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Prelude - the first time I drowned

Ester, who you might have been?
Your dead body arrived to Lampedusa with your brother on 16th April 2009. You were 18 years old and pregnant.
You were one of first and one of last whom Lampedusiani gave a proper grave. After you there were thousands more who tried to find freedom. The precarious route to freedom failed. They have no name , no grave and no trace. Does their families know, or do they still wait their return?
Since year 2009 the people are pushed back and pushed around on the sea and the borders. There are no safe routes. Treatment of migrants, asylum seekers, and refugees is alarming.
There is not much we can do Ester, I am sorry…

After engaging some weeks by sea rescue in summer/spring 2023/24, I am looking for an angle how i can approach the topic of migration or rather the disaster of human rights, from which the western world has turned its back. Looking at the empty boats left on the sea after the refugees were rescued or pulled back, I am opening a reflection and setting parallel to the mythological figures, who transports the souls through the river to underground.
As people migrate, in a need for shalter in the ports of safety, as so the images do. People fleeing wars and poverty often cannot cross frontiers - but the images, phone or facebook messages can. Very inspired by report of Sally Hayden, who explores the lives of people stuck under the control of traffickers in Lybia, militias, the UN, and lets them speak to us as full human beings.