Refugee Camp

For safety reason I’m not going to mention the name of the camp or where it is, I don’t think you can ever be too careful : ) as recent experience has taught me!

Visiting the camp was a bit of juxtaposition of feelings; on one hand it was extremely insightful to get a rare glimpse into the plight of a refugee but it was devastating to see first-hand human beings living with no sense of basic human freedoms.

The Camp Director, although happy to talk to us, painted a picture of a happy secure place where issues are quickly resolved. Maybe it’s cynicism on my part, but it was difficult to believe. He was guarded with the information he gave us, although our questions were answered with a smile, albeit unspecific answers.

However, our tour of the camp did change some of my initial misgivings. Unlike the majority of refugee camps I’ve read about, seen on the television etc. this camp was spacious (as much as rows of UNHCR tents can be) and the facilities seemed adequate. We were given a tour of the new toilets, the school and the medical clinic. Teaches are residents who have previously taught in their home country and are given an ‘allowance,’ for their work. The children are obviously taught in their mother tongue, but surprisingly are not given any lessons in the local languages of the country they are seeking asylum in. As the camp aims to become a permanent home (with proper housing) for many of the residents I found this a little surprising. Despite having no means of earning money or limited chances of leaving the camp, we did see a few small stores (selling food, clothing etc.). When questioned as to where the supplies come from, our guide just laughed and shrugged, explaining that sometimes things just get smuggled in.

Despite the shiny exterior and positivity of those we talked too, it is somewhat frightening to see people so deprived of their freedom – a basic human right. Residents are not allowed to leave the camp unless they have prior permission, and even then have to explain where they are going (although clearly this is easy to manipulate). Our guide told us he had no idea what had happened to his family and he did not ever want to go home. He openly talked with us and told us he wanted to urge people to learn from the situation in his home country and to strive for safe elections.

The residents are forbidden from expressing any political preferences and there are no religious services of any kind. Presumably this is to stop fighting between what is a large group of people from dozens of different ethnic and tribal groups.

It was definitely a sobering experience and one which I think others need to see, if only to draw more attention to what is a devastating way to live.

Happy New Year!

Hello from Cape Coast! I have been here nearly a week and although I am enjoying the more relaxed way of life here (my editor doesn’t really run a tight ship) I miss Accra and the people there. I have a lovely little room here though, and it’s pretty much in the centre of town which is convenient. The past few weeks have been a little surreal and not exactly a fun time for me, but I’m hoping the New Year can only bring good things.

I spent the New Year weekend at a gorgeous beach lodge in Elmina, a coastal town around 3 hours from Accra. I was there with some lovely ladies and spent two days relaxing on a beautiful beach, swimming in a near-by hotel pool, drinking cocktails and eating some yummy food. I don’t think fellow guests will ever forget our incredible (I’m sure it was) rendition of Aerosmith’s I don’t Want to Miss a Thing at around 3 am (thanks Jemma, Line, Eline, Milena, Chrisi, Emily, Sasha, Tae).

 A few on us decided to go horse-riding on the beach which was a lot of fun, although not exactly comfortable in shorts and flip-flops! However we got to canter along the shore (or run, as our guide loved to say) and ride along what is perhaps one of the most breathtakingly beautiful beaches in world.

Unfortunately my last few weeks at The Graphic were pretty quiet. Apparently media events don’t really happen in January, so I had a lot of free time to write my own stories and find ‘exclusives,’ no easy feat when you have a severe lack of contacts. I was sad to leave though; I’ve made some lovely friends there and had some amazing opportunities which I am extremely grateful for. Hearing Leymah Gbowee speak was a definite highlight.  I don’t think I will forgot some of more ‘colourful’ conversations I’ve had with fellow journalists, including one debate about ‘Gaddafi the Hero,’ and the many In depth discussions about religion and the role of women in a marriage (which I don’t want to get into here, I fear I will get into a lot of trouble!).

I do not understand men and seem to be in a permanent stare of confusion when it comes to such affairs. Any attempt to discuss issues that seem to be happening time and time again are rebuffed because if it’s in the past what is the point in talking about it? Some wisdom would be good please! Sometimes I just think it’s too much of an effort, and sadly I don’t think that should be the case.

To all the victims of the tragic accident in Senya Beraku on 27-12-10, may you rest in peace.