As they flee their countries after suffering abuse or exploitation, migrant women continue to be exposed to specific gender-related violence during their journey and in their country of arrival.
Where are their names and faces? Women represent almost half of those exiled worldwide, according to the European Migration Network. Those who reach Europe from Africa have sometimes experienced Libyan prisons and have, for the most part, been exposed to exploitation and sexual violence by men. Once in their country of arrival, other obstacles punctuate their journey. They must face lengthy administrative procedures to hope to obtain papers: in France, 29% of asylum seekers obtained a positive response in 2022. They must look for housing, employment, treatment and often take care of their children. their children.
Although these difficulties are shared, each woman’s trajectory is unique. What characterizes them, “it is not the exceptionality of their movement but rather the fact that they transgress the immobility to which they have been assigned”, writes researcher Camille Schmoll in The Wretched of the Sea (ed. La Découverte). Despite their vulnerability, their experience of the margins is also a place “deploying new forms of solidarity and forms of struggle”. While the immigration bill was adopted by Parliament on Tuesday, December 19, franceinfo collected the testimonies of three exiled women.
Maladho, 33 years old, Guinean: “I saw myself dying during the crossing”
Maladho left Guinea in 2018, after the death of her husband. She crossed the Mediterranean alone to arrive in France, where she brought her three children. All are in regular status. After training in cooking at chef Thierry Marx’s school, she worked for the town hall of Villemomble (Seine-Saint-Denis) and lived in a small apartment provided by an association.
“I was 28 when my husband died. My family wanted me to remarry his older brother, but he already had three wives and I didn’t love him. For her, I couldn’t be alone with my three children who were 1, 5 and 11 years old at the time. When I refused, my father-in-law kicked us out of the house. He took everything we had. But before leaving, I had found some money that my husband had hidden in the house.
A friend told me to come to her house in Dakar, Senegal. I had no other solution. It was complicated there, I had to find a job, the children had to go to school, I had to find food for them. One day, a gentleman came to see me and asked me where I was staying. I understood that he knew my family. I was too scared, so I went to Morocco where I met an acquaintance, Fatou. I did housework and looked after a woman’s baby for a while.
Then, Fatou told me that I was beautiful, that I could have evenings in Tangier and Marrakech with her. I understood that she wanted me to prostitute myself. I refused and we started to argue. His roommate told me he could take me by boat to Spain. He was a smuggler. I had heard that people who crossed the Mediterranean died in the water. But the smuggler showed me pictures of a big ferry and told me everything would be fine. He wanted me to pay him 2,800 euros, but I only had 850 euros with me. He took my passport and told me I should send the rest to him once I got to Europe. I never found my passport.
I went to Nador [nord du Maroc], where I found other groups of migrants waiting in the forest. We had to walk for hours before reaching the place from which we were to leave.
“A man beat up tired people, especially men. Women told me that they had been raped at night.”
Arriving near the sea, we realized that the boat was not a ferry, but a small Zodiac. Nobody wanted to go up, we were too afraid. But the guards threatened us with knives, said they were going to rape us. There must have been more than 50 of us in the boat. There was a Cameroonian woman with a 2 month old baby. I told them that I preferred to die on the ground, so that my body could at least be found. They threw me in the boat.
During the crossing, the water began to rise. She didn’t stop. It was raining, it was windy. We were drowning, I saw myself dying. We were all crying and praying. A man said that we should throw the children in the water to lighten themselves and then it would be the women’s turn. Some were for, others against. People were desperate, fighting. They threw everything, bags, phones. A boat finally came to save us. We landed in Almeria, Spain. I stayed in the hospital for a month. When I came out, I didn’t speak the language. Someone told me to go to France. I took the train and arrived at Gare de Lyon, in Paris.”
Magally, 29 years old, Congolese: “I spent nights in the cold on the street with my children”
Magally left the Democratic Republic of Congo in 2019. She fled political persecution targeting her family. Today, she is a self-employed beautician and lives alone with her three children in Trappes (Seine-Saint-Denis). Having had her asylum application rejected twice, she is undocumented.
“I arrived in France in 2019 with my two sons aged 9 and 3. We arrived in Paris after taking a flight from Egypt using fake Belgian passports paid $5,000 [plus de 4 700 euros] to a smuggler. Just before leaving, I was vomiting and feeling unwell. I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t understand how it was possible since I still had my period, my stomach was normal. I wanted to have an abortion, then I gave up.
At the exit from the airport in Paris, a lady collected the passports and took us to a church in Pantin (Seine-Saint-Denis), where there were other Congolese. It was January, it was cold. A ‘brother’ agreed to host us at his home. One day, I had a fever, spots, I was really unwell. I hadn’t told anyone about my pregnancy. My host took me to the hospital where I learned that I was 8 months pregnant and that I was expecting a baby girl.
I gave birth in Sevran (Seine-Saint-Denis). There were complications: my daughter couldn’t breathe well, so I had an emergency cesarean section. She only weighed 2.8 kilos at birth, she was a very small baby! As there were now four of us, the family who welcomed us no longer had room to keep us.
“I found myself all alone, without resources, with my sons and my daughter who had just been born. I didn’t know how I was going to feed them, where we were going to sleep. We spent nights in the cold, on the street .”
I found myself in a camp in the Rosa Parks district, near Aubervilliers (Seine-Saint-Denis). Every night I couldn’t sleep. I watched over my children until morning, I was too scared. At night there were thefts. Every morning, the police came with buses to evict us and we had to make do for the day. I was so tired from walking all day with my kids, especially since I was breastfeeding my daughter. I went from place to place, from camp to camp.
When my daughter was 24 days old, she became seriously ill and had to be placed in an induced coma in the hospital. After that, 115 found me a room in a hotel in Trappes (Yvelines). It’s a very small room with a bunk bed for the four of us, a small TV, a small fridge. The building is not healthy, all my children have fallen ill. One of my sons is very traumatized. He has nightmares, he can’t concentrate at school. I often wonder if I will ever be happy. I never chose to be in France.”
Maia, 39, Georgian: “I was ashamed to ask for help”
Maïa left Georgia in 2019 for political reasons. A biological analyst, she could not make ends meet and provide a decent life for her five children. Four years after their arrival in France, they are still not regularized. Maïa plans to submit a new application in 2024.
“You cannot imagine life in Georgia. It is a poor country, coveted by Russia for a long time. For residents who have no connection with politicians, it is very difficult to find a job. The salary minimum is around 200 euros. My husband and I couldn’t feed our five children. So we made the difficult decision to leave the country. We sold our car and took a flight to Paris. I knew that it would be complicated. I was going to have to take care of everyone, because my husband speaks neither English nor French.
We applied for asylum at the Cergy prefecture (Val-d’Oise). While our file was being evaluated, we were sent to a house in Gap (Hautes-Alpes). We stayed there for seven months, we kept a low profile. When the administration’s response came, it shocked me. They didn’t believe us. They wrote that “Georgia is a secure country”. I appealed, but was once again refused.
We received an obligation to leave French territory, which means the end of all protection. It was February 2019, it was very cold. We went back to Paris, but we didn’t know anyone. I called 115, who had no solution to offer us. We were finally directed to the Gonesse hospital (Val-d’Oise). We stayed in the shelter for ten days, but we slept on the ground, without blankets, it was really hard. And then the confinement began. The hospital couldn’t keep us. The 115 put us up in a hotel in Sarcelles (Val-d’Oise). But everything was closed, we had no money. One day in the street, I was desperate, I asked a passerby to help me.
“I will never forget this lady. She bought us clothes, medicine, food and fruit for the children. She paid us phone cards.”
We stayed in this hotel for five months before being transferred to another hotel in Persan (Val-d’Oise). Every day, I went to the Red Cross, to Secours populaire, because we had no money. I was ashamed to be in this situation, to ask for help. Sometimes, in the street or on the bus, I cried.
Finally, 115 ended up giving us another room in a hotel in Argenteuil (Val-d’Oise). Now we are in a stable situation. The children are better. They play football, judo. I found a job as a chambermaid in a hotel in Paris and I earn a little money. I repurchased some makeup and started cooking again. I feel like a woman again. With my children, we help the refugees who arrive. Every day, I still fear that the police will stop me in the street, but I remain hopeful. Next year, we will have been in France for 5 years. I hope we finally get our papers.”