News that brought hope to many Syrians worldwide – including, in Greece – was the fall of the Assad regime from which so many suffered for decades. Hope for an end to the horrific violence, for stability and security. For a new, better future. Like many European countries, Greece is ‘freezing’ the procedures of the thousands of Syrians awaiting a decision on their asylum applications. What this will mean for capacity in the refugee camps is easy to predict. What this means for the people affected too: not being able to move on, having no idea what follows and where your future will be, is a heavy appeal on one’s ability to maintain hope. Hope for a future and a place to come home to, without knowing where that place will be.

Hope is an enigma. The hope needed to flee in the hope of finding protection and safety elsewhere. The hope needed to get into a shaky, unseaworthy boat in the hope of reaching the other side safely. The hope for a doctor to help and provide treatment when you are sick. The hope for someone tending to your wounds. The hope for sleep after many sleepless nights. The hope that there will be a safe place for you somewhere, someday.

Last week, Greek fellow organisation Refugee Support Aegean (RSA) published a report on the situation in the refugee camps on the Greek islands. Over the past year, RSA documented arrivals, occupation of the refugee camps, food, access to drinking water and sanitation, hygiene, access to healthcare, the asylum procedure and restrictions of freedom. Based on facts, figures and testimonies, the report paints a naked, realistic picture of the reality people are encountered with when they arrive in Europe. Not a hopeful read, but recommended.

We recognise the picture painted in the report. The ‘gradual collapse of services’ as RSA aptly puts it. In all, really all, areas, we as Europe are seriously failing. The report reflects what we see, hear and experience every day during our work on Lesvos, and what we saw and heard on Chios and Leros during our visits last month. After Chios, in late November, we also visited Leros. We visited the camp and spoke to a range of people involved. A very different picture from Lesvos and Chios: a heavily secured, closed camp, with fences everywhere, including inside the camp. Very limited freedom of movement, even less visibility and contact with the outside world for the people staying in the camp. This is compounded by the fact that Leros is the only island where no humanitarian organisation has a presence. In our exploration of the possibility of starting the provision of care here,  we are collaborating with other organisations. Because besides a glaring lack of health care, all other forms of assistance are also absent.

We will start 2025 with hope. Hope and confidence that we can make a meaningful contribution in a context that often inspires despair. We see what the care we provide, with the help of so many volunteers every year, means to the thousands of people on Lesvos. We know that on Chios and Leros the need is even greater. We hope to start working in the first quarter of 2025 on Chios and possibly later in the year on Leros.

We continue to hope for that other reality, that is really possible. We continue to do what we can to bring that other reality closer. For everyone. Because every human being counts. We continue to work for and in solidarity with all those people in whom hope and despair battle each other daily.

The Boat Refugee Foundation team wishes everyone peace, hope and a place to come home to in 2025.