flusha and FaceIT donate to Doctors Without Borders

(Transcribed from: https://twitter.com/roaldvanbuuren/status/687469196263972865)

Dear Ms Scuri and all at FACEIT Limited,

I am one of the lucky ones. I left Eritrea ten years ago on a scholarship to South Africa and now I live in London. I have a loving family, a home and a job - all things which so many of us take for granted. But there are many people who aren't so lucky. An estimated 5,000 people are risking their lives every month trying to escape the Horn of Africa, but nobody knows the real number. When I heard MSF was launching a search and rescue boat and was seeking volunteers to save those crossing the Mediterranean, I had to act. I had the chance to help my people.

So I joined Bourbon Argos, one of the three MSF boats on the Mediterranean. My first rescue happened at 8 o'clock one morning. We were 25 miles off the coast of Libya when the Maritime Rescue Coordination Centre, which knows the location of all rescue boats, telephoned and told us there was a boat in distress about two hours from where we were. It was the first time I had come face to face with the crisis. It was very disturbing and very emotional.

At first you see the boat from a distance. You don't know where it has come from or how many people are in it. Then, as you get closer, you see the people who are crammed into it. I couldn't believe how many people there were - 106 people in a small rubbery dinghy. The boat was taking on water - it had already reached their waists. People were shouting, praying, struggling to even move their arms as the water rose. I had to swallow a surge of panic.

We told them, 'We are the Médecins Sans Frontières, we are a humanitarian organisation'. We calmed them down and told them to remain seated, because sometimes people get very excited when they see us, and the boat is at risk of capsizing. We said we were going to take them to Italy, and reassured them we would not take them back to Libya. When they were safely on board the Bourbon Argos, one Eritrean man said to me, 'Regardless of where you take me now, I am just glad I am not on that boat anymore'.

On that first morning, within two hours we had rescued three boats containing around 400 people. A few days later we had a terrible incident when we were in the middle of a rescue. The left side of a boat disintegrated and people started falling into the water. It happened very fast. Thirteen people were rescued by our team, but three drowned. Everyone was crying. All you could hear was their sobs. One man came to me and said, 'I can't see my brother, where is my brother?' When he realised what had happened, he said, 'So my brother is drowned' and started to cry. What can you do in that situation? What could I do?

Up to that point everything had been going so well and we had no problems. You feel it should be easy to rescue these people, that nothing should go wrong because you are there. Then all of a sudden it happens. I felt so angry - they were there in front of us, they were already with us, and then we lost them.

It is hard to imagine the desperate choices these people make when they embark on these journeys. I asked one man, 'Why did you decide to get on the boat?' He replied that it was because he had no hope left inside him, he felt dead inside, and a dead person doesn't feel death.

Imagine that moment. You step onto an old rubber dinghy. You have paid smugglers all your savings to escape Libya, because your life in Libya is hell. It is night time, pitch black, there is no light to see by. All you can hear is the noise from the sea. There is no food and no water. No latrines. You feel seasick and exhausted. You breathe in oil fumes from the boat's engine. The oil spills onto your skin and burns you. You are afraid. You don't know how long you will be there, you don't know where you are or where you're going. The sun rises. There is nothing but waves and empty sea around you. People have been sick in the night. It is early morning and you realise that water is leaking into the boat. You realise you are going to die. On your lifejacket you write the address and telephone number of your loved ones. You write, 'If I die please take care of my body'. You write 'Mum I love you'.

After being rescued, when they are safely on our boat, it is often the first time they can sleep properly, the first time they can rest. They have been under huge stress, and suddenly they have food and warmth. When they see the lights of Sicily, they start to sing, they start to smile. They lost hope in the Sahara desert, then again in Libya. They have been through hell, and they have crossed the sea. Although it is not the end of their journey, they are alive. They have hope again.

Near the end of my time on the Bourbon Argos, we went to rescue a boat with 347 people from the Eritrea on board. The incident where we had lost three people was fresh on my mind and I thought, how many am I going to lose today? I had to control my emotions - it was very tough. I looked out to sea and thought, he might be my neighbour, he might be my friend. When we approached the boat, I spoke to them in the Eritrean language and they were shocked and disbelieving, but very reassured. As they were rescued, the relief and happiness on their faces was just incredible. As we approached the coast, you could see the lights shining all along the coast. When we told them it was Italy, they all started to sing.

They said, 'We travelled through the desert, survived Libya and crossed the sea, thank God we are alive.' It was a moment I will never forget. That day alone, we rescued 2,000 people from boats in the Mediterranean Sea. They were 'guests' on our boat. Not migrants, not refugees, but our 'guests'. For MSF, this project is about life. Our mandate is to save lives and lives alone.

Thank you for allowing me to help my people.
Darwit*

*Darwit's name has been changed to protect the identity of his family, who still live in Eritrea.