There are times when a person is so overcome by helpless despair that he becomes lost within himself. Ahmed Alhashimi, a proud man, looks at the small coffin, wrings his hands, looks at the ground and cries.
Inside the shiny white coffin is the body of his daughter, Sara. Watched by a small crowd of family, charity workers, well-meaning locals and even municipal officials, her coffin is lowered into a grave.
Then, for 10 or 15 minutes, a group of mourners work hard to use shovels, and even their bare hands, to fill the grave with dirt.
The mound is searched, a wooden marker placed in place, with her name engraved on it, and flowers are placed on the grave along with flowers, photos and – overwhelmingly – a favorite soft toy.
Watched by a small crowd of family, charity workers, well-meaning locals and even municipal officials, Sara’s coffin was lowered into a grave.
Sara was just seven years old when she died a fortnight ago, crushed in a terribly overcrowded migrant boat that left the coast with more than 100 people on board.
Four other people died that day as well. But it is the image of Sara – young, innocent and vulnerable – that endures. The death of a child is scary for anyone. For his family, it is devastating.
They want to remember her, celebrate and mourn. And so it is that, as we stand near the morgue where his daughter’s body rests, Ahmed really wants to talk to me.
Sara’s father, Ahmed Alhashimi
He invites us to spend the day with him, traveling to the Lille morgue, where prayers are held, and then to his burial.
“Despite all the sadness and suffering, these final scenes of her life are ones I will never forget,” he tells me with glassy eyes.
“When she was taken from the boat, those scenes I will never forget for the rest of my life.
“I lost my daughter. Every father who has a daughter, who knows the love one receives from a daughter, can imagine the feeling he would suffer if he lost his daughter. real.”
‘She was like a butterfly, like a bird, she was everything to us’, said Sara’s father about his daughter
The history of cross-Channel migration is long and full of victims. But Sara is unusual in this. Her parents were Iraqi, but they met in Belgiumwhere Sara was born while her parents lived in Antwerp.
The family spent some time in Finland, but then tried to live in Sweden. Sara went to school there and learned the language.
Other members of his extended family were granted asylum in the country, but for some reason, Ahmed’s immediate family was denied that status.
They feared being deported back to Iraq and decided to try to reach the UK instead.
“We were in Sweden for seven years and didn’t even think about leaving,” Ahmed tells me. “Our children would go to school and live normal lives. But when we were forced to leave Sweden, when we received the deportation letter, I had no alternative.
“I had no choice,” says Ahmed. “I wanted to protect her life, I wanted her to have a future, a dignified life like other children, but I couldn’t.
“The Swedish government and immigration officials are the reason behind the tragedy we have suffered. We are talking about children who were born here in Europe. How could they send them to Iraq?”
I wonder if he thought about the future, about what would happen to his family now. Does he still hope to cross the English Channel?
Ahmed shakes his head. “Of course not, of course not,” he says, gently. “I don’t think about it anymore, just thinking about it hurts me.
“I lost my son, I lost my daughter. She was like a butterfly, like a bird, she was everything to us, the light of our home, our source of laughter, she was everything. lose your brothers.”
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He says the boat they were traveling on was crowded but safe until it was boarded by a rival group of migrants.
“They attacked us,” he tells me. “The water was only a meter deep, but there was chaos. That’s when people suffocated.”
Their hope now is that the British government will see their pain, feel their loss and offer hope.
“I appeal to the British people and the government to help me get to Britain legally. I don’t want assistance. I can work, so can my wife. I just want safety and protection for my children. That’s all.”
Sara is now in the shade of a tree in the Lille cemetery. A girl born in Belgium to Iraqi parents, who grew up in Sweden and headed for Britain – now buried in the north France.
It’s a dire reminder that there is nothing simple about the challenge of migration. The issues are deep and the tentacles spread far and wide. And it’s also a dire warning – This was a record year in terms of crossings and deaths.
So far this year, I have been to the funerals of two seven-year-old girls who died trying to cross the English Channel in a small boat. There will inevitably be another tragedy. The only question is when.
This story originally appeared on News.sky.com read the full story
