

“I decided to leave for Libya to help my family afford the weddings of my sisters. In Egypt, for a woman to get married involves a lot of costs for her family.
Since there are more work opportunities and higher wages in Libya, I left to work there. The conditions were not easy, and I came back to Egypt. But the financial situation of my family made me decide to go back to Libya to depart for Europe, hoping to find work there to be able to support them.
When I found the smugglers, they kept me in a warehouse with about 30 other people. We received very little water and food, and we had to fight among us to get our share. I complained about that, and a smuggler poured acid on my leg. All I could see was smoke coming from my skin. Then I could see the bone. There was barely any skin left, I could put half a finger through the hole the acid had left. They also cut my hand in two different parts. I had to sew the wounds myself, with a needle I found.

One day, the smuggler decided it was time to leave. He said it will be fine, that there will be a driver and life jackets. We were brought to a boat, and were given 12 croissants and a few dates for all 25 people on board, and small water bottles each. We were so hungry from the time when we were barely fed in the warehouse that we ate everything after leaving from shore.
After some time, a boat came to get the driver and left us alone, telling us to “go straight”. We didn’t have any clue of where we were, where to go. We tried to use the compass on our phone but with the waves the boat was not even going straight. Later, one of the two engines failed.
We had a satellite phone and called several times a number we were given. But we didn’t have much hope. We saw several boats, and no one came to help. We made a prayer, which is the prayer Muslims do before dying. We felt like we were dead already.
After four long days without any water and food left, having been seasick, wet and cold, we saw your boat on the horizon.
When we saw the smiles of the people on the orange boats, we understood you were there to help. We felt like we were being born again.
Photos by Tess Barthes and Camille Martin Juan