Katie Barlow

On September 2nd 2015, our screens were flooded with images of a dead child, washed up on a beach in Turkey after a failed attempt to cross the sea in a search for sanctuary. His name was Aylan Kurdi.  My response, like that of an unprecedented number of others, was to go to Calais, delivering aid, and then on to Lesvos where many of the boats from Turkey arrive. I knew I was strong enough to be helpful as a water rescuer if need be, and I was asked to take photos for the Refugee Council. I spent two weeks at Katia beach, helping with and documenting the arrival of thousands of refugees as their boats drifted to the Greek shore. Many photographers were waiting at the shoreline trying to capture the essence of what we were witnessing: a mass migration of historical proportions. Finding it hard to film and photograph people in distress and feeling the need to help the refugees off the boats and to change sodden clothest, I found myself waiting until people were safe and dry before taking portraits.

 Away from the chaos of the beach, I became drawn to the UNHCR transfer buses that were waiting to take the refugees to the registration camps. Although uncertain of what the immediate future held, their first perilous journey over the sea had been successfully accomplished and the UNHCR bus became a temporary place a sanctuary, where families and individuals could get warm, shelter from the rain and freak snow storms. As the refugees took to their seats, some would look out of their windows, back at the ocean that had brought them to this point. Others would slump exhausted, others huddled in the warmth, some smiled with relief.

From where I was standing, each bus window served as a frame and presented a portrait.  There was a calm, although it was harrowing. Away from the chaos of the beach, people were still and reflective.

Two of the portraits taken at Katia Beach were selected and exhibited at the National Portrait Gallery as part of the Taylor Wessing Photographic Portrait Prize exhibition 2016.  I would like to think that they helped to keep the issue in the public eye.

To learn more about the journey and the work, please read the article written in Hatje Cantz by Christiane Monarchi, editor of Photo Monitor: www.hatjecantz.de/fotoblog/?p=7409

 'The Jungle' refugee camp, in Calais, Northern France,  had over 7000 people living in it in squalid conditions. Men, women, children, including  pregnant women and new born babies, all wanting to get to the UK. It was built on an asbestos-ridden landfill site on the edge of the town. The French and UK authorities did very little to help and refused to deem the camp a humanitarian crisis which meant that the big aid agencies were not allowed to operate there. As a result, volunteers, who came mainly from the UK, formed what were to become new grass roots initiatives still in operation today and helped to bring a level of civility to the camp by providing emergency food, water, clothes, shelters, resource centres with access to legal information. Volunteers were moved on such unprecedented levels, to operate and organise in ways that the big aid agencies like UNHCR and Save the Children were unable to do without government permission, and still continue to do so today.

My first trip to the camp was to deliver a carload of rice and water but after experiencing just how desperate the situation was, I was soon back with a boot full of baby milk and nappies for the Unofficial Women and Children's centre which had been set up by volunteer Liz Clegg, who had come from Glastonbury festival months earlier with a van full of discarded tents and wellington boots. She was so moved by what she witnessed and horrified at the lack of government help and intervention that she felt she had to do something.  She never left and instead continued relentlessly to do whatever she could, which was providing a refuge for women and children away from the harsh realities of the camp. Greatly concerned at the lack of support for the hundreds of unaccompanied minors in the camp, Liz became a mother figure to them. Since the camp's demolition, Liz has moved to Birmingham to open a resource centre for Women and Children, called The Meena Centre. 

I filmed with Liz for many weeks, footage of which became used for both  Channel 4 and BBC news features:

www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/uk-england-devon-37577668/the-moment-a-suffocating-afghan-boy-was-saved-by-a-text

 It was very difficult to film and photograph in the camp - people were understandably very wary and at times quite hostile. The photographs I have decided to share are pictures that were taken towards the end of the first part of the demolition of the camp. 

www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/uk-england-devon-37577668/the-moment-a-suffocating-afghan-boy-was-saved-by-a-text

When notification from the French authorities about the imminent demolition of the South side of 'the Jungle' was made public, a group of Iranian men decided to go on Hunger Strike. What had become their temporary home was about to be destroyed and they feared deportation back to Iran. Telling me stories of persecution and torture, they all feared returning to the country they had taken many risks to leave. Out of fear and desperation, they decided to go on hunger strike as an attempt to bring the world's attention to not only their plight but to that of the thousands of other displaced refugees around them. They were particularly horrified that the unofficial Women and Children's centre had been earmarked for demolition too and worried as to where the women and children would go to keep warm and safe and in turn, where  the unaccompanied minors would go. These worries were held by all in the camp and the men used their hunger strike to speak for all. Sadly they did not realise how disinterested most of the world's media were.

They asked me to document their protest and to try and get the images and their story out into the mainstream. They felt that if the world's media reported on their plight and saw what was happening in the 'Jungle', the French authorities would abandon the demolition and allow them to at least remain in what had become their temporary home, however grim. The men vowed to remain on hunger strike until the demolition was abandoned. 

Sadly the media didn't come but Ai Wei Wei published these photographs as part of his Human Flow archive. 

With some support and persuasion from Iranian UK-based volunteers and a psychologist, a ceremony was arranged to thank them for their sacrifice, and the strike ended gently and quietly.

Luckily they all survived. Three have made it to the UK and are awaiting asylum.

I spent two weeks at Katia beach, helping with and documenting the arrival of thousands of refugees as their boats drifted to the Greek shore. Many photographers were waiting at the shoreline trying to capture the essence of what we were witnessing: a mass migration of historical proportions. Finding it hard to film and photograph people in distress and feeling the need to help the refugees off the boats and to change sodden clothes instead of document, I found myself waiting until people were safe and dry before taking portraits. I also spent time with the many volunteers, who were keeping watch throughout the night to help new arrivals as they made it to the sea shore. It was here one early morning that I found Ai Wei Wei on the beach. He was there filming for his documentary on the refugee crisis: Human Flow.  

In early 2015 Mytelini harbour, Lesbos, was flooded with refugees and storms broke out leaving those unable to find shelter with nowhere to go. The closed-down municipality swimming pool, opposite the ferry departure depot, was accessed by those desperate to find a place to sleep. Deemed dangerous and unstable, the authorities evacuated the site once the weather had subsided and I stumbled across the building a few months later. Hearing of the story, and seeing the front door ajar, I went inside to see the space that had been occupied. Despite the big clean up that had taken place, Inside I found objects and traces of those who had been there and, when exploring the building further, I found  some people still taking refuge there. They were camping out in the basement changing rooms. With no money to travel onwards by ferry to Athens, they were trying to find ways to raise funds to continue their journey. One of the boys was selling bags of lollipops he had been given by a volunteer along with three donated pushchairs he hoped to sell on.

They were from Pakistan. 

The former Dunkirk camp was a living nightmare. Worse than Calais camp and that was hard. It was shocking. Yet, the resilience of those who were living there was humbling. It was known as the smuggler camp, where the smugglers based themselves in amongst the newly-arrived families. It was seen as a dangerous camp - and difficult to provide aid to. The police patrolled the camp both day and night, regularly denying access to volunteers and essential aid. It was a less 'sophisticated' set-up than Calais. Barely any toilets and limited water.

Yet those who volunteered there and the refugee families who had to live and endure the freezing conditions there, had a resilience I had never witnessed before.

I will never forget stumbling across the young family of three, huddled around a campfire by their tent in the wood. It was sub-zero temperatures and they welcomed me over and we talked about life and their dreams of a better future. They were from Iraq.

In 2015, the UK government pledged to resettle 20,000 Syrian people through the Syrian Vulnerable People's Resettlement programme in conjunction with UNHCR.

I was commissioned to take a series of portraits of resettled families and their integration development. This is an ongoing project.

UNHCR - UK resettlement offers Syrians fleeing war a chance to rebuild their lives:

www.unhcr.org/uk/news/latest/2017/11/59fc7d9b4/uk-resettlement-offers-syrians-fleeing-war-a-chance-to-rebuild-lives.html

Ahmad is from Afghanistan, he is 8 years old and lives in Peterborough, he and his brother are awaiting asylum.

I became aware of Ahmad when he called volunteer Inca Sorrell for help when he and 15 others were suffocating in the back of a refrigerated lorry they were being smuggled in whilst travelling to the UK. Luckily, Ahmad had thought to call Inca and as a result of this, the UK police were able to trace the mobile and they were rescued. I travelled with Inca and Liz to meet the boys and I have been following them ever since.

We made a Channel 4 News feature together about their experience and are collaborating on a Virtual Reality project about Ahamd's dream of becoming a pilot.

Ahmad is now at school in Peterborough, but it is unsure what and where his future will be.

Ahmad's Story: Channel 4 News:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=9B8xiLP38zw

Mytilini harbour is where thousands of refugees wait to continue their journey to Athens. One night I met a group of young children and their parents,  just about to board the boat. I was struck by their composure, their determination and their enthusiasm towards me taking their portraits. They were proud. They had made it this far and were just about to embark on the next stage of their journey to what they hoped would be sanctuary.

Whilst working in Lesvos I met Ai WeiWei who commissioned me to produce this sequence for his documentary The Rest.