Two years ago today the Calais jungle was demolished. Children, that myself and a team of The Hummingbird Project volunteers, had been working with for months were displaced all over France and the problem didn't end there. In the two years since the bulldozers came in and destroyed the small sense of home and the huge sense of community that had been built in The Jungle, children all over Europe have continued to be failed as they arrived on shores up and down the continent desperate for safety and a chance at a new life.
During my time in Calais the one thing I was constantly surprised and horrified by was the treatment that refugees faced at the hands of the CRS police force. Brutality was a daily occurence and the stories I heard and continue to hear even now I'm back in England will haunt me forever.
I wrote this poem about 18 months ago, Calais and the children I had worked with there had been on my mind a lot and I wanted to write something to show a small slice of what the refugees in Calais had been subjected to.
It has never been published before, I performed it a Hummingbird Project fundraiser last year but aside from that this is the first time it's taking it's steps into the wider world. It seems fitting that this poem be shared with you all on the two year anniversary since I left Calais.
I may have left, but a little bit of my heart will always be there and with all the people I met during my time there.
I hope you enjoy it...
CRS
Down the hill, round the corner
Stop
Be polite
CRS don’t play games here,
They assault and they fight
To them, a child, a victim of war
Is someone to ridicule and push to the
floor
They don’t have rules, and they never play
fair
As they stand guard at the gates with the
sun in their hair
Guns at their waist, tear gas at the ready
Their tempers flare quickly and their
trigger fingers aren’t steady
Through the streets of The Jungle, we walk
or we drive
The sound, all around, the buzz of a hive
Your people aren’t safe here, you shouldn’t
be trapped
In tents that flood daily, in a place
that’s unmapped
You keep to the edges, your eyes on the
ground
As the CRS plow through you and push you
around
They’re bigger, they’re stronger, they’re
armed and they’re mean
Rubber bullets shot at children
They don’t care if they’re seen
They know they’re untouchable, that they
have the power
That they can go home to a hot meal and a
shower
While children sit frightened, huddled
alone and wait for the sunrise with cold in their bones.
The children are careful, the adults are
too, you don’t want to upset them, you don’t know what to do
To stay out of trouble, you have to blend
in
But the CRS don’t play games here
And they don’t trade in fair as they pick
someone who’s defied them right out of thin air
They beat him
They mock him
They make sure people see, what will happen
to you here if you are refugee
They don’t try to hide it, right there on
the sand
Sneers on their faces, their batons in hand
Rules don’t apply here, not the ones that
we know
The police aren’t your friends here, they
don’t help those in need
They might kick you or punch you, or shoot
if you flee
It’s not easy to live here
Scared
And alone
Not enough shelter, hungry for home
You have struggled for months, sometimes
years to get here
To this barren sandy wasteland that will
never be clear
Of your people seeking refuge from
countries of your own
Forced to leave in a hurry, to abandon your
home
You know where you’re headed, it’s a well
trodden plan
One you know inside out like the back of your
hand
It’s a haven a sanctuary, someplace safe to
settle
Where each day isn’t a test of mettle on
mettle
It’s easy to die here
Scared
And alone
Not enough shelter, hungry for home
There’s so many ways, it could happen to
you
CRS in the dark
Sometimes one
Sometimes two
Alone on the sand, finally ending your pain
Of days filled with anger, of nights filled
with shame
As you struggle to enter the trucks as they
drive
Your face just one of The Jungle hive
Your muscles are screaming, your fingers
are raw
Everything in your body shouts No! Stop,
I’m sore
Does anyone notice?
Does anyone care?
Or are you just a number? A statistic to
share?
CRS don’t see body and fall to their knees
They see scum or a mongrel and laugh as you
bleed
Stop
Be polite
CRS don’t play games here
They assault and they fight
******
Thank you for reading this far. If you want to know more about what The Hummingbird Project are doing now you can find out here: https://www.hummingbirdproject.org.uk/
Sophie x
No comments:
Post a Comment