By repeat volunteer, Callam Pentecost
Back in 2017 I wrote about my experiences working with the NGO Refugee Support Europe in a refugee camp in northwest Greece, primarily supporting those fleeing conflict in the Middle East. Seven years on, having just finished my second stint with this incredible NGO, this time in Cyprus, I wanted to share my reflections of what’s changed – and what’s remained the same.
One block over from the hustle and bustle of Ledra Street, the main tourist thoroughfare in old town Nicosia, lies Refugee Support’s Dignity Centre. With summer temperatures above 40C, all the other businesses along the laneway were shut, but “The Dignity,” as members call it, was open and buzzing.
The Centre was established back in 2019 and has since supported thousands of refugees escaping the most challenging of circumstances. In the first week I was there, hundreds of people seeking asylum walked through the door – the majority coming to access the market and collect much needed supplies, and others seeking assistance in navigating the often convoluted, seemingly arbitrary (and, I would go so far as to say, systematically racist) bureaucratic system. Many came into the Centre to simply escape the heat and enjoy a cold glass of lemonade, charge their phone, and have a chat.
The people I met came from a vast number of nations, some familiar to me from my time in Greece (Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq), and others new (DR Congo, Cameroon, Sudan, Somalia, Nigeria, Yemen, Niger, Guinea, Sierra Leone). I even met a handful of people that had somehow managed to escape from Palestine (they were the only peoples marked as ‘stateless’ on their government documents). Despite their different states of origin and everything they had been through, generally all shared a willingness to help each other and a drive to build better futures for themselves and their families.
Stats on arrivals are often inconsistent and delayed, but according to recent data Cyprus remains, in absolute terms, under the most pressure relative to its population size, with 12,000 asylum applications in a country of 1.25 million. For such a small country, the volume of asylum applications has overwhelmed the system, with people forced to wait years to receive their decision. Success rates vary country to country, but in 2023 only 2,314 were granted subsidiary protection in Cyprus, and a mere 749 were formally recognised as refugees. In 2024 so far, almost 7,000 have been deported or repatriated.
While refugees and people seeking asylum live across all of Cyprus’s major centres, Nicosia is home to the largest population. Known as the world’s last divided capital, Nicosia is half Turkish Cypriot and half Greek Cypriot, separated by a UN monitored Green Zone. To walk from one end of Ledra Street to other requires a passport (and it will be scanned no fewer than four times if you are coming back again). It has been this way since 1963 after unrest between the Greek and Turkish halves of town lead to a skirmish that left more than a 100 dead. In 1974, after the Turkish invasion, the zone would be extended to cross the entire island, spanning more than 180 kilometres. During this time, 180,000 Greek Cypriots were forced to leave their homes in the north and go south, while 40,000 Turkish Cypriots were forced to do the reverse.
As I reflected on Cyprus’s recent history during my second week at the Centre, I learned of the plight of 86 refugees (eight of whom were children, including one unaccompanied minor) who were stuck in the Green Zone. Now blocked from accessing asylum procedures from either side, they had been sweltering in UNHCR supplied tents for weeks or months, with food offerings at a minimum due to dwindling resources and no access to sanitary products. Half the group are now suing the government for their handling of the situation, with many in UN circles agreeing that international laws have been violated. There are also accusations that some of those affected were rounded up at night by police and pushed into the Green Zone by force.
Despite the obvious failings in how the situation has been managed in Cyprus, it is just another example (like in Greece in 2017) of how individual states have been left to respond to what is really a regional and global problem. UNHCR data shows that three-quarters of refugees are hosted in low-and middle-income countries near their countries of origin. All the while, other high-income European states shirk or ignore their humanitarian responsibilities. In April this year, after three years of negotiations, the European Parliament adopted the EU Pact on Migration and Asylum. A welcome step in principle, the pact has been sharply criticised by human rights and refugee organisations, who argue that in many cases the situation will worsen under the new rules.
During both of my stints with Refugee Support Europe I have been struck by the capacity and agility of such a small organisation, the generosity of the volunteers who come from all parts of the world to roll up their sleeves and help, and the selflessness and dedication of the tiny handful of professionals that manage RSE’s operations. Paula, the Director in Cyprus, was a spectacular example of this. Paula has been on the ground for the last five years (broken up by stints in Moldova to support Ukrainian refugees, as well as Türkiye in the aftermath of the 2023 earthquake). She has dedicated herself completely to doing good, stretching every donated dollar as far as it can go and serving all who come through the Dignity’s doors with tireless grace and humility.
Sadly, the conflict in Syria continues into its 14th year and – as we have seen with Ukraine, Sudan, and Palestine in last 24 months – these kinds of emergencies will continue to arise and evolve into ongoing, overlapping crises. What’s more, with the climate crisis causing increasing political and environmental upheaval, states that have closed their doors in the past may face similar plights. Large-scale migration will continue to add complexity to an already vastly under-resourced sector.
I know that the scale of these problems can be overwhelming and can leave you feeling like the efforts of any one individual couldn’t possibly make any material impact on such huge issues. But I’ve seen firsthand how individual drops of kindness and solidarity can create ripples, then waves, that create real and lasting change.
Educate yourself, speak up, demand more from your governments, and donate (time or money) wherever possible.
You can make a difference.
