The story of the nameless child: an agonising experience from Semera concentration camp

Ataklti Legesse

Background information

In December 2021, I learned from reliable sources that there were two concentration-style camps in Afar. Since then, numerous attempts to gain entry to the camps—specifically the Semera camp and the Agatini camp—and conduct interviews with the Tigrayans held there have been made. With the assistance of Afar people who were sympathetic to the suffering of the innocent Tigrayans held there, covert investigators had made repeated fruitless attempts to interview detainees at the two camps.

When I met with family members of detainees who had been able to leave the camps by bribing officials, a breakthrough was made. These individuals disclosed details regarding the precise number of Tigrayans at the Semera camp. Many persons I spoke to prior to my journey told me there were over 10,000 detainees at the Semera camp. When I arrived there, this was verified. In December 2021, Afar security forces had brutally detained Tigrayans. They were abducted from Abala and other locations in Afar. The inhumane confinement has prevented them from seeing their immediate family members either inside or outside the camp. They are forbidden from leaving, even to seek medical attention. In the concentration camp, residents live in cramped, overcrowded structures utterly unfit for habitation. The camp lacks sanitary facilities. The food and non-food aid provided by government and humanitarian organisations is woefully insufficient, particularly in light of the fact that food supplies have been delayed, putting children and others in need of special assistance in a precarious situation.

To the Semera concentration camp

After several failed attempts, I finally made it to Semera, Afar. I had long been aware of the suffering and misery experienced by Tigrayans detained in two concentration-style camps through prior knowledge and reports. It took me some time after my arrival to locate middlemen who could facilitate access to the camps. They claimed that visiting the Semera camp was easier than the Agatini camp. So we decided to go to the Semera camp. The intermediaries served as translators and gave kickbacks to the security guards. Within five days after my arrival in Semera, they had arranged everything.

To go to the camp, we took a bajaj from my hotel.

As I got closer, my heart began to race. It is a sizeable camp that had once been a university. The entrance smelled bad when I got there. At the gate, security guards gave me explicit orders not to use a camera and not to record any images or films. I nodded in agreement, but I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to obtain credible proof and expose the desperate plight of Tigrayans in the detention camp to the world. I was determined to record or take pictures in whatever way possible. It was perilous, but I convinced myself that the lives of the thousands of Tigrayans held there were more important.

Entry clearance – an agonising experience

There are two divisions at the camp: Section One is for women and children, the other is for men. Section One is next to the gate. When I arrived, I saw many women and children running for cover from the heat. On that day, the temperature rose to 50℃. It was dreadful. The heat was making it difficult for children to breathe. Some were being bathed by their mothers, who tried to cool them by drenching them with water. The sight of youngsters battling for their lives was terrible. A few meters away from me, amid all the commotion at the camp, some mothers began sobbing.

Despite not understanding what was happening, I headed in the general direction of the commotion. I found a young woman who had just passed away when I got to the site. Mothers were wailing with grief. I was at a loss for words and actions. I lost control and simply started crying. I had never seen a dead body, but I was there minutes after the woman passed away. Mothers everywhere were sobbing. I could hear the men in Section Two weeping after hearing what had happened.

I cried uncontrollably for about thirty minutes. I had no idea what to do. A young woman, perhaps my age, approached me in the midst of the chaos and made an effort to comfort me. She would not tell me the name of the deceased when I asked her about it. But when she revealed that the woman had left a two-months-old baby behind, I was overcome with despair and sorrow, and passed out due to the intensity of the emotions. When I sensed water on my skin, I awoke. Regaining consciousness, I opened my eyes to see that the young woman had poured water over me.

Picture 1: the unnamed infant of two months who lost his mother

She gave me a look filled with sadness, as she motioned for me to stand. Even thereafter, I was unable to stop sobbing. In broken Amharic, she commanded me to stop sobbing and “man up”, unaware that I am of Tigrayan descent. I told her to converse with me in Tigrayan. She was perplexed; I noticed her mood shifting. I promised her I would explain later how I had got inside the camp and what I was doing.

“I want to photograph the deceased woman and her baby. I want to photograph other people as well,” I explained. “But if the security personnel catch me taking pictures, I might be killed or imprisoned. Please take some pictures for me.”

As she regarded me with trepidation and terror, she rolled her eyes suspiciously. She did not know me; I could be a Tigrigna-speaking government spy. Her fear was understandable. At first she was hesitant but eventually gave in. She took my phone and went away. I then began to circle the camp. For almost two hours, crying could be heard. The women requested that some males from Section Two be sent to assist in burying the deceased. But the security guards angrily ordered the women to dispose of the dead in the landfill.

“My God! Landfill!” I yelled. It was being said, and I was a witness to it. If you pass away in a concentration camp, a proper funeral, it seems, is not permitted. My subsequent conversations with Tigrayans in the camp confirmed this. I requested to be taken to the landfill, and they showed me. We went to the fence’s western side and found a mountain of waste there. One of the women told me that 20 women and 11 children had been buried there. The bodies of the deceased are simply dumped in the rubbish. I remembered the over-powering foul smell when I had arrived at the camp. It had come from this location, I now realised. When we noticed a security officer from a distance, we hastily departed the area.

Many questions filled my thoughts. How could this have happened? What crime did these Tigrayans commit to be treated like that? Why is there no action being taken by the international community to assist these people?

As the questions swirled around in my mind, I continued to move about the camp. Some of the people I saw were asleep, others were awake: children, mothers, young women. Their bodies have been weakened by the oppressive heat, and there is nothing to shield them.

The young lady who had taken my phone returned it to me, as I was exploring the camp. She told me she had taken pictures of the infant, but not the mother. She had tried to take some pictures, but had not been able to get past the crowd of women who had formed a circle around the deceased. I thanked her, and offered to reward her bravery with money, but she refused.

When one of the security guards approached me and ordered me to go away at once, my investigation was cut short. I would have preferred to stay longer and get more information, but I had to do as he said. I was very concerned that my phone would be searched, as soon as I got to the gate. I am all too aware of what would happen if the photos were discovered. Fortunately, they did not look through my phone. The images, courageously taken by the young woman, convey a message that words cannot express.

Picture 2: a woman sobbing as she observes her child passing out from the intense heat
Picture 3: Due to the heat and lack of food, mothers and children are on the verge of passing away.

My attempt to visit Agatini concentration camp, however, remains unsuccessful for security reasons.