“Every day when I arrive in Moria (a refugee camp in Lesbos Island, Greece), it never fails to amaze me how bad the situation is. It is a fire so big, the volunteers cannot fight the enormous amount of need for every single person arriving. The thousands stuck from the ferry strike, some of them have been here for 5 days and are now also sitting out the delays that have caused their ferry tickets to backlog.
Every night we go outside of the compound to try and find the vulnerable families to bring inside. But the heartbreaking thing is that there isn't enough space inside for every single family. And the sad truth is also that it isn't just the families who are vulnerable cases, every person there is vulnerable, even the young men. So many people are sleeping outside in the cold, with one dirty blanket for their whole family, or sometimes no blanket at all.
The thing that keeps me going are the people I meet. Their stories, their unbelievably sad stories. The plight of the Afghans who are so overlooked in the world. I remember reading the news last year about troops pulling out of Afghanistan because the situation had…show more content… It was a mother with seven girls and one teenage son. The father had died. The girls were so sweet, they helped us make tea for the new arrivals and helped cleaning until late at night. They spoke only a little bit of English, but we could tell how gentle their hearts were and how vulnerable. We found out that they were stuck on the island with no money. That evening we devised a plan to see if we could help them cross Europe in a less cruel way. My mother contacted a human rights lawyer, we bought them hairbrushes and clean socks and underwear, and we planned on paying for their journey to Athens. When we arrived the next morning they had vanished. We looked for them in the port but they were nowhere to be seen. I wonder where they are now and if they are
