Syrians in Turkey say new deal won’t stop them

Desperate for a place to resume their lives, Syrians who fled civil war still pin hopes on getting to Europe through smugglers.

Fatima Ibrahim, left, is the sole breadwinner for a family of seven Syrian refugees in Kilis, Turkey. She and her brother Mohammed, centre, say they are determined to try smuggle themselves to Europe Show more

KILIS, TURKEY // A year ago, 24-year-old Syrian Ahmed Mustafa spent four days trekking through the cold and rain, determined to make it from Turkey to Greece and leave the refugee camp he likens to a prison behind forever.

His attempt failed when he was arrested by the Greek authorities soon after crossing the border, locked up in jail for a few days and shipped back to Turkey, where he remains today, determined to save up for another attempt.

On Friday, as the European Union and Turkey struck a deal that would see Greece return migrants who entered the country illegally to Turkey, Mr Mustafa did not seem concerned. He said he would still try to smuggle himself into Europe again – this time by sea.

“Even if they make the deal, the smuggling will not stop,” he said.

Mr Mustafa is not the only one who feels this way. Kilis, on Turkey’s border with Syria, is where many of the estimated 2.7 million Syrians in Turkey entered the country after fleeing their nation’s civil war. More than 100,000 refugees stayed on here, more than doubling the town’s population.

Many refugees are thankful for the support that Turkey has given them. Until recently, the country kept its borders with Syria open to those fleeing to the conflict, allowing in more refugees than any other nation. The Turkish government runs refugee camps that are widely hailed as some of the nicest in the world and provide hundreds of thousands of Syrians with housing, aid and other services.

But few see a future here. Dreams and ambitions have been dashed by a faltering economy as well as cultural and language barriers. Former university students now work menial jobs for low salaries. Children who should be in school spend their days begging for coins on the street. And families that once lived in spacious homes in Syria are now cramped into metal containers and crowded apartments. There is little hope for a good life in Turkey and serious doubt that Syria will be safe again in the near future.

For those who want to leave, the only thing stopping them is money.

Mr Mustafa used all his money to pay a smuggler US$600 (Dh2,200) for his failed journey last year.

He would have taken one of the rickety boats that illegally transport most refugees and migrants into Europe, but he does not know how to swim and feared the rough winter seas increased the chances of a vessel capsizing. So instead he found himself marching through the forest in a small group of Syrians, Chechens and Iraqis, with directions carved into tree trunks and pieces of clothing tied to branches pointing the way to Europe.

But as he returned to the refugee camp in Kilis, after his arrest, he promised himself he would save up enough to try the trip again.

Fawaz Khaddour, 51, has been in Kilis for three and a half years with his wife and three sons. Like most refugees in Turkey, they do not live in a refugee camp, meaning they incur costs such as rent.

His eldest son, now 22, was in university studying antiquities when the family fled Syria. The second-oldest, 20, was set to graduate from high school. Now both work as manual labourers and barely keep the family afloat.

Mr Khaddour would like to work too, but says there is no place for him in southern Turkey’s economy.

“Even for strong young men it’s difficult to find jobs. Nobody would hire me,” he said.

His sons have picked up Turkish, but he says the family simply does not have enough money to send them to university. Getting to Europe is the only way for them to continue their education and Mr Khaddour says his family is just trying to save up enough money to make the trip.

Like Mr Mustafa, Mr Khaddour does not believe the new deal between the EU and Turkey will succeed in stemming the flow of refugees.

“If there are smugglers, you can successfully enter Europe,” he said.

The only way Turkey could stop people like him from leaving, he added, was if they introduced movement restrictions on Syrian refugees and kept them away from its coasts and land borders.

Nearby, 37-year-old Fatima Ibrahim is the sole breadwinner for her family of seven and is also plotting an escape. She makes just $104 per month as a cleaner at an Islamic charity that also pays the family’s monthly rent of about $100.

Things such as the EU-Turkey deal mean little to the Ibrahims. Drowning in poverty, with several family members chronically ill and unable to work, border closures and international agreements hashed out in conference rooms in Brussels do not seem like insurmountable obstacles.

“We are almost dying here. We don’t care about the risks,” said Mohammed Ibrahim, Ms Ibrahim’s twin brother.

Short of smuggling themselves to Europe, the Ibrahims say they wish they could live in one of Turkey’s refugee camps so they could at least have more access to aid and not have the burden of living costs.

“In the camp at least there is a place to sleep without rent. There is enough food, aid and medical care,” said Mr Ibrahim.

But Mr Mustafa, the young man who attempted the overland trip to Greece last year, stresses that life in the camps is far from the perfect image some refugees have in their minds.

For him, home lies behind a metal turnstile – the kind you see installed at subway stations or a prison. The fences and soldiers make it feel like a cage. While he is now allowed to move out of the camp freely and keep a job doing data entry at a refugee medical centre in town, the authorities have restricted the movement of refugees in the past. At these times he would dig holes under the fence to win a short escape.

And while Mr Mustafa does not pay rent, his modest salary must stretch to support his parents, grandparents, wife and a newborn son. He knows his hopes of continuing to study theatre – as he was doing when the war began – will never materialise if he does not leave.

“A dog’s life in Turkey is better than a Syrian’s,” he said.