In this interview, investigative journalist and founder/editor-in-chief of the Foundation for Investigative Journalism, Fisayo Soyombo, tells VICTOR AYENI about his ordeal posing as a migrant travelling to Libya through the Sahara Desert and his efforts to warn Nigerians about the dangers of such journeys
What inspired and motivated your undercover investigation, in which you travelled as a migrant from Nigeria through the Niger Republic and the Sahara Desert en route to Libya?
I did it because I had a sense that we could prevent the unnecessary wastage of Nigerian lives in the desert. From some findings, I knew that as many as 80,000 Nigerians embark on the journey annually. A good number of them die in the desert before even getting into Libya.
A good number of them die in the Mediterranean Sea; some get to Libya and have to make a U-turn. Some of them get to Libya and become stuck. Only very few make it to Europe. So, I was sure that if I went on that journey, got evidence, photos and videos, I would be able to show unsuspecting Nigerians why they shouldn’t fall for the Libya traffic.
In your investigative report, we read about Bamidele, Samuel and Austin. What do you think compelled these men, like other Nigerian youths, to embark on this journey and endure the dehumanisation along the way?
Only one of these people stayed the course and never changed his mind about getting to Libya. The other two individuals you mentioned said, at different points, things like, “If I knew I would suffer this much, I wouldn’t have come.” So, many migrants I met practically gave up during that journey. They didn’t expect the things they encountered.
Now, why did they embark on that journey? The first reason is that the economic conditions in Nigeria are harsh. People are looking for a better life, so I would lay the blame primarily on the government. If people were in a country that was working, where they felt they could earn a decent living, they wouldn’t fall for anyone saying there is a better life somewhere. However, the second factor is that traffickers spread a lot of migration disinformation. They deliberately peddle falsehoods. For instance, they tell intending migrants, “In one to two weeks, you will be in Libya,” which is a lie.
In fact, at the final leg of that journey, which was from Sabha to Tripoli, after spending several weeks on the road, my ‘connection man’ abandoned me in Sabha. I had to look for another ‘connection man’ who got me back on track, but the guy told me we would be in Tripoli in two to three days, Inshallah. Meanwhile, I knew from my research that there was no magic that would get me to Tripoli, even in one week. You can’t move from Sabha to Tripoli in one week, but this guy was saying otherwise. That’s how they lie to migrants; the migrants never know how bad it usually is. So, there are three factors here: bad governance, failure in leadership and migration disinformation.
What was the most difficult moment you experienced during this investigation?
Without doubt, it was trekking in the desert during the journey from Al Gatrun to Sabha. The closer we got to Tripoli, the higher the likelihood of police arrest. So, the traffickers got to a point where there was a police checkpoint ahead, and it was a checkpoint they couldn’t bribe their way through. So, they emptied us into the desert and told us to trek and meet them in front. The driver then used the car alone, and we had to trek to meet up with him. The first time, we trekked for more than an hour, and the second time, we trekked for roughly two hours. It was a difficult trek. That was the most difficult moment.
Could you tell us about your forthcoming photo exhibition themed ‘Desserts from the Deserts’?
The photo exhibition is another way of getting the message across to a wider audience. In the past, anytime I released an investigation, I felt my job was done. But for the first time, I did an investigation and thought that my job had just begun. I will release a three-part multimedia series and also a documentary on December 1. I have also done a social media campaign; I have released videos giving Nigerians 10 reasons they shouldn’t go to Libya. I did that over a period of 10 days in English and Pidgin. The next phase is to do it in Hausa, Igbo and Yoruba.
I am doing that because I need to get the message across to people with limited literacy who are the usual targets of traffickers. The people who are mostly victims of trafficking are not going to read all the grammar in my article. They will likely watch the short social media videos I’ve put up on TikTok and Facebook. So, the next step is to find people who are able to influence policies and shape conversations; people of influence and intellect who may have been too busy to read the three-part series. Then they can come and sit in a room where they view the photos, and I give them the stories behind them.
I was in the desert for 47 days; I am exhibiting 47 photos, and we are printing 47 copies of the photos. It will be held at Alliance Française, Ikoyi, Lagos, from Monday, October 26, to Wednesday, October 28. Day one, the opening-day event, is exclusive to invitees and runs from 6pm to 9pm. Days two and three are completely free for all members of the public to attend. Nobody needs to be invited. Anyone who wants to see the photos can just show up anytime from morning to evening.
Did the course of your 47-day journey in the Sahara Desert change you as a person?
If I am being honest, it hasn’t changed me, but that is just the nature of my work. On my social media platforms, my biodata is: “Seeker, digger and teller of hidden stories.” What I have done for most of my career is search out stories that people do not know exist, or stories that people are already aware of but do not know the extent of. So, I’m used to interesting discoveries. And then, before I get on my stories, I spend a lot of time researching and talking to people. I prepared for this Libyan story for six months, so I already expected many of the things I saw.
The one thing that shocked me was that I didn’t know the trans-Saharan slave trade, which people believe ended in the mid-20th century, was still going on. The way people get captured and sold to others who collect ransom, and the way sub-Saharan Africans are treated as slaves from the beginning to the end of the journey, were things that I didn’t anticipate or expect. I was a slave to the Arabs from the beginning of the journey to the end. I was someone with no voice; they kept all of us like dogs, and chickens were more important than us.
A popular example was when we were moving from Magaria to Agadez. They conveyed us in a minibus stuffed with chickens. There were chicken cages inside, on top of and strapped to the back of the minibus. A Nigerian girl, Ella, wanted to pee during the journey, but the traffickers didn’t stop. However, when one of the chickens flew out of its cage, they stopped to pursue it. That was when the girl got the opportunity to pee.
That was when I realised that on this journey, we were not human beings and these people didn’t regard us as such. It was my most shocking discovery. Arabs don’t rate the black man as a human being. They see us as subhuman. This was what was going on in their minds, and it was reflected in the way they conducted the journey.
What do you think the Nigerian government, in conjunction with the governments of surrounding countries, should do to dismantle these trafficking networks?
There are lots of things to do, but I can easily tell you two. One, they have to go after the traffickers. If there are no traffickers, illegal migration and disinformation will be harder to spread. So, they have to be more coordinated and continuous. The traffickers should be arrested and made to pay for their crimes because they are actually wicked to many people. Second, the government has to disseminate anti-Libya information at the grassroots level through local languages. They actually have to explain these dangers to people in their local languages, Hausa, Igbo and Yoruba, and take these messages to people in the hinterlands through videos.
These are not people you can reach through formal platforms. I love PUNCH Newspapers a lot. I am a huge PUNCH fan, and it has been that way for over a decade, but most of the people targeted by traffickers who are hardest to reach will not be online reading PUNCH. Some are on TikTok or Facebook, and there are also communities we need to reach. Politicians have to get Nigerians to understand why they shouldn’t go to Libya and take these messages to the nooks and crannies of the country, the same way they take their political campaigns.
What would you tell frustrated Nigerian youths considering the dangerous Sahara Desert journey to Libya and Europe?
My message to you is that I understand your pain and your frustration with the system, as well as your desire for a better life. But my advice is that if you are going to migrate, do it through the front door. Go to a country where you will be able to secure your visa and get on a plane, and then you can start building your life. Don’t use the route of illegal migration. Your frustrations with Nigeria will be multiplied or tripled if you end up in Libya. This country is not the El Dorado that traffickers are selling to you, and the journey to Europe is not that easy.
I don’t know of any human being who got to Libya and, within a month, got to Europe. It takes time: several weeks, months and years, and sometimes, people who have stayed in Libya have attempted to cross into Europe three times but were unsuccessful.
So, it’s not that straightforward, even if you survive all the hazards on the road. My advice, if you are really hell-bent on migrating, is to do it legally. Don’t do it through the back door, through the desert or across the Mediterranean Sea. The odds are against you; you are more likely to die than survive that journey.