The beauty of the desert - and the other side ... After about a week in the desert, I have made myself cozy over lunch in the shade. I was all alone on that thin steaks, the others were scattered somewhere on the wide wadi. I'm lying on a mat and listen to music just as suddenly, as if from nowhere, a group run by black Africans. About 8 guys walk past me and greet me in Arabic and French, and walk.
I was floored, I never thought that we meet there such people. It is a subject that is silenced in our more ... Refugees from Sudan, Nigeria and Niger are reflected frequently questionable "leaders" through the Sahara, and try to reach the oasis cities of Ghat in Libya and Djanet in Algeria, from where they want to get through to the Mediterranean. Final destination of the refugees is Europe, where they hope a better life. A life without hunger, without fear, without poverty. But the desert is tricky ... A day without water in the summer, and it is dead too, we are such a begenet, or his remains. He is dying of thirst on the march through the desert and his dead body was covered with stones. Wild animals have dragged his bones, ribs, parts of the spine and leg bones were scattered on the floor, as well as his skull. I then searched his remains together and to be "grave" down. I did not want his remains were so distributed on the floor ...
met after 10 days, we are a second group of refugees. We gave them water, canned food, given bread, oranges and biscuits. One then said to me, "thank you, god bless you sister." They have nothing of it except for a small water container, a thin blanket and a small backpack. Hopefully They somehow find their way to a better life, no matter where.
Transitionals 
