Poetry from a Refugee Camp

'They will never see you as a human being, just a creature they threaten with deportation'

On the edges of Europe, in a small town 20KM from the FYROM border lies a gas station. This station, which two months ago was simply a place to refuel and get a coffee, is now ‘home’ to over 2000 people fleeing conflict. EKO has become a village all its own, complete with community spaces, hairdressers, bakeries, shops, a tea tent and takeaway food. The people living here have built communities together, and have extended their love and hospitality to include the large number of volunteers working to provide relief and support.

The complexity of life here is impossible to grasp. The large majority of the people living at this informal camp made the treacherous journey from Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq to Europe when the borders surrounding Greece were still open. Almost two months ago, however, the last remaining border to the rest of Europe closed, leaving 54 000+ refugees stranded. Greece has been struggling immensely to respond effectively to this crisis, and as a result the refugees are forced to stay in shamefully inadequate conditions. Worse than this, however, is the lack of information about what the next step in the asylum process will be, and how long this will take. The psychological impact of this on people who have seen and experienced the worst of humanity, is not acknowledged nearly enough.


Despite these unimaginable hardships, the people staying at EKO are some of the kindest, most generous and inspiring people I have ever met. The politics and plethora of excuses that dominate conversations about the ‘refugee crisis’ fall away when you look into the eyes of not refugees, but people. The ‘crisis’ component lies in the fact that babies are being born in tents, that terminally ill people aren’t getting treatment, that parents cannot reassure their children that this will all be over soon. The ‘crisis’ lies in the lack of compassion. It lies in the fact that the world is allowing people to exist without hope.

This poem was written by Ahmed Yonso, one of many young people living at EKO. Ahmed is a 28 year old Literature student from Daraa, Syria. He spends every day working as a translator for the medical teams working at EKO and in the surrounding areas. Ahmed arrived at EKO 44 days ago. He fled Syria on the 7th of January 2016.

EKO station

If you are in EKO station

You will see the real dehumanisation

You don’t have the right to have

to love, to get small inspiration

You are just a number

For another greedy nation

They will never see you as a human being

Just a creature they threaten with deportation

I wish that I was dead in Syria

Rather than be in this situation

I am not sure what you can call this treatment from the best civilisation


Despite this all

We will not break down

We are the strongest combination

To cross the mountains

The desert the borders

To make the sea our last destination

To be Syrian that means to suffer in every way

In your imagination

Laura Naude

Laura is originally from South Africa and recently graduated with a master's degree in conflict, security and development from King’s College London. She is particularly passionate about refugee issues, human rights and humanitarian assistance. Previous experience includes Amnesty International and various organisations in the UK and South Africa. Her skills include photography, journalism, advocacy, social media, international relations and research. Laura is currently working for Lighthouse Relief, a refugee organisation in the Idomeni area in Greece. She can be reached at [email protected] or through LinkedIn.
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Words In The Bucket is a team of global citizens with the common goal of raising awareness and information about issues related to human rights protection, social inclusion, development and environment.

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