தொலைக்காட்சி

தொலைக்காட்சி

woensdag 8 februari 2017

ஒரு இலங்கை அகதியின் நிலை!

Nobody knows exactly, but the number of migrants staying in the Netherlands without a residence permit is estimated to be in the tens of thousands.
Tavish (not his real name) is one of them; he is so for twenty five years. He migrated from Sri Lanka to Germany in 1992, after which he moved to the Netherlands in 2000.
Undocumented migrants' plea to get admitted residency
Undocumented migrants' plea to get admitted residency
During the quarter of a century that he's here he's seen many laws and policies change. Contrary to his two sisters, it never turned the tide into his favour.
"Not yet...", Tavish says.


Tavish must be the most optimistic person I met in a long time. Over a cup of tea somewhere in downtown The Hague he broadly sums up his life as an undocumented migrant.

"I can still cook you a decent Chinese meal."

A life that started in 1992 when he fled the Sri Lankan civil war that was going on since the 1980s. He arrived in Germany where he applied for asylum and eventually stayed for eight years.
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Since Sri Lanka gained independence from Britain in 1948, relations between the majority Sinhalese and minority Tamil communities have been strained. Rising ethnic and political tensions led to the formation and strengthening of militant groups advocating independence for Tamils. The ensuing civil war resulted in the deaths of more than 100,000 people. The civil war ended in 2009. One-third of Sri Lankan Tamils now live outside Sri Lanka. While there was significant migration during the British colonial period, the civil war led to more than 800,000 Tamils leaving Sri Lanka, and many have left the country for destinations such as Canada, India and Europe.
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Although not granted a residence permit, he liked that period. He found a job in a Chinese restaurant where he soon climbed the ladder from dishwasher to the chef's assistant.
"I can still cook you a decent Chinese meal", he says with pride when I put Tavish to the test. He talks about Chinese sub cuisines and traditional aspects of Chinese food, as if he was born Chinese. "And I got paid well", he adds. During the asylum procedure in Germany migrants are legally allowed to work.
In 2000 Tavish moved to the Netherlands, trying to follow in his two sisters' footsteps who successfully applied for asylum. Eleven reception centres, one alien detention facility and an expulsion to Germany later, he's still here. Still with no papers though.

"I was so close to a 'legal' life."

"If I wouldn't have gone to Belgium for two months in 2006, I would have had a residence permit by now", Tavish explains. The government of the Netherlands decided in 2007 to put into effect an amnesty provision - 'generaal pardon' - legalising a large group of rejected asylum seekers who had been in the country for a considerable amount of time. 
Tavish complied to all criteria but one. He wasn't here uninterruptedly for more than six years. "I was so close to a 'legal' life", Tavish says with a soft voice. Twenty-seven thousand other migrants were more lucky.
Tavish pays regular visits to his two sisters who live in other parts of the country. He increasingly depends on them financially, since it became harder to find a job in the informal economy. "It used to be easy to find work in a restaurant as an irregular person, but this has changed", Tavish says. Over the years the police put more focus on fighting illegal employment and labour exploitation. He now does domestic work sometimes, but that source only is not sufficient for him to survive.
"I'm not afraid to get caught by the police", Tavish replies when we spot a police car in the distance. Not knowing why, he recalls a police officer knocking on his door one day: "He asked me if I had a weapon in the house. I said: yes, some knives. Show me where they are, the officer said. Please follow me to the kitchen, I said". Tavish is a bold and light-hearted soul indeed.

"It was hard to lose my father and not being able to attend his funeral."

It doesn't mean he's worry-free. In his early fifties, he sometimes feels the pressure to make up his mind: continue life under the radar or start anew in Sri Lanka. "I could try to make use of my experience and start my own small Chinese restaurant", Tavish says when we talk about the option of return. "And my mother is almost eighty years old now, so... It was hard to lose my father a few years ago and not being able to attend his funeral".

"But I still hope for a new 'generaal pardon' soon."

He then quickly changes the subject: "But I still hope for a new 'generaal pardon' soon". Tavish mentions a website where people can give their support by signing a petition. He explains that he rather not asks residents with a migration background for their support: "They are not so much in favour of it, fearing it's bad for their own position".
Tavish may think it's every man for himself, it didn't make him cynical. After saying goodbye, he jumps on his bike and drives away in the grey morning, knowing there's a sun behind those clouds.

IOM in the Netherlands is in daily contact with migrants in different circumstances. Through its outreach activities across the country IOM takes note of their challenges and informs them about the various IOM support programs.
For more information about the IOM support programs in the Netherlands please follow the link below.

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