Patients arriving at the care centre are in a state of great suffering. The physical after-effects, such as joint pain and severe headaches, are compounded by serious psychological problems. In France, the precarious material situation, the difficulties in obtaining a protective status and the recurrent suspicion that hangs over exiled people hamper their reconstruction.
Our Patients’ Stories
The people who come to the Primo Levi Centre arrive from all five continents and diverse backgrounds, but they have all suffered violence and torture in their countries of origin, as well as on the road to exile. Here are the stories of four of them:
Asmaa arrived in France two years after leaving Syria. Two years on the road, in camps, then back on the road and finally crossing the Mediterranean at the mercy of smugglers to reach Europe. Two years without school, surviving more than living. Two years is an eternity at eight years old. Referred to the Primo Levi Centre by an association that manages the reception of refugee families, she started seeing a psychologist a few months ago. Asmaa regularly has the same nightmare: a boat and dark, chilling water. In her nightmares, she’s still in the middle of the waves, surrounded by adults screaming and children crying, awaiting death.
With the psychologist from the Primo Levi Centre, Asmaa talked about her school in Syria and her friends. At first, recalling these memories was challenging due to the time that had passed since she left. She was saddened thinking about the friends she no longer sees, yet it was also comforting to remember them. Asmaa has a strong desire to return to school, but her current situation complicates matters. Living in a hotel with her mother and frequently relocating makes it difficult. Although the hotel is an improvement over the camps, Asmaa longs for a permanent home of her own.
Like many children from Syria, Asmaa is in a terrible state of exhaustion. These children have withstood so much tension, fear and uncertainty about the future. However, they also have a tremendous capacity to rebuild. They are quick to learn French and school helps them to forge links with other children. This reconstruction requires careful support and guidance.
At the Primo Levi Centre, sustained psychotherapeutic care helps children like Asmaa rediscover their childhood. In addition, close social support stabilizes the family’s accommodation and avoids the children having to change schools if they move to another place. It is necessary for aid to be provided for canteen meals and school supplies. Links need to be forged between all those involved in the child’s life (teachers, principles, parents, etc.) to help them understand and overcome difficulties the child endures. It will take a lot of time and patience for Asmaa to sleep without nightmares. The shipwreck, the war, the long road of exile are now part of her life and her story. However she needs help to detach herself from them, to turn them into elements of her past, to help her invest in the present and build the future.
Mrs. N. is Iranian. She is a teacher, married with two children. After the 2009 Iran elections, she took part in demonstrations, like many of her compatriots. She was arrested by the police along with other demonstrators. She was arbitrarily detained for several days. During her imprisonment, she was tortured, beaten and raped. She eventually managed to leave Iran with her family. When she arrived in France, she went to an Amnesty International refugee center, which referred her to the Primo Levi Centre. During her intake interview at the center, Mrs. N. expressed a need for psychological support and medical treatment to help her regain some peace and sleep. She is haunted by nightmares, regularly reliving scenes of torture. She feels guilty and ashamed of what has happened to her. Fearing rejection, she has never been able to tell her husband that she was a victim of rape. Yet it haunts her day after day.
Treatment at the Primo Levi Centre began with one appointment a week with a psychologist and one every other week with a general practitioner. Very early on, Mrs. N. expressed a desire to go back to work. For her, it was a question of dignity. She used to earn her living in Iran, and she doesn’t want to be dependent on society in France; she wants to be financially independent. She used to be a teacher in her country and now she wants to work with children again. The social worker began by advising her to improve her level of French and referred her to an association offering French courses. Mrs. N. made rapid progress and started taking courses on child care. Her mental state improved after a year in care. She now works as a live-in nanny. She has obtained refugee status and continues to see a psychologist about once a month. Unfortunately, her accommodation conditions are still very precarious and remain an obstacle to her full reconstruction.
Mr. V. is Kurdish, originally from Turkey. He was imprisoned several times for his opposition to Turkish government policy, during which he suffered daily violence and humiliation. Mr. V. weighed just 37 kg when he was finally released and fled the country. He suffers from extremely violent migraines, foot pain, and memory and concentration problems. He often has nightmares about scenes he experienced in prison.
Despite the risks he faces, confirmed by recent threats, Mr. V.’s asylum applications in France have been rejected. These successive rejections plunged him into depression, then anger. He lost everything when he left his country; his family and his job. His efforts to obtain refugee status, he says, is all he has left. It’s a question of honor. Despite having been in France for several years, he cannot bring himself to apply for regularization, even though it would have allowed him to obtain a residence permit for treatment. In his eyes, obtaining papers without a refugee status would place him in the position of a pauper on welfare. It would also mean renouncing a symbolic political act and the struggle of the generations that preceded him, those of his father and grandfather, who were also activists.
Mrs. B. comes from the Democratic Republic of Congo. Her partner was a member of a group opposed to the government. Soldiers came to her house, beat and raped Mrs. B. several times and tortured and killed her partner in front of her. Taking advantage of a moment when she was no longer being watched, she was able to escape with her baby. Hunted by the soldiers, she managed to hide, find help from her family, and leave the country. After a long journey, she reached France. While she was being beaten and raped, Mrs. B.’s arms were tied. During her first consultations at the Primo Levi Centre, she came with a left arm that was completely paralyzed and extremely painful. She also suffered severe back pain. Psychologically, Mrs. B. suffers from major sleep disorders and constantly relives the scenes of violence. Medical treatment was put in place, supplemented by physiotherapy sessions to try to relieve Mrs. B.’s suffering, both through medical treatment and by working on her body’s mobility, using gentle massages. She is also offered psychotherapy. It seems that the dysfunction in her arm is a way for Mrs. B. to distance herself from a body that has suffered so much, and to put traumatic events behind her. A long course of therapy was successfully completed, enabling Mrs. B. to reclaim her body and regain confidence in herself and her ability to look after her child.