Short Wave - Searching For A New Life

Episode Date: November 15, 2022

Today, we pass the mic to our colleagues at All Things Considered to share the first piece in their series on the impact of climate change, global migration and far-right politics. They begin with the story of Mamadou Thiam, a Senegalese man living in a temporary shelter created by the United Nations. He is from a family of fishermen, but floods have destroyed his home. In the past when there was flooding, people could relocate for a few months and then return. But more flooding means leaving may become permanent.See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for sponsorship and to manage your podcast sponsorship preferences.NPR Privacy Policy

You're listening to Shortwave from NPR. Hey there, shortwavers. Today, we've got a guest who's voice. I'm guessing you will recognize Ari Shapiro from All Things Considered. Hey there, Ari. Hi, Aaron. Thanks for having me on your podcast. Yes, we're delighted to have you here to tell us about a big project that you and your team are working on.

You just got back from overseas. Tell us about it. Yeah, this is actually the biggest project I have ever done as a host of All Things Considered. We were overseas for three weeks. in three countries, Senegal, Morocco, and Spain. And our goal was to connect three major stories that we often treat as separate issues that are actually very connected.

Those three stories are climate change, global migration, and the rise of the political far right. So we wanted to show how these things are feeding each other, how these trends are each playing into the other, and how this is really kind of one big story rather than three individual ones. And so you actually trace this migration route that climate migrants are tracing from Senegal up through Morocco to Spain.

This is a story that is playing out around the world from Central America to South Asia. Why did you choose to focus on this route through Western Africa? Well, you put your finger on it exactly, that while there are unique circumstances in every place with every person, the trends are happening all over the world. And frankly, the West African route is one that we had not. heard much about in the coverage. I mean, one concern is that in a lot of places where people are fleeing climate change, it can be very difficult to operate because of oppressive governments or because of violence. And in West Africa, things are pretty open. People are pretty eager to talk.

And so we found a lot of people who were eager to tell us their stories. When we got to Morocco, it was a bit more uncertain as authorities stopped us, questioned us, and made it clear they were not happy with our asking questions about migrants. But that's part of the story as well. Can you give us a little sample of some of the other stories that are included in this series? Yeah, I mean, one of the places that was so interesting. When I say we visited Morocco, there is a really unusual place that is actually a part of Spain surrounded by Morocco and the sea. The city of Malia is what's known as a Spanish enclave city, and it is surrounded by this fortified fence. And people from all of our sub-Saharan Africa come to Morocco, and they try to jump this fence to enter Europe.

And Morocco at the urging of Europe is cracking down on migrants trying to keep them out. And so it's a very unique place, a very dangerous place. A lot of migrants died back in June trying to jump the fence. We talked to some people on both sides of that fence. And I don't think there are many places in the world quite like it. Today on the show, Ari and his team traveled to Senegal for the first report in a series exploring how rising ocean levels and worsening floods are reshaping life in Western Africa. and politics in Europe.

I'm Aaron Scott. This is Shortwave, the Daily Science podcast from NPR. At the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, the city of San Luis Senegal is sandwiched between the river and the sea. It's an ancient fishing town, a UNESCO World Heritage Center. During colonial time, San Luis was Senegal's capital. Today, it's steadily shrinking under rising seas. This is where we begin an epic journey.

From Senegal to Morocco to Spain, tracing a line that connects three of the biggest stories of our time, climate change, migration, and the rise of far-right political leaders. To understand that global story, we need to start local, with a grandfather named Mamadu Chiam. He carries himself like a community leader, an elder, which he is. As a child, he was raised in a family of fishermen. Every day when his mother made lunch, she would send young Mamadu to fetch his father from the shoreline.

Even if our mom hadn't started cooking the food, because the sea was very far from the houses, by the time you came back from calling your dad to have lunch, the lunch was ready. Nowadays, God has pushed the sea up to our houses. Climate change destroyed many houses. This old man no longer lives in the home that his parents built. He no longer lives in a person. permanent home at all. We no longer have the cool, fresh air we used to have from the sea.

He sits in a temporary shelter built by the U.N. It's a camp called Jogop. Hundreds of people live here. All of them displaced by rising seas. Mamadu leads their community organization. When I ask, if he misses his former life as a fisherman? Of course, he says. The camp's landscape is uniform and monochrome.

The flimsy plastic walls of the cookie-cutter buildings are the same tan color as the sand that surrounds them. The structures sit on gray concrete blocks in an orderly grid. These homes have no running water or electricity. Goats forage for any small nub of greenery. This place feels miles from the ocean, and it is. Some of the men here still catch a bus every day to go fishing at 4 a.m. They pay a bus fare they can't always afford. They tell us it feels insulting, having to pay to get to water that used to be at their fingertips.

Khadish saw as Mamadu's wife. It's really strange because for generations we used to live near the sea. Fishermen, kids, they only know the sea. We don't know anything else but the sea. She sits in the sand with her daughters and grandchildren pouring tea. When I was a child, every morning we used to go to the sea to swim and to play, hide, and seek. Our kids nowadays won't have the opportunity to do that. There's an expression in Wolof.

Water doesn't leave its path. It means once water decides where it wants to go, there's no stopping it. Her ancestors talk about that, people who passed away a long time ago. Today, if you go and wake them up, they'll tell you, Look, we had predicted this. Khadisar's ancestors also experienced floods. The water would come, and everyone would relocate for a few months. Before, when the sea rose, our ancestors used to go somewhere else until it went back,

and then they'd go back to their houses. Today, it's still happening. But your ancestors left and returned, do you think you will be able to return? I don't think so. sea is still there. Climate change means weather events that used to be rare are common. Floods that happened once every century, now arrive once a decade. There's no going back, and it's getting worse.

Kids at this camp used to attend a school that faced the sea. It was destroyed in the flood. So kindergarten principal Ahmadun Jai is raking the sand before the first day of school here at Jogh. These kids, they're used to swimming and playing. That's what they know. But here, there's no water, no river, no sea. When a kid says to you, why did we have to leave our home? Why did we have to leave the sea?

What answer do you give? The first thing I tell them is that there was a catastrophe. Your house has been destroyed by the sea. We step inside the classroom tent, and it's sweltering. It's very warm inside, but on the walls I can see somebody has colored in, a Santa Claus, and then there's an alphabet on the wall. I'm trying to imagine being a child who spends all day playing in the sea, and suddenly coming here where you are surrounded by sand,

and you were sitting in this school where it's very hot, and you're being told to learn, it must be so jarring. Yeah, it's difficult. But whatever situation these are, kids find themselves in, they can adapt to it. I wanted to know what life was like before the catastrophe, before the waters rose. So I asked the community leader Mamadu Jam to take us back to the house that he abandoned. And he agreed.

We reached the community of Gandhar. If I expected a cordoned-off disaster area, it's the opposite. There's a cacophony of life here. In contrast to the camp's orderly tan monochrome, here, way, way. Waves crash, bird's wheel, wind blows. A pelican stands in the road. Fishing boats in rainbow colors line the shore, and the smells of fish, salt, and cooking fires mingle in the air. Mamadu points. This is where the edge of his house used to be. Now it's rubble. He leads us back to a room that's still standing. The deep blue walls are stippled with white and green where saltwater

and wind have peeled away the paint. I was born in this room. And now? Now what is this place? It's the sea. The sea was right up to here. Tell me what you think as you stand here. What is in your mind? In this life, a person is only linked with his origins, something you inherited from your parents. When you lose it, you lose everything. He'll never forget the day the water arrived.

Yeah, like it was today. There was no storm, just a very high tide. When you were in the house and the water was coming in, can you show us how high it was? The water was up to your hips. I was afraid for the children and the women. I was trying to save them. When all the children and the women were rescued,

that's when I started being afraid for myself. Many of the houses on this street were destroyed. A younger man named Amman. Sam Satu Fall has rebuilt some of the walls in his family's house by tying fishing rope around plastic panels from the UN camp shelters. I did all this myself because the sea made the walls fall down. Most of his family has abandoned this neighborhood for the camp, but he stays here at the edge of the water.

He is a fisherman who sold his fishing boat a year ago. He's decided there's no future form in Senegal. Going to Spain is the only way for me to solve all my family's problems. I tried many times, but every time my spiritual leader said, no, it's not time. He has a bag packed ready for when the time is right. He shows it to us. And it's actually a bucket with a tight lid. In this bucket with a lid, there's basically one T-shirt, waterproof top and pants,

and then religious beads. And that's it. You start a new life, and that's all. you carry. His six-year-old daughter and Daya nozzles up against his legs. Your daughter has been close to you this whole time. You clearly love her very much. Will it be difficult for you to go to Spain

and not see her for a long time? Yeah. I named her after my mom. It's true. I love her very much. The problem is I'd rather travel and send money back home. instead of staying here and seeing the misery here. When you imagine your life in Spain, what do you think it will be? My dream is to work hard and give money to my kids and my mom so she can at least have food for a month. Because ever since I was born, I've never seen my mom have money for a full month.

He's 37 years old. I ask if he still has money for the journey from the fishing boat that he sold a year ago, and he says, no, no, I won't have. have to pay. Because I'm a fisherman, I understand the sea. I have useful skills for a journey like this. So, will you be the captain of the boat? Usually I'm the captain of the boat, so I might be the captain. This is the great responsibility of so many people's lives in your hands. Yeah, I'll treat them all like myself. We have the same needs. If I am successful, everyone, is successful. But if not, we all fail.

When he sold his boat a year ago, he explained to his children that he was going away, maybe for a very long time. By now, he thinks they've forgotten. But he doesn't forget it for a minute. He says when his spiritual advisor tells him to go, he will leave the drowning city of San Luis. He looks out at the crashing waves and says, it could even be tonight. Over the coming weeks, our journey leads us to Morocco. and on to Spain, to see how these dreams of a better life compared to the reality of global migration in an age of xenophobic politics.

Everybody who leaves and goes to Europe on a boat, there's a moment when they wish they hadn't. That was Ari Shapiro. The radio story was produced by Noah Caldwell and edited by Matt Ozog and Sarah Handel. Our episode was produced by Rebecca Ramirez and edited by our senior supervising editor, Giselle Grayson. The audio engineers were Neil Tewald and Gilly Moon. I'm Aaron Scott.

Thanks for listening to Shortwave from NPR.