Located in the heart of Serbia, Belgrade serves as a stopover for exiles on the Balkan route. But in the capital, nothing, or almost nothing, has been planned to accommodate the hundreds of Syrian, Afghan or Moroccan migrants who pass through it every day. For these people in search of a better life, two solutions: an overcrowded camp, or the streets and parks of the city. Marlène Panara, special correspondent in Belgrade (Serbia). Achraf takes a small pinch of tobacco from the plastic packaging. Carefully, he spreads it on a thin translucent sheet, and moistens the edges. The cigarette rolled then lit, he takes a long puff which forms a halo of white smoke around him. His gaze lands, haphazardly, on the horizon. The young Casablancais seems exhausted. It has been two years since he fled Morocco, three months since he left Turkey, two days since he arrived in Belgrade. A large hole in each of his sneakers reveals his black socks. In the Serbian capital, he kills time with three other Moroccan exiles, Mohsen, Osman and Amine, on the concrete stairs of the old disused main station. “Soon”, when the small group will have collected some money, they will take the road to the north of Serbia. To reach, then, the other countries of central Europe which will lead them to “France” or “Spain”. Belgrade, the capital of Serbia, serves as a stopover for migrants who take the Balkan route. Credit: InfoMigrants This route to Europe, which many started in Turkey, saw a resurgence in traffic this year. According to estimates by the Belgrade-based NGO Klikaktive, almost 90,000 people have entered Serbia since the start of 2022, compared to 60,338 for the whole of 2021, according to combined data from the High Commission. to refugees from the UN (UNHCR) and the Office of the Commissioner for Refugees and Migration (KIRS), the public body in charge of receiving migrants in Serbia. For these exiles who have chosen to cross Serbia rather than Bosnia, another route on the Balkan route, Belgrade, right in the center of the country, is a must. This is where taxis or buses from the south stop, and others leave for the north, at the Hungarian and Romanian borders. This halt allows the migrants to organize the continuation of their exile, and to suspend, the time of a few days, their journey. The only reception center in the region, located 30 km away, in Obrenovac, is saturated. On October 13, more than 300 people were camping in front of the reception structure, including sixteen unaccompanied minors. So, many prefer the rare green spaces of Belgrade, like this small park which adjoins the old train station and the bus station. At dusk, small groups of people settle down with their backpacks on the withered grass, to spend the night there. No one lies down on the benches along a small path, which are missing wooden pallets. A small newsstand posted at the entrance offers the exiles, for a few Serbian dinars, to recharge their telephones. To eat and drink, Achraf and his traveling companions rely on the inhabitants who, the day before, have distributed some food to them. “But the police hunt us at night, so we come back here. At the station, they leave us alone.” For young Moroccans, on the other hand, it is impossible to find refuge inside: the imposing yellow building, which the municipality wishes to transform into a museum, keeps the door closed. Many groups of exiles occupy the surroundings of the former main station of Belgrade, Serbia, before returning to the north of the country. Credit: InfoMigrants Sleeping outside is one more ordeal for these exiles, already weakened by the first part of their journey. Before arriving in Belgrade, many were victims of violence on the borders of Europe: between Greece and Turkey, or between this country and Bulgaria. “Over there, when the police catch you, they beat you up, describes Achraf. A friend of mine was hit so hard behind the head that he went mad afterwards.” Turkey are regularly denounced by migrants and NGOs. Last May, Human Rights Watch assured once again that “Bulgarian authorities beat, rob, strip and use police dogs to attack Afghans and other asylum seekers and migrants, then push them back to Turkey without any formal interview or asylum procedure”. At the end of 2021, the Bulgarian branch of the Helsinki Committee recorded 2,513 pushbacks from Bulgaria, involving 44,988 people. >> To (re) read: “Bulgarian border guards raped the women before our eyes”, testimony of a Cameroonian turned back by Bulgaria Numerous pushbacks are also documented further down the road, on the border between Serbia and North Macedonia, where a barbed wire fence was built in 2020. According to the latest published data by the authorities on the subject, that year, Serbia prevented more than 38,000 attempts to cross its southern border. “Often very violent” evictions, which include “slaps, kicks, rubber batons, insults and threats”, says Nikola Kovačević, a human rights lawyer. “There are people every day”To find a little comfort in the Serbian capital, the exiles stop at the Wash Centre, a five-minute walk from the bus station. Opened in 2020 by the Collective Aid association, it allows migrants to take a shower, wash their belongings, and drink a cup of tea or coffee. On this cool, sunny October morning, about fifteen people crowded in front of the small premises. Karim sits inside. Hair in disarray, this former police officer in Kabul rubs his eyelids, then grabs a plastic glass filled with a steaming tea. Migrants can donate their clothes to be washed in the structure managed by Collective Aid. Credit: InfoMigrantsToday, he came to pick up clean clothes that Collective Aid makes available to exiles when the association has enough stock. “Right now I don’t have any money, so I’m glad they gave me this today,” he says, pointing to his gray joggers. “Right now, there’s people here all day,” said Claudia Lombardo, who runs the Wash Center with three other volunteers. “Since June, every day, between 70 and 80 people come to take a shower, and we run 30 machines.” The center also provides visitors with a small place to shave, soap, and sanitary protection for women. A shower slot is reserved for them, every day from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m. At the Wash Centre, migrants can take advantage of the showers available. Credit: InfoMigrantsOn the small counter posted in front of the washing machines stacked on top of each other, a tall young man opens a canvas backpack and takes out some clothes. Mohamed, 30, is in Belgrade for the second time in a month and a half. The young Syrian tried six times to cross the Romanian border from Majdan in the north of the country. Each time, he was violently turned back by the Romanian border guards, who stole all his savings. “I couldn’t take the situation there anymore so to rest a bit, I came back here.” He has been sleeping in the Obrenovac camp for two days, where “the mattresses are infested with small animals”. During the day, he comes to the Wash Centre, a place he knows well. “I discovered this place during my first visit to the city. When I arrived here [après avoir quitté la Turquie et traversé la Grèce, l’Albanie et le Kosovo, ndlr], I was exhausted and sick. I wanted to buy medicine but no pharmacy would let me in,” he recalls, his green eyes widening. “I was wandering down the street when I happened to come across the Wash Centre. I found showers there but also people to talk to. It freed me. They took care of me a bit.”Wash CentreLobina 7, BelgradeOpen Monday to Saturday, 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.