Antonis’ Story, Greece

Photo by UNHCR/H. J. Davies/2005

Antonis lived in Sudan until the end of the 1980s. He was born to a wealthy and respectable family. He had studied International Relations at the University of Khartoum and was involved in politics. However, another bloody coup erupted in the country. All who opposed the regime were persecuted. “Antonis”, after refusing the offer to participate in the new government, was arrested and tortured in prison. He was lucky, because he was wealthy and was able to buy his escape.

Together with a group of refugees they crossed into Egypt, and after many hardships he managed to reach Athens. With the help of some intermediaries, he found work on the island of Zante. On his way to Zante by bus, he was stopped for inspection and wasn’t released until the bus was already gone. After many hours of walking, he finally found a way to reach the island and started working immediately in a place with industrial laundries.

Antonis, which was the Greek name given to him by the islanders, spoke three languages which helped him a lot at his work. He learned quickly how to operate the industrial washing machines. That is where I met him, we became friends and he told me his whole life story, which could fill a 500-page book, even though he was only 40 years old.

He liked Greece; he admired it because of its history and its culture. He did not have any problems with the locals. On the contrary, everyone loved him and appreciated him because he was active, hardworking and highly educated.

Within six months he had learned to speak Greek almost perfectly. He always got around on a bicycle, he lived in a small room that had been given to him by his bosses and dreamed of one day returning home and helping his country throw off the yoke of dictatorship.

The years passed, I left the island and lost contact with “Antonis”. I asked and was told that after two years he had also left Zante, towards an unknown destination. We may not realize it sometimes, but our country represents a safe haven for many people around us and we have to respect that.

*I met Antonis on the island of Zante, Greece, in the summer of 1990. Since then I have lost contact with him.

Text by Dionisis Margaris/2014

http://stories.unhcr.org/antonis-story-greece-p29841.html