he can accommodate me for a night. It was a good news for me. … So he said he wanted only 20 beers… ‘O, my God!’- It was to much for me to afford’. He said he drinks cheap beer and was only 5 euros. I said ‘No problem’. I bought for him beer, tough I was broke. I went to his house – it was terrible. Everything was cut (it was a winter) – no heater, no gas – so I take a cold shower and felt fresh.
The next day the Somali man took me to other organization to look for a help, but still I did not get any help, so he told me that he was tired and he could not help me no more. I was on the street again… lucky I met the Siera Leone boy I met before. I told that I stranded, so he gave me a number to call in Amsterdam.
Not enough money for a ticket to go to Amsterdam…
I called the number and somebody picked… He was a man…
I told him, that my procedure as refugee was finished and I was homeless… He said, it was realy difficult , but good enough he asked me if I could go the next day at 11 o’clock. I said ‘Yes’
So I need money to go to Amsterdam.
I had no idea, but I prayed, that God guide me to go without ticket. … It was risky, if they catch me – I might go to prison… I was afraid… But had no option rather than risk.
I have never been to Amsterdam– I was excited, same time worried… Because I might go and still no help then. This means my life ends.. But I had hope still..
I spent a night at the place of a black man, who was mad and scary. People could go away from him, but the man came near to me and asked, where I came from. I said ‘Kenya’… He said – he is from Senegal… and he had lived in Holland for 18 years and he was homeless… I was surprised people think, that this man was mad, but still he had sense. His name was Samba. While with him people thought, that I was also mad.
Nobody was talking to him… So it was like a two mad man… I said to him, that I was a refugee and he felt pity for me, because he was a refugee before and his life was terrible. He said to me -‘… indeed only to pray to God…’ because it’s difficult to be a refugee in the Netherlands with out documents. That was an encouragement.
Chapter IV/ Train
Next morning I went to the train station to go to Amsterdam.
While the train control for a ticket start, I went to hide in the toilet for a few minutes… When I came out – the man was standing and ask for a ticket. I told him, that I was homeless and tired. He told me next station – Breda- should come out or else he will make a fine. So I had to come out or else he will make a fine.
I have to come out and aboard another train. Finally, I was in Amsterdam.
Chapter V/ Amsterdam
WaW!! Big city!
Where do I start from? I spot a black boy at the Central Station. I asked him a direction to the refugee organization called ‘Open Deur’. Lucky, he was a refugee out procedure too. He directs me, actually, – he took me there. 11 o’clock I reach the place and my name was called. I inter inside. I met a man, who was a pastor. He reads my file and said: ‘ We can not help you’ I was: ‘ Even to come her was a risk, I did not pay a train ticket. What do I do? ‘