Who Waits Will Rejoice
2021 - ongoing
Amara Kromah, 20, from Guinea, has lived in Europe since he was fifteen, but never as a free man.
In March 2019, he left Libya on board a dinghy to Europe with over another hundred refugees. The dinghy soon began to deflate. A Turkish oil tanker in the vicinity, the El Hiblu 1, was ordered by EU border management agency Frontex to rescue the passengers and take them to a safe harbour. Despite assuring those rescued that they will be taken to Europe, deep into the night, the crew attempted to return to Libya.
As the skyline became clearer, the refugees quickly recognised it to be Tripoli’s. Chaos erupted onboard as they began to protest in desperation and fear of being returned to the country’s notorious militia-run detention centres. Unsure how to handle the situation, the crew asked Amara, who knew English, to act as a translator. Two other migrants on board; Kader and Abdalla, also helped mediate and negotiate between the passengers and crew.
After much pleading and explaining, to the dire relief of those on board, the captain turned round and travelled towards Europe. However, as he approached Malta, he contacted the authorities and informed them that the ship was no longer under his control. Upon arrival in Valletta, Amara, Abdalla and Kader were arrested and charged with nine crimes, including terrorism and hijacking, which carry life sentences. The charges also played into the media narrative that took hold, which painted the three as hijackers. Amara, Abdalla and Kader became known as the El Hiblu 3 and international human rights organisations, including Amnesty International and Sea Watch, have been campaigning for the charges to be dropped ever since.
Amara, 15 at the time, was imprisoned until November 2019, and since then, has been living life on bail, moving through limbo created by Malta’s excruciatingly slow criminal justice system, one of the worst in Europe, where pending trials date as far back as 2008.
According to the European Commission for the Efficiency of Justice, “court and public prosecution services efficiency remain one of the key pillars for upholding the rule of law…[and] …enables citizens… to enjoy their social and economic rights and freedoms.” What is the human impact when this pillar does not stand upright?
Amara lives in an extraordinary and Kafka-esque state: feeling himself perceived as a terrorist, and buckling under the unknown of where his fate lies – in fulfilling his dreams of living a decent life in Europe, or within the walls of Malta’s prison cells. This slow wheel of justice becomes an injustice in itself. However, Amara carries on his days and has built a life for himself, despite the situation he’s in.
Between 2021 and today, with access and trust built over time, through photographs and interviews, my project slowly follows Amara through this overwhelming situation, which makes him feel imprisoned both mentally and physically.
Through the work, I aim to firstly provide a human angle to the story of a person who has been dehumanised by the system and a target of the weaponisation of law, while also exploring the underreported issue that is the impact that slow justice systems have on those entangled in them. Amara’s story shows the impact such systems have by zooming in on an extremely vulnerable member of society; a minor/youth, and an asylum seeker.
Photos of a young olive tree – which lies around the corner from Amara’s home, in a garden close to the mosque and the prison – were taken on dates of court sittings, and aim to act as a reminder of the passing of time. They have been printed and scanned to resemble the presentation of evidence in court sittings.
The project also acts as a curious point of entrance into the community of West African migrants, living at the frontline of migration from Libya, within an increasingly politically-racist Europe, a decade after the "migration crisis".
"Sometimes I forgot, and sometimes when I’m playing some music or doing some exercise, sometimes I forgot. If I’m having conversation with my friend, my roommate, sometimes I forgot. But in ten minutes it comes back again. It has to come back, because it’s something that I can’t forget."
