The logbook of Moria
This investigation was conducted in collaboration with Investigate Europe and Reporters United.
Editor: Elisa Simantke
It’s a cold morning in November 2018, when a care worker in Moria’s “safe zone” makes a revolting discovery. Fanis* walks into the guardroom to pick up a box of mandarin oranges for the children. Inside the box, among the fruit, he finds a dead rat.
It’s not the first time this has happened. “Serious problem with the rats, and danger of infusion of diseases to the beneficiaries and the personnel,” the care worker notes down in a hardcover logbook at the end of his shift.
This was not his only concern that morning.
The massive rainfall of the night before has flooded the guardroom, Fanis goes on to write; it is the room where the fridge and the heating unit are located. The rain has also seeped into ‘Container No 5’, which houses some of the unaccompanied minors in the camp.
Without silicone insulation and protection, he warns, the situation remains unsafe and puts lives in danger. “Major danger of electrocution,” the social worker writes, before he puts his pen away and shuts the notebook.
Text in English:
18/11/2018 Inside the box with the mandarin oranges we found a dead rat. Serious problem with the rats and danger of infusion of diseases to the beneficiaries and the personnel. After the torrential rain the space inside the guardroom flooded. Major danger of electrocution given that the fridge and the heating body are positioned low on the floor which has a finger of rain. When it rains, a pair of high plastic shoes and peculiar attention are needed. Container No5 of the beneficiaries is absorbing some water inwards. It needs insulation with silicone. Danger of electrocution.
A notebook that documents Moria’s horrifying story
Till the evening of September 8, 2020, when multiple fires razed it to the ground, Moria had been Europe’s most notorious refugee facility, synonymous for years with dehumanising and dangerous conditions for its thousands of residents.
Walking around the burnt periphery of the camp — which is located on the Greek island of Lesvos — in the aftermath of the fire, in what used to be the so-called “jungle” (a former olive grove surrounding the initial structure on which hundreds of makeshift tents were set up), one of the two authors of this article, reporter Stavros Malichudis, found a notebook. It was nestled in the ground, amid destroyed tents, burnt possessions, and soot that painted the area black.
The hardcover exterior of the book possibly helped it survive the fire. Its contents cover a time span of roughly six months, from November 3, 2018 to May 7, 2019.
It turns out to be the day-to-day diary that was maintained by eleven employees of the “International Organization for Migration”, an intergovernmental organization that is affiliated with the United Nations and was responsible for the so-called “safe zone” in Moria.
According to IMO, its team at the safe zone consisted of “child protection workers, psychologist, lawyers, caregivers, nurses [and] interpreters to assist children and cover all of their needs.”
The safe zone was where the unaccompanied minors in the camp lived under supervision, often for months, while they waited to be transferred to the Greek mainland or to other European countries. The fenced area was set up to provide these minors with better protection than was available in the rest of the camp. They were allowed to leave during the days, but should stay inside at night.
Moria’s unsafe living conditions have been reported extensively. At the beginning of 2020, Investigate Europe — together with the Greek investigative network Reporters United — published an investigation about the jailing of minor migrants who were made to live across European countries. As part of this investigation, IE also reported about the unsafe conditions in Moria.
Solomon has reported extensively on the precarious living conditions of Moria camp. In January 2020, Solomon published an investigation into the causes that led to “a dozen deaths foretold” in a refugee facility, in which its inhabitants admitted that “security here is a big issue”.
The entries of the notebook, discovered in the ashes of Moria, confirm the shocking reality that Europe’s most vulnerable asylum seekers were left to endure. Written from the perspective of the people who were there to protect the unaccompanied minors, it reveals their helplessness and inability to do so. Care workers, like Fanis, also used the book to raise an alarm and complain about the inaction of the authorities.
When the minors were outside of the protected area, almost anything could happen to them.
The logbook reveals the constant, never-ending technical insufficiencies, the deep psychological struggles that the minors experienced because of their confinement in Moria, and the dangers awaiting them in every corner — not just outside the safe zone, but inside it as well. It depicts a reality in which the danger of electrocution seemed not only to be embedded in everyday life, but was far from being the sole concern.
How we worked
The personnel signed the pages of the logbook with their names; most of the time, they used only their first names, but sometimes, they included their last name. The care workers referred to the minors by their full names. We are only publishing the initials of the minors’ first names, and have altered the names of the care workers, in order to protect their privacy. All quotes are attributed exactly as they were written by the social workers (translated from Greek), and all underlined words and punctuation follows the original text by the care workers in the logbook.
Constant darkness over the safe zone
Lack of electricity — caused by heavy rainfalls or other incidents — is an issue that often appears in the 190 pages of the notebook. Sometimes, the problem was not fixed for days.
An absence of electricity at night meant that the staff were unable to supervise the two sides of the barbed wire, which is what separates the safe zone from the rest of the facility. Checking who attempts to enter or exit the safe zone was an important task. After all, it was the caretakers’ task to make sure the minors were safe while they were in the safe zone.
So, on November 24, 2018, with a power shortage that has already lasted several days, the care worker on shift opens the notebook. It is the shift of Fanis, Maria and Giannis. Their tone sounds desperate.
“The inaction of the people in charge is resulting again in us not having electricity, and not having even one light inside and outside of the safe zone,” the note says. “Almost daily, we bring torches from our houses, and in conditions of full darkness, we try to see who jumps inside and who jumps outside of the safe zone. These conditions are unacceptable, and no matter the daily complaints of the care workers for long, the situation does not seem to be improving.”
The writers’ worry seemed well-warranted. When the minors were outside of the protected area, almost anything could happen to them.
Text in English:
[…] The inaction of the people in charge results to us again not having electricity at least in the small safe zone and to not having even one light inside and out of the safe zone (floodlights, electric pillars etc). We bring torches from our homes and in conditions of full darkness we try to see who jumps inside or outside of the safe zone almost daily. These conditions are unacceptable and no matter the daily complaints of the care workers for long the situation does not seem to be improving.
A Christmas note…
On the top of the page, a “Merry Christmas!!!” in big, clear letters stands out among other notes that appear to be hastily written. It is 25 December 2018 and S., a female minor who resides in the safe zone, has just passed a piece of paper with a name on it to the social workers.
It is the name of her abuser. The care workers jot the name down on the book with a pencil, among other notes made with a blue pen.
“It’s someone who beat her outside of the safe zone while he was drunk,” they add. “We called the police, the officer sent the patrol officers. Let’s see what will happen.” The entry is signed by Fanis and Dimitris — their resigned tone indicating that they don’t actually expect much action to be taken.
Earlier that day, a man had approached the entrance of the safe zone (it’s not clear from the log whether it’s the same man). While talking with the care worker, he accused the minor girl, S., of stealing money from him. The man had given her money on many instances, he claimed, “in exchange for things that can’t be described…”
Text in English:
25/12/2018 Merry Christmas!!! S. wrote this name for me. It’s someone who beat her outside of the safe zone while he was drunk. We called the police, the officer sent the patrol officers. Let’s see what will happen. Some Afghan man came to the door and in the discussion we had he mentioned that S. had stolen money from him many times in exchange for things that can’t be described… Signed by: Fanis, Dimitris
The social workers had sent him away, telling him that if someone had stolen money from him, he should go to the police, and that violence has no place in the safe zone. “He left satisfied…,” the notes say, leaving it unclear whether there were consequences for the man or whether the abused girl received the necessary help.
In related questions addressed to IOM from Solomon, Investigate Europe and Reporters United, IOM answered that “psychological support to children to prevent or address any arising conflicts” was granted under its supervision.
… and minors’ encounter with Moria’s reality
Sexual exploitation, as implied in the above incident, is one of the dozens of dangers that minors face from the moment they cross the fence to enter the safe zone. Other major problems include alcohol or drug abuse or getting involved in serious fights.
On the evening of April 6, 2019, male minor N. is reported to “have made inhalations of the liquid used to refill lighters, as usual, and started to act in a weird way”. After some time, he starts pelting stones at the containers, smashing windows. “The officer was informed, they came quite quickly, but N. jumped off the fence and left,” states the entry.
Text in English:
17:00 N. did the usual inhalations with the liquid of refilling lighters and started to behave weirdly. After a while he started throwing stones to the containers. He started from Amelias’s, didn’t hit one and went upwards, broke two windows of the room and one at the office of the social workers. The officer on shift was informed and came quickly but N. jumped and left. Signed by: Antonis, Maria
There are numerous cases reported in the logbook, sometimes on consecutive days, describing minors who return to the safe zone drunk or stoned. In some cases, they cause disturbances to the other residents or care workers, engaging in altercations.
“Fuck Moria!”
Sometimes, the care workers appear to be unable to handle a situation and need to ask for the intervention of the police present in the camp to calm things down.
“*We are still alive!!!*” a note signed by the care workers Dimitris and Iosif concludes on the night of December 6, 2018. “As Q., H. and A. came back from outside, they were probably drunk (maybe even high) and insulted us by saying ‘fuck you, fuck police, Moria’ etc.”
Verbal insults are not the only thing that take place that night. The logbook provides a detailed description of the events that happened before the police — after trying for 40 minutes — finally managed to calm down the minors, eventually taking the three boys to the police station.
“It’s nice to be crazy,” the minor named Q. keeps on shouting to the care workers. His outburst is translated into a number of damages: “There are 13 windows broken, we did not check the closets, but estimate three or four of them too, and rubbish bins are also among the broken items.
Text in English:
6/12/18 As Q., H. and A. came back from outside, they were probably drunk (maybe even high) and insulted us by saying ‘fuck you, fuck police, Moria’ etc. While crossing us I. said that he is crazy and went to his room. After a while he got outside, went behind the containers of the social workers and started to toss various objects to the windows. We went close to him and he started to throw stones to us telling us to leave. He was calling us names and was saying that he is crazy. We walked away for our safety, the young boy was out of control. He found an iron tube and started to smash the windows of the social workers’ [containers]. We contacted the officer on shift. In 20 minutes the walking patrol came. […] The Policemen were trying to calm him down for 40 minute. In the end they managed it after the special unit came too. A. in this period of time started to call names the policemen and tried to attack them, resulting in his arrest. A. while he seemed to be trying to calm him down, in the end he was inciting him and he attacked an officer too and he was also arrested. Finally, in the discussions that followed A. told me he would start smashing things too starting from IOM’s room. And S. [told] that it is nice to be crazy!!! We firstly went to the officer in shift of Moria and later to the Police Station of Mytilini to testify, where a sue against I. for damage to public property was made. The three stayed at the police station. The on call colleague was informed and came on time so one of the care workers could go to the Police station to testify. *We are still alive!!!* Possibly S. is also involved in getting drunk but not in the events that followed. Signed by: Dimitris, Iosif
Tensions among the minors
Previously, Solomon, Investigate Europe and Reporters United have extensively recorded that the overcrowded and dire conditions at the Moria camp fuelled tensions between residents of different ethnic and national groups.
In the winter of 2020, Investigate Europe and Reporters United published findings about the dire conditions endured by minor asylum seekers across the continent, including at Moria.
“They stand in line. There are queues in front of the toilets. There are queues to shower, often in cold water,” we wrote in our report. Swedish aid worker Patric Mansour, who had worked in Moria since the early launch of the camp, told us that the high levels of stress and frustration were created by an everyday life that was governed by “delays in all areas”.
And now that Moria has burnt to ashes – has the situation for the minor asylum seekers arriving on Lesvos improved?
“All the frustration is placed on the individual, who lives in uncertainty,” he said. “There is violence and crime. People fight for little things because of stress.”
“We don’t have anything specific to do during the day here and that’s what drives us crazy. That’s why people end up arguing with each other,” people who lived at Moria told Solomon when we visited Lesvos last February. Most of the people we met had witnessed violent incidents.
The logbook shows that minors were also affected by the violent conditions in the camp and violence is transcribed as part of everyday life. For example, on November 26, 2018 a fight among two boys leads to one more getting involved, and finally ends with one of them being taken to the doctor.
A week later, on December 2, 2018, two brothers attacked a third boy with an iron and a wooden pole. Incidents like the ones above are often mentioned in the care workers’ entries, with a tone that shows that they are not surprising.
Health issues in the safe zone
Sometimes though, the minors direct the violence towards themselves.
On November 6, 2018, the female minor S. — who would later report about the abuse — harms herself with a razor inside the girls’ showers, and is brought to the doctor. “The wound was deep,” says the entry. On March 8, 2019, another female minor, mentioned as A., also cuts herself and is brought to the local hospital to be seen by a psychiatrist.
Text in English:
I took a blade from beneficiary N., he was “stabbing” some bottles of water, he hid it from me and I found it. He didn’t react but he was only laughing. The specific person no matter what has happened remains in a place with unaccompanied minors and it’s a matter of time to create a serious trouble. The caregivers have mentioned that on time. […] Then, N. fell down and hurt his hand. M. cut herself. They were taken to the hospital. N. had plaster put on his hand, while M. remains at the hospital to be seen by a psychiatrist. On call colleague is with her. Signed by: Fanis
Other entries in the notebook similarly highlight the psychological traumas experienced by the children in the camp.
Intervention by the camp’s military doctor is often needed, and in a number of cases, minors have to be escorted to the island’s hospital. Even so, they do not always receive the help they need.
On the night of December 1, 2018, a baby who lives with her teenage mother in the girls’ section does not stop crying. “We took [the baby] to the military doctor of the camp, but he told us that he has no expertise on babies and that someone should see it tomorrow,” the care worker writes, adding that the baby could possibly have chicken pox.
That night, the work in the safe zone is once more affected by the power shortage, making it unable to provide the baby with any heating against the cold December night.
Text in English:
All night long S. and H. stayed with us in IOM’s room. The baby was cold and crying and it must be a little sick. We took [the baby] to the military doctor of the camp, but he told us that he has no expertise on babies and that someone should see it tomorrow. A solution should be given to the issue of electricity in safe zones. There is a very big problem now with the cold weather. The baby might have chickenpox. It should be seen by a doctor. […]
Repeated warnings fall on deaf ears
The log of December 7, 2018, is somewhat longer than that of most days, and includes two different kinds of warnings — spanning two pages — from Fanis, the social worker on shift.
Regarding events that took place the previous night — which resulted in police intervention — Fanis writes, “It is obvious that there is a great inactivity in the management and supervision of the section, despite our constant complaints and warnings. We will keep informing and working in unprecedented and unacceptable conditions, and let us all wish that there will not be more serious incidents with beneficiaries and colleagues.”
The care worker goes on to add that ten more Afghan boys were transferred to the safe zone the day before, and warns that transfers of this volume could fuel tensions in the small community of the safe zone.
“The ‘old ones’ feel that they need to prove something, and the ‘newcomers’ feel the pressure of the new society in which they have entered. Transfers of beneficiaries should take place gradually, as their number as well as their nationality matter, otherwise events like that of yesterday will continue to overturn the reality of the safe zone.”
But that is not the only concern the care worker expresses that day. Fanis notes that older boys, involved in acts of violence in the past, appear to remain in the safe zone, causing anxiety to the caregivers. In the logbook, they chronicle encounters with them, and warn of similar events happening in the future.
“In the least, it is problematic to see mothers with babies, unaccompanied young boys and criminal elements, even persons holding knives and makeshift weapons, living together for months in the same place. The role and the cause of existence for the safe zone needs to be redefined and this is a discussion that has to take place with no further delay,” the note concludes.
Text in English:
7/12/2018 Our fears for specific beneficiaries were confirmed after the event that took place in yesterday’s night shift. Specifically, on my shift I. was drunk threatening a passerby Afghan outside of the SZ (safe zone) close to the barbed wire. The event was reported in detail and despite this I. was remaining in the safe zone since 24/11. Yesterday this person created huge damages to the facility and only after the intervention of the Police was he taken out of the SZ. Today he was walking around the barbed wire and we got informed that he threatened personnel. It’s obvious that there is a huge inaction in the management and supervision of the structure, despite our constant complaints and warnings. We will keep to inform and work in unprecedented and unacceptable conditions and let us all hope that we will not have more serious incidents with beneficiaries and colleagues. (…) It’s at least problematic to see mothers with babies, unaccompanied young children and outlaws, even people holding knives and makeshift weapons at the same place living together for months. The cause and the role of existence of the safe zone needs to be redefined from deep and this is a discussion that needs to take place without further postponement. Signed by: Fanis
It appears from the logbook that the competent authorities did not take the required action. Incidents, including violent conflicts between minors, do not stop after this entry, but continue for as long as the book covers.
Answering the questions we asked, IOM stressed that they worked “in close coordination and under the guidance of the Reception and Identification Center (RIC)” which means that the responsibility for any important decisions lies with the Greek authorities. The Ministry of Immigration and Asylum did not respond to any of our questions.
On the day of the last entry — May 8, 2019 — there were 4,752 people living at Moria, even though its capacity at the time was only 3,100. The safe zone had a capacity of about 150 unaccompanied minors but in the time span of the logbook, there were between 300 and 600 living there.
Just three months after that last entry, on the night of August 25, 2019, another incident took place. Just like the care workers had feared, violence erupted. A 15-year-old boy from Afghanistan was stabbed to death in the safe zone.
No provision for unaccompanied minors in Moria 2.0
And now that Moria has burnt to ashes – has the situation for the minor asylum seekers arriving on Lesvos improved?
In the aftermath of the fire, Solomon was present on the island, providing on-the-ground reporting on the troubled conditions in which thousands of victims of the fire were left to endure for about a week.
After the destruction of the structure, the 400 unaccompanied minors that were then living in the safe zone of Moria were transferred to the mainland. According to the UNHCR, to date seven countries in the European Union have accepted 321 of them.
As new arrivals are happening in Lesvos again, it is unclear at this time where the unaccompanied minors arriving on the island will be accommodated.
The new structure, often referred to as “Moria 2.0”, has been set up in a former shooting range of the Greek army. The people who live there today are only provided with food once a day, and although eight weeks have passed since the camp was created, there are still no showers.
Residents told Investigate Europe, Reporters United and Solomon that they have to shower in the open, while parents bathe their children in the nearby sea. The families live in tents, without beds or solid foundation, which were flooded by the season’s first rain storms, while up to 100 single males share big tents, sleeping on bunk beds.
So far, there is no area in which unaccompanied minors can live separately from the rest of the population. As of publication, the Greek ministry has not responded to Solomon’s request for comment.
However, for the time being, in this new reality for the most vulnerable among people seeking refuge in Europe, there isn’t even a “safe zone” anymore.
—
* The reporting for this article was done in a collaboration between Investigate Europe, Solomon and Reporters United. Other media partners for this story include Tagesspiegel, Vice (Germany), openDemocracy, Publico, Mediapart, WP Magazyn, Klassekampen, infoLibre, Rheinpfalz.
Love in the time of plague
Trigger warning: suicide, self-harm, transphobia, homophobia
He still managed to find the time to sit his eighth grade exam, and even got through with a score of 98 percent. He shared the good news with mum and then went straight from school to throw himself in front of a metro train.
April 17, 2019
Centrum underground station, Warsaw. Security cameras register every move of the passengers.
The video shows the boy carefully tying his laces, first one shoe, then the other, looking around, and finally, with the train approaching, casually jumping under the rushing carriages.
The wheels broke his cervical backbone, pelvis, lower jawbone, burst his spleen and lungs.
A crowd of onlookers gathered, an ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital, then the police and other emergency services. Two hours later the situation at the station was under control. At the hospital, the boy was fighting for survival.
His name was Wiktor.
May 14, 2019
Less than a month later, security cameras registered the strange behaviour of another young boy.
Kacper kept strolling along the Wilanowska metro station in his socks. Train drivers had been instructed to be vigilant and to enter all stations in Warsaw at minimal speed. It was known that this boy had also known Wiktor and could throw himself under a train as well.
In the end, the boy was found by police officers. They ran up to him and quickly left the underground together.
“How did they meet, those two?”
“At the ‘Żwirki’, a few months back,” says Kacper’s mum. “They got very close there. And once out, they were inseparable.”
The ‘Żwirki’ is the children’s hospital on Żwirki i Wigury street in Warsaw.
September 2017, Wiktoria
Two years earlier, Wiktor was still called Wiktoria. At 13, she was just starting in a new school. She had to move; following school reform, her own primary no longer supported years 7 and 8.
Wiktoria was a sensitive type, she had an artist’s soul. At playtime, she wouldn’t take video clips or fool around with other kids, she’d read books. In class, she drew manga. In her free time, she edited anime videos. In a classroom context, people like her are toast in a matter of weeks. She would often hear other kids ask her: “Wassup, manga nut?” Derisive sneers followed her every step of the way.
She reassured mum that she did not wish to change school again, she would survive somehow. But by the end of the school year, she confided in another girl that she wanted to kill herself.
September 2017, Kacper
Kacper displayed the same traits as Wiktor: gentle and sensitive, certainly not for our time. That’s what his mother, Agnieszka would later say.
He also adored manga, disliked soccer, preferred art classes. He wore his hair long, had long eye-lashes, blue eyes, and moved differently to most boys. To other kids, he was ideal material for a class fall guy. Especially as their class teacher was his complete opposite: strong, fit, forthcoming, given to mocking his pupils’ weakness. This was no place for a boy who did not go for sport.
Agnieszka remembers well when she noticed changes in his behaviour. She was scared. When asked what was going on at school, he was evasive. He said his mates would laugh at him and tease him. But he would only tell her the whole truth months later.
At that time, she was regularly visiting the teacher, asking him to react. He was surprised, complained that Kacper did not like to kick ball with his mates. Once, he asked her directly: “Why won’t your son simply conform?”
June 2018, Wiktoria
Józefów near Warsaw. Bed linen bears the mark of a previous patient. It is dirty, smells of sweat, but it is the dried blood stains that make the worst impression. They will not allow you to forget where you are, even for a moment.
You will have to lie down, fall asleep, and wake up in this bedding somehow, and hold back revulsion.
Just after awakening, new daylight reveals the walls of the room. They are scribbled over with all manner of felt tips. Inscriptions proclaim: “I will kill myself tomorrow,” “Fuck life.” There are drawings, too, mostly of penises and gallows. And there are traces of blood everywhere, old, smudged, reaching up to the ceiling.
Bed in Józefów hospital
Warning: these images contain graphic content that some viewers may find disturbing
Iron rods stick out of several beds, which can be easily used to self-harm. They are dirty, full of microbes. Many patients use them to tear the skin on their arms, legs, calves. Hence the blood-stained bed linen and walls.
First thing, you pass the nurses’ room. It is a kind of a mini-admission. Here, parents fill in the forms, children deposit their belongings. Wiktoria left her shoelaces there, a pendant chain, and a watch. From there, you proceed down the corridor to your room.
But it is not always so. The ward is often overcrowded. At times, there are two or even three patients per bed. Then, children admitted freshly after attempting suicide are bedded on mattresses. Those are placed in the corridors – they are old, dirty, patched up here and there with grey wrapping tape, where they have been cut or torn. Some are too short for children, whose legs stick out onto the floor.
As you continue, you will notice peeling walls, broken furniture, and sideboards with doors missing. A stale smell prevails. Children potter around aimlessly, often with fresh cuts on their arms and elsewhere.
Walls in Józefów hospital
Warning: these images contain graphic content that some viewers may find disturbing
At the end of the corridor there is a bathroom, common for boys and girls alike. It is approached via a niche with open shower cubicles barely covered by torn curtains. In order to use the toilets, you need to walk past the showers. Even if children do not intend to peep, they sometimes do so unwittingly. In order to wash herself, Wiktoria always waited for her mum’s visit. Mother stood on the lookout to prevent other children peeping at her in the shower.
This is what it is like at the Childhood Psychiatry ward in Józefów near Warsaw.
It was Wiktoria’s first time there. She had confided in her school friend that she had suicidal thoughts, and the friend, Julka, told the class teacher. The teacher let Wiktoria’s mother know, while the school psychologist advised a psychiatric consultation. That was why Wiktoria ended up in Józefów.
“I remember the first night. I was so shattered that I had to leave her there that I returned to the car and started to cry,” says Justyna, Wiktoria’s mum.
June 2018, Kacper
The class dubbed Kacper a “poofter,” a “mental fuck-up,” “manga ponce,” “Japanese gay.” Once, boys surrounded him, dragged him to the loo and pushed his head down the toilet. Another time, they pulled down his trousers in front of other children. He endured hell daily.
On one occasion, classmates called him a “bi.” He did not understand. Back at home he asked mum what they meant.
Over time, he would understand better and rebel more. He would pick white and pink clothes from the wardrobe, use hair clips with his long fringe, put on pink necklaces. Once, he brought rainbow flags home. He began to identify with the LGBT movement. But he did not know if he was gay or not.
June 2018, Wiktoria
When confronted head-on with Józefów, parents often worry that time spent there will only aggravate the situation. But they bring their children anyway, they see no alternative.
Justyna discharged her daughter from Józefów after four days.
Earlier, Wiktoria confessed to her that she was scared of one of the boys. He would run around the ward, beat his head against the walls, shout obscenities. He hit other children aiming his fist at their shoulders, kicked, swore at patients and nurses. No one seemed to react. Wiktoria was afraid to go to the bathroom alone, even to the common room.
“Those were inhuman conditions. Like in a horror movie,” says Justyna. “Doctors didn’t find time so I couldn’t learn anything from them. It was all left to the nurses who didn’t pay any attention. Children were running down the corridor, fighting and spitting at one another,” she recalls.
Wiktoria was seen by a psychologist only once. Overworked doctors did not have time for more consultations. In the end, the girl implored her mum to take her back home. The doctor agreed and recommended psychotherapy as an outpatient.
September 2018, Kacper
At the start of the seventh grade, Kacper self-inflicted his first cuts, but only where no one would notice. He cut the skin in the groin with a razor blade, then washed off the wounds with water, pulled up his trousers and carried on.
Then he cut himself with a pencil sharpener blade during a school break. The teachers called an ambulance. Mother took him to the psychiatric ward at the Żwirki i Wigury hospital for the first time.
They arrived at mid-day, but waited eight hours to be seen. Kacper self-harmed again in the hospital bathroom. Agnieszka ended up forcing her way to the woman doctor on duty. But she threw up her hands: she had no time to see them. They returned home. Two days later, a private psychiatrist discovered that the boy had been nursing active suicidal thoughts. He issued an immediate referral to Józefów.
“When I walked in there, my first thought was that it could double up as a set for a movie about Belarussian or Ukrainian mental asylums in the ‘60s,” remembers Agnieszka. She saw what Justyna and Wiktor had seen before her: beds and furniture falling apart, dirty linen. She noticed bedbugs in many places.
A boy of nine or so kept running down the corridor in a straightjacket with a padded helmet on his head. He yelled and occasionally squealed like a cat. Then he would bang his head against the wall. The nurses stood nearby, unmoved.
“It is a double shock for a mother. You see how dreadful this place is, but then you remind yourself that all this time your child wants to kill himself. You swallow, you fight the tears,” says Agnieszka. “Kacper spent six weeks there. I will regret that to the end of my days.”
She can talk for hours about what she saw there. Once, she entered the ward and saw children collectively cutting themselves with sharp objects. No one was in charge in the common room, blood was dripping from their arms. She went to the nurses but heard: “Well, you can’t watch them all the time, they are like that, those punks.”
It is common in Józefów to refer to boys and girls alike as ‘punks.’ Threats are commonplace, too. Agnieszka remembers this scene: a girl standing by the nurses’ cubicle and crying: she wanted to call her mum. They kept ignoring her, but in the end one of them had enough and asked her irritably: “You want to go in the harness?”
“You’ll go in the harness” is the most common threat at the children’s ward.
Drawings in Józefów hospital
Warning: these images contain graphic content that some viewers may find disturbing
Another time, a male medic was going about his business on the ward. A strange looking type, he set his sights on a 15-year old and kept complimenting her incessantly, all in front of the nurses and other children. Kacper recalled that the girl constantly heard from him what a beauty she was, and that she was always favoured in every respect. The other children kept whispering that something was afoot between those two.
Yet another time, in the showers, the same that Wiktor was so ashamed to use during his stay at Józefów, a girl got a brutal beating from two other patients. Police arrived and an ambulance, but no one had reacted early enough.
November 2018, Wiktoria
In November, Wiktoria told mum that she wants a sex-change. Her mother recalls:
“She just came to me and told me that she did not feel like a girl but a boy. I hugged her. I assured her that what counted to me was only her happiness. But in reality I was worried all the time. Not about her decision but about how much suffering awaited her yet.”
The first stage in a metamorphosis from girl to boy unfolds on two planes.
To start with, Wiktoria asked her mum to buy her male clothes and underwear. She went to a hairdresser and ordered a short crop. Immediately, she dyed her hair dark. In a flash she looked like a boy.
And then she asked to be addressed by a masculine variant of her name. She became Wiktor.
Earlier, she had read about corrective gender surgery. She kept thinking of it for a long time. She felt alien in a female body. She knew that she was still too young for the surgery, but no matter, she would wait.
When he learned of his daughter’s decision, Wiktor’s father, who abandoned the family shortly after the baby’s arrival, said “she must be well fucked-up.”
Wiktor
November 2018, Wiktor
Wiktor is already in eighth grade. He arrives at school in his new format.
To his mates, he is still the same ‘manga nutter,’ but from now on also a ‘ponce’ and a ‘poofter.’ The class Facebook group is largely preoccupied with jeering at him. Soon, the prosecutor’s office would attempt to gain access to the account to search for evidence of persistent bullying of the boy. Eventually, Wiktor left the group on his own initiative, but before he did, he dramatically asked his school mates: would they wish for the treatment they were meting out to him?
Julka remained in the Facebook group. She for once was not particularly thrown by Wiktoria’s change into Wiktor. She implored him not to take other kids to heart, they were stupid and understood nothing. But Julka did show him the growing number of horrible posts. It was all getting to him. He asked to be addressed as Wiktor at school, but teachers stubbornly continued to call him out by his old name. He had enough.
He tried to kill himself on New Year’s Eve by cutting his veins. An ambulance was called in and took him and his mother to the Szaserów hospital to stitch-up his arm, and from there to the psychiatric ward at Żwirki i Wigury.
It was there that he met Kacper.
November 2018, Kacper
Kacper was discharged from Józefów with a diagnosis of an “improperly developing personality.” He returned home, but five days later tried to kill himself again. He swallowed the whole lot of his prescription antidepressants combined with a months’-worth of diabetic medication he found at home. An ambulance rushed him to Żwirki i Wigury. The initial prognosis was bad, but he was saved by a whisker.
December 2018, Wiktor
Wiktor was exhausted by constant humiliation at school.
Before he ended up at the ‘Żwirki’ and met Kacper, he had visited several doctors. He really came to like one psychologist and quickly found a common language with her. But she called Justyna one day and told her that her son contemplated suicide during their meetings. Under the circumstances, she explained, Wiktor ought to go for an assessment at the hospital over several months before she could start his therapy.
Right from the start, they had reservations to the psychiatrist, Dr Andrzej Towalski. At the first appointment he diagnosed depression and ordered medication. The visit was short and went tolerably well.
During the second appointment, when Wiktor looked already very much like a boy, Dr Towalski gawked at him like at a freak. He remarked that she could not go for sex change surgery anyway, because she was still a minor. And that she should better try snuggling-up to a man because it is “well pleasing.” Before parting, he also expressed hope that she might yet change her mind because she was such a beautiful and delicate girl.
He added a hand-written diagnosis on the patient’s record: “(Wiktoria) prefers girls.” He pressed his stamp under the diagnosis and prescribed another batch of medication.
December 2018 – January 2019, Wiktor and Kacper
Following his overdose of prescription drugs, Kacper remained at the ‘Żwirki’, the same place where no one had attended to him for eight hours after his previous suicide attempt. He was sent to the psychiatric ward in a state of utter exhaustion.
On New Year’s Eve, Wiktor joined him, soon after cutting his veins. That is when they met, in January 2019, four months before the incident in the underground.
January 2019, Wiktor and Kacper
Wiktor’s consultant at the ‘Żwirki’ hospital questioned Dr Towalski’s diagnosis. She did not think Wiktor suffered from depression. Instead, he presented with adjustment disorder and signs of personality development disorder.
Nevertheless, she prescribed seronil, an antidepressant, and in higher dose, too. Wiktor’s mum was not aware of that, she would learn only a few weeks later, when her son was discharged from hospital. Why was he given an antidepressant if he did not suffer from depression? She would never come to learn that.
Kacper was also on seronil during his stay at Józefów. And apart from that, also on ketrel. He was prescribed both drugs by a doctor. Five days after leaving the ward, the boy tried to kill himself. Wiktor, too, would be prescribed ketrel in a private clinic, before the attempt in the underground.
Both would be stuffed with the two drugs for a good few weeks.
Ketrel is a strong medication for adults only. It is used to treat schizophrenia and bipolar affective disorder. Administer it to children, contrary to the European Medicines Agency’s advice, and it can bring about woeful effects for life: robotic behaviour and attention problems even with most mundane tasks.
Seronil can be only administered for depression. Wiktor did not have it diagnosed. Research has shown that treatment of non-depressive adults with this drug doubles the risk of suicide. And what of children!
“The doctor told me only that he would sleep better after ketrel,” Justyna recalls.
Ketrel and seronil are routinely prescribed to children both on psychiatric wards and in private clinics in Warsaw. To give them to undiagnosed young patients or those not troubled by depression, and without proper monitoring, too, is to play with death.
January 2019, Wiktor
Wiktor did not have it easy on the ward. The nurses refused to address him as a male. They said they were too busy to be bothered with such nonsense. He got fed up again.
Agnieszka, who would often visit the ward at the same time as Justyna, remembers the following scene: she left her son’s room and went down the corridor. It was so crowded with children on mattresses that one could trip over them. One of them was Wiktor. Suddenly, Agnieszka heard a nurse shout: “Wiktoria, come here!” She looked at Wiktor and saw that the boy was irritated. Then she turned to the nurse and remarked confused: “It’s not Wiktoria, it’s Wiktor!” And the irritated nurse responded: “Wiktor, Wiktoria, you are all crazy.”
And she parted with: “This punk is a girl, I’m telling you!”
January – March 2019, Wiktor and Kacper
Early in the new year, both boys were discharged from the ward. They embarked on a new chapter in their lives, together.
Not a day passed where they would not be with each other. Wiktor fell in love with Kacper. Kacper was still too young to comprehend it fully. For the time being, Wiktor was his best mate, and that was fine.
A Warsaw cinema, Świt, ran a season of anime films, which they could finally enjoy together. They also went skating, or for walks along the banks of the Vistula with Justyna and Agnieszka. They met mostly at Kacper’s. They would mess around, watch video clips together. Once, they came across a doll of a fairytale character, which they called Zenek and giggled that it was their son. They were inseparable and laughed all the time. Just as kids would.
While visiting psychologists, Wiktor referred to Kacper as his boyfriend. He remarked that he had stopped self-harming for him. He also spoke of his most cherished dream: to marry Kacper one day, somewhere abroad.
February 2019, Wiktor
The toughest bit was the school. After leaving hospital, Wiktor appeared there only twice. Then he entreated his mum to let him skip it and not to be sent there ever again. Every time he returned from school, he thought of suicide.
Justyna arranged for individual tuition. At his first geography lesson, the teacher asked him if he should address him by his male name. Wiktor confirmed, grateful and in shock; it was the first time anyone from the outside world respected his choice.
It was different on the ward. Even the psychologist addressed him as Wiktoria. The same with doctors and nurses. But the geography tutor was a lone exception, to all the other teachers Wiktor remained a girl.
On Valentine’s Day, he could not restrain himself any longer . He cut his forearm and was taken to the Żwirki i Wigury hospital once again. But there were no beds available and he was not admitted. On his arrival, the ward was 180 percent full.
Justyna panicked. She took her son to the same psychologist with whom Wiktor had hit it off a few months earlier. She was surprised to see them again. She repeated it was too early for therapy and Wiktor had to go to hospital for assessment. The sooner the better, because he was in such a state that even a slight crisis, an argument with mum or Kacper, could lead to tragedy.
But there was no psychiatric ward in Warsaw prepared to admit Wiktor.
March 2019, Wiktor and Kacper
One day, late in the evening, Kacper went out to see Wiktor off to the metro station. He was not returning a long while and Agnieszka began to worry. She called his mobile, but heard only that he had to see Wiktor all the way home after all. Then he switched off his phone. Wiktor did the same. They were incommunicado.
Agnieszka and Justyna were petrified. They both jumped in their cars and drove to the same bus stop, close to Wiktor’s home. They found them there at last. Kacper was shaken, crying. He said that Wiktor wanted to jump under the train.
“It’s a nightmare for a mother to hear her child wants to kill himself. This is always shocking,” says Justyna.
It was at the end of March, and they went to Józefów once again. Justyna told the doctors her son wanted to throw himself under a metro train. But once again admission was refused.
In their written reasoning, the doctors stressed that Wiktor “had only one suicidal thought” and that during a consultation he denied that he nursed any plans to kill himself in the future. Besides, hitherto, he had managed suicidal thoughts “in a constructive manner,” while his latest self-harm cutting had taken place back in February, nearly a month earlier.
So, there was no reason to admit him for assessment.
Justyna desperately begged for her son to be admitted. She mentioned that Wiktor’s psychologist refused to continue with the therapy and advised hospitalisation. The doctor suggested changing the psychologist, since “this one could not handle the problem.”
She wrote on the patient’s card: “no threat to life or health,” signed her name, impressed her seal, and thanked them for the visit. She recommended further psychotherapy.
If only a doctor could be found to conduct it.
Justyna had a sense of foreboding. It is not possible to negotiate a prompt public health service psychotherapy appointment in Poland. But it is practically impossible to do so privately either.
Finally, they ended up in a private clinic in Warsaw. The doctor examined Wiktor and called in Justyna. He said he was helpless; during the consultation Wiktor had turned into stone. He refused to talk, did not answer any questions. Under the circumstances the doctor had to refuse undertaking psychotherapy.
Wiktor told Justyna that he would either go to the previous psychologist or none, because he trusted only her.
April 2019, Wiktor
Three weeks later he cut his throat with a razor blade. He reassured hospital doctors that he was in control of the situation.
He explained it had not been a suicidal attempt, he knew very well where the blood vessels were situated, biology was his favourite subject. He just did it because he had quarrelled with his boyfriend and was sad when Kacper would not reply to his texts for a while. But he had calmed down, because he knew that Kacper would soon forget the grudge. “I am sorry. I am long done with suicidal thoughts,” he told the doctors.
Justyna remembered the psychologist’s words: “Even the slightest argument may lead to tragedy.”
The throat-cutting incident happened in Kacper’s house, on the stairs, immediately after Wiktor had left his apartment. Indeed, they had quarrelled over something earlier. But Kacper suddenly had a new worry: his aunt, Agnieszka’s sister, died suddenly. He went to the hospital with his mother. The doctors confirmed his aunt’s death at the very moment when surgeons were stitching together a large wound on Wiktor’s neck.
“The hospital referred Wiktor to Józefów,” says Justyna. “But first they asked me: ‘Why wasn’t he admitted long ago?’”
They got there the third and last time. After a short interview with Wiktor, the doctors concluded that his self-harming was the result of an argument with a boyfriend. They saw no reason to take him in.
“I was desperate,” says Justyna. “I knew that Józefów was a terrible place to be in, but the main thing was to keep him safe until some other solution could be found. I was scared for him, so scared that something bad would happen.”
“And did they finally agree to admit him?” I ask.
“No. The doctor pronounced that I was being oversensitive and I should find more time for myself, join a fitness class or a gym. And that I should stop fussing so much over my daughter.”
April 2019, Wiktor’s mum, Justyna
“How would you describe the fear one experiences when one’s child is thinking of suicide?” I am asking Justyna.
“There is such a thing as a mother’s intuition. I was scared for him every hour, every second,” she says.
By April, she was even afraid to leave for work. She hid all the knives, pills and sharp tools around the house. She called Wiktor every half hour, on any pretext: would he check if there was milk in the fridge or just to chat. She was getting up in the night to peep into his room, checking for breath: was he asleep? She looked out for cuts on his arms.
April 17, 2019, Wiktor and Kacper
That day could not have been easy, either for Wiktor, or Kacper. Wiktor was sitting an English final exam at his primary, Kacper was going with mum to his aunt’s funeral.
Exams started at 9 am. Wiktor’s mum had driven him to school. Immediately after it ended, he texted her that he passed his English “likely with 100 percent.” He erred, but only slightly. Later, when the results were published, they showed Wiktor checking in at 98 percent.
At that hour, Kacper and his mum were already on their way to the funeral. Suddenly, the boy’s eyes welled up. A message from Wiktor appeared on his mobile. He wrote that he was “going somewhere to jump.” Kacper tried to call him, but Wiktor’s phone was not responding. He pulled mum’s sleeve, told her quietly he had to call Wiktor’s mum as soon as possible.
Agnieszka called Justyna, and Justyna called the police.
April 17, 2019, Wiktor
The officers went to Justyna’s, asked for Wiktor’s photo and sent out an alert all over Warsaw. They were to man all the metro stations, hoping to locate him before the tragedy would strike.
Justyna kept calling Wiktor. No signal.
They drove her to the Młociny metro station and suggested that she should take a train down town and try looking for her son as well. She agreed, it was a good idea. She wept.
On the metro train she suddenly heard an announcement: “Due to an accident at Centrum station, the train will terminate at the Dworzec Gdański railway station.” She was shaking, choking, closed her eyes.
She left the crowded train at Stare Bielany, ran to Kacper’s apartment block. Police came there as well to check whether Wiktor had not changed his plans and gone there instead. She saw the officers by the entrance, told them about the announcement on the underground.
They confirmed that “a young woman had fallen under a train” a while ago and was taken by ambulance to the Szaserów hospital. Justyna was required to go there immediately.
Kacper was at his aunt’s funeral, still unaware of what had happened. He could not concentrate in the church, expecting the worst.
Many people arrived late for the service. They apologised, explained they were late because there had been some accident in Warsaw and the underground came to a halt. Agnieszka received a text message during the mass. She could not hear the ringtone and would read it only later. It was from Wiktor: “Please, don’t worry about me anymore. Good bye :)”
Wiktor
April 19, 2019, Wiktor
Wiktor leapt in front of the train on April 17, 2019.
At 10:06 he wrote another text message, to Kaia, an online friend whom he had never met, but with whom he was very closed. He wrote: “I am going to kill myself. I am sorry. Thank you for everything, but I am not coping.”
At 10:52 he sent her a photo of the metro rail track. He jumped a short while later.
Despite extensive injuries, the boy fought for his life for two more days.
A surgeon who operated on him immediately after the incident said it was hard to explain how Wiktor could have survived his suicide attempt. They put him on a respirator in the hospital, operated on his spleen, made preparations to stabilize him. Justyna believed in a miracle.
In the course of a follow-up surgery, Wiktor succumbed to a vast haemorrhage. He died on April 19, a fortnight before his fifteenth birthday.
April 2019, Justyna, Wiktor’s mum
At the end of the month, Justyna received a letter from the District Court. She opened it and could not believe her eyes: it was a decision that, following Wiktor’s suicide attempt, she would be put under supervision. An official would visit her home and periodically check on her to see if she was taking good care of her son.
Justyna read the letter and wept. For several months she was fighting for anyone to take her son’s fate to heart. And when she lost him, this letter suddenly arrived.
She went to the court with Wiktor’s death certificate. Soon, a decision to close the proceedings was announced.
In June, another letter arrived from the court. This time it was more detailed, with personal data of the appointed supervisor and his visiting days to check how Justyna coped with bringing up her child.
She had no strength left to explain. Screw them.
May – December 2019, Kacper
“I was afraid to tell Kacper,” says Agnieszka. “I was horrified he could do the same. That stroll to the metro station, a month after Wiktor’s death, it was a sign of his longing.”
Kacper has not been at Wiktor’s grave yet. He is blocking out his death and usually cuts off any talk of it. But recently, he has had moments when he would start talking about him. Agnieszka still cannot tell whether these are moments of weakness, or the opposite. Then Kacper confides in his mum that he misses him a lot and thinks of him all the time. Once, he said that it was because of him that Wiktor killed himself.
Another time, he admitted that he did not like to be left alone at home. Because he then takes out all Wiktor’s drawings from the cupboard. He cannot stop himself when he is alone. He looks through them and cries. He is suffering, as you would suffer after the loss of the most treasured person.
July 2019, Dr Towalski
That summer, an investigation into Wiktor’s death started. The prosecutor called in Dr Towalski, the same doctor who had written earlier that Wiktor preferred girls, and who recommended sampling snuggling up with a man before sex change surgery.
He said Wiktor’s suicide was the result of introducing ‘gender ideology’ into schools.
In the Autumn, Justyna called the clinic to make an appointment with a psychiatrist. She needed tranquillisers. A nice-sounding receptionist explained that her old doctor had left the practice and all her patients were being taken over by a new psychiatrist.
She offered Justyna an appointment for March 2020.
With Dr Andrzej Towalski.
Prosecutor
Prosecutor Jerzy Mierzewski was chain smoking when we met the last time before this article appeared in print. As soon as he put out one, he pulled another from the packet, as if worried that his lungs would lose contact with tobacco.
Journalists know him as a true expert on evil. He was the one who locked up the Pruszków mafia, looked for the killers of Gen. Marek Papała, and it was he who discovered the establishment in Poland of US-sponsored rendering prisons where people were tortured. Now, he was in charge of an investigation into Wiktor’s death.
We meet in one of Warsaw’s coffee bars. There were no free tables in the smokers’ zone. The prosecutor shrugged, he would have to grin and bear.
“I cannot remember a case which would move me more on a human level,” he said for starters. “We are responsible for what has happened. We, adults. We are incapable of recognizing a young human in a child. We have no system of child care. We cannot even initiate a discussion on this! And even the greatest devotion will remain meaningless when hospitals run out of corridor places and, in the end, of doctors, too.”
He would probably have to drop the case. The law gave him no recourse to accuse doctors who refused to admit Wiktor to hospital. They did not because there were no places on the ward. The prosecution would have to extend to the whole of Poland’s psychiatry, or even the state itself. Also, homophobia would have to become a criminal offence.
“Our intolerance, lack of respect for other people’s peculiarities, and the growing cult of force – at some stage all of this adds up into a frightening technological sequence capable even of driving a young person to death,” said the prosecutor.
And added: “We are all guilty.”
Plague
In 2019, one of Poland’s newspapers appeared with stickers for readers to peruse, proclaiming a “LGBT Free Zone”. Agnieszka and Justyna watched these developments with an increasingly heavy heart. While Justyna was in mourning, Archbishop Marek Jędraszewski, one of the leaders of the Polish Catholic Church, kept repeating a mantra of a “rainbow plague.”
Wiktor is gone. Justyna lost her child. Kacper is 14 and has already come to know life’s darkest side, he met love in a time of plague.
Poland comes second in European rankings of childhood suicide. We are slightly behind Germany, but only because that country is twice as big as ours.
Data indicates that almost 70 per cent of LGBT teenagers in Poland think of suicide.
“We need to shout out about the state of Poland’s childhood psychiatry,” said the civil rights Ombudsman Adam Bodnar a month before Wiktor’s death.
Dr Andrzej Towalski refused to talk to the author of article. Hospital authorities in Józefów did not reply to our e-mail with questions.