From the Libyan borders with love... Part 1

While I was on my way from Cairo to Libya, I was remembering my good old youth days spent in Benghazi. I have many happy memories from when I studied at the Secondary School there between 1967 and 1968. This was my first visit to the country since 1972 and I felt saddened by the fact I couldn’t visit it in happier circumstances.

When we arrived at the border, in Salum, an immigration officer told me: “We allowed more than 200,000 people afraid for their lives to enter Egypt”. Still, I saw that thousands upon thousands of Bangladeshi, Filipino, Somali and others were sleeping on concrete floors in immigration halls and even on the roads. Having spoken to a few of them, I found out they were expatriate workers, all trying to get to their homes. The temperature outside was 0 degrees centigrade.

It was like a living, walking, breathing nightmare, with very little chance of escape. The internet and telephone communications were unreliable, so people couldn’t get in touch with loved ones to tell them they’re safe.

I ran across some sub-Saharan workers, afraid for their lives, as they could be mistaken to be mercenaries hired by the government.

To be continued...