REFUGEE CRISIS: 'A camp that should shame all of Europe'

Though we’d heard the stories, and watched the videos beforehand, nothing could have prepared us for when we got to Dunkirk.

Driving past in order to find somewhere nearby to park our vehicles it hit us how rapidly the camp had expanded since our last visit in September.

It was now overflowing with tents.

There was also a strong police presence. This hadn’t been the case last time we were there. 

The police were hostile and went out of their way to make things difficult for us, blocking us from entering even after we told them we were just there to deliver food and clothes.

Their role was clearly to deter aid workers from coming out to help.
We weren’t ready to give up though, many of us snuck into the camp at every chance we got, through gaps in the barbed wire, taking anything we could carry with us.

When told to wear surgical gloves under our normal gloves, and knee high wellies I’d felt like it was a slight exaggeration.

But the reality soon proved otherwise.

The endless rows of tents looked as though they were floating on swamps of mud and sewage, littered with abandoned shoes, toys and dead rats. 

We quickly figured out not to stand still for too long, if we did our feet would begin to sink and the mud became like clay around our wellies, making it almost impossible to move.

Walking around the tents we met single mothers with very young children, too afraid to leave their tents, heavily pregnant women, people with missing limbs and a man with a deep scar across his chest caused by a bomb blast in Iraq.

Some of them invited us inside, desperately trying to make the place as clean and comfortable as possible for us.

In one of the tents a toddler came running towards me, as if to kiss me, I held out my hands to stop him, without thinking, we’d been warned not to have any skin to skin contact with anyone as 90% of the residents had scabies. 

Guilt overtook me when I realised what I’d done. Everyone we met had one story in common, they’d either lived in the UK in the past or had family and friends residing there. 

One family of a mother and her three daughters said they were in the camp hoping to get to the UK to join the girls’ father.

I met two beautiful children, Miran, 13 and his sister Maria, 9. 
They were bright and very cheeky kids, running around the camp, covered in mud shouting “Hello my friend” to everyone they passed. 
Miran was an expert in football, naming his favourite players and showing off his skills.

But when a photographer on our team asked him for an interview, he suddenly became extremely reserved, when asked about the home he had left behind and why he had come here, he stopped speaking English and gave quiet responses in Kurdish.

Someone asked him whether he liked the camp. The question clearly angered him, he threw the question back at us, ‘do you like it? Would you live here?’

I lowered my head in shame, ‘no’, I responded. ‘Well why do you ask me if I like it?’ Anger in his eyes. He picked up our photographer’s tripod, held it as though it was a gun and began shooting around the camp.

The scene was heart-breaking. Miran told me he had family living in London. ‘I love London’, he said, ‘I want to go there, I don’t want to stay here’.

I hope his wish comes true. I hope he’s able to reach his destination and reach his full potential in life. This child could do and become anything he sets his mind to, but instead his life is being wasted away in a rat infested sewer.

The world turns a blind eye, oblivious to this hell on earth and its residents.

Thank You’s
The team from Drive 4 Justice would like to thank every business and individual who donated to this worthwhile cause. Over £10,000 was distributed through aid. More than 60 volunteers helped to raise the funds and collected good to take to Dunkirk. Individuals paid for their own expenses on this visit and we are thankful for their efforts.