We were led in a file to a building fenced within very tall walls with barbed spiked wires at the top of it, where we were told to sit on the freezing cold floors. A man wearing a head tie (one my mother wore to church, sometimes), and a long gown that nearly reached the ground addressed us. He had a bucket full of food that looked like left over and stale, it was almost going bad but to us, after that horrific journey, it smelt so good as I was starving and my stomach felt like it was tied up in knots. We were all starving at this point. He did not speak very good English, but I remember the words, ’If you try run, I kill you’! This was so scary. We had arrived the much dreaded ‘Lybia death camps.
He along with a some of his colleagues visibly armed with guns proceeded to fling pieces of the food at us. I remember my mother diving to grab a piece of stale bread thrown in our direction, and whatever she could grab and though it tasted like sawdust, I couldn’t wait to get it into my tummy, even though I tasted what felt like a live maggot squash between my teeth, there was no time to thing. I have never been so hungry!
We stayed in the camp for several days that felt like months. Camp room we were in smelled even more terrible by the day. There was a constant stench of a mixture of blood, sweat, faeces and urine so thick in the atmosphere, you could cut it with a knife. The constant crying of the infant who was born, also filled the cramped room. At night, the mother of the child could be heard sobbing and groaning. She was visibly in agony; her child had also fallen ill the both looked pale as ghosts. The unhygienic state of the room and the horrible food served to us were nothing for a new born to be around. It was our fifth night at the camp and on this particular day we had not eaten for nearly 24 hours, suddenly, we were all startled by a loud scream…
…To be continued in the next edition
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