For African Migrants, Hope and a Home in a Vacant French School

Fearing for his son’s life, his father urged him to rush to Europe. So began a six-year odyssey that took him opposite a Sahara on a well-established bootlegging route, where a pickup lorry in his procession pennyless down and left a dozen migrants to die in a desert; 9 months struggling to tarry in Libya; a vessel opposite a Mediterranean to Italy where he spent 3 years in a camp; and, after his haven ask was deserted in Italy, a trek opposite a Alps into France.

He was wakeful that France was shutting a doorway on people like him, though he hold out wish by indicating to a internal French, who had given a migrants pots, cups, spoons, taken them in their cars to hospitals, supposing French lessons and helped them arrange appointments with French bureaucrats.

“I don’t know what they wish from us, we don’t know what they wish to do tomorrow, because they are coming, we don’t know,” Mr. Sow said, vocalization on a corner of his bed in a little room inside a school. “But right now, we can say, alhamdulillah, they are good, and if we see them, all we can contend is, ‘Thanks, brother, thanks.’ ”

Mélissa Godin contributed stating in Paris.

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