From our special correspondent in Hungary,
Reda will “never forget” her flight from Ukraine. With a hood over his head and a suitcase in his hand, this 22-year-old Moroccan student still manages to smile as he recounts his journey from the Dnieper. Arriving in this city in the south of the country in 2017 to continue his medical research, Reda hesitated for a long time before giving up everything. “The shelling began on February 27 at 3 am. At the embassy we were quickly advised to leave, but the university let us know that there was no danger. I was torn,” he explains. A week into the conflict, Reda finally packed his bags and headed west.
For a day, the overcrowded train, in which the young man boarded, remains immersed in darkness, “so that the planes would not notice him.” Arriving in Lviv, Reda strives to get to the Hungarian border. “We were not allowed on the trains, there was clearly racism. I was at the dock for seven hours. To be honest, I almost gave up and went home, but I ended up finding a taxi,” he continues. On the road, the police check the vehicle. The moment remained in my memory: “We were told to return to the Dnieper. Under the pretext that I have been living in Ukraine for five years, they told me that I should help the Ukrainian troops fight, and they began to bring in a Kalashnikov assault rifle. It was terrible”.
– What will happen now? »
Arriving safe and sound in Hungary a few hours later, Reda was reunited with some of his classmates and compatriots in Budapest. Among them is 32-year-old Badr, the last of the group to leave the Dnieper. “I thought everything would calm down. Until the day a rocket flew over my house. I waited for the blow, I remained frozen. That is what convinced me to leave,” says a young man at the forecourt of Nyugati station. Since then, these students have plunged into “uncertainty”: “We have invested a lot of money in funding our studies and have devoted more than four years to this. What will happen now? Will we be able to continue our course elsewhere? Can we get a higher education without starting from scratch? Badr asks.
At the moment, no clear solution has been provided for these students. Only their university told them that classes were suspended until March 12th. Their relatives insist that they return to Morocco: “My mother was obviously going crazy. She told me to go home that my life was worth more than my diploma. It was difficult when we talked to them on the phone,” says Badr. To convince its citizens to return, the kingdom announced special flights from Ukraine’s neighboring countries to Casablanca at a fixed price of 750 dirhams (70 euros).
“We just want to go home”
An option that is not considered by either Badr or Reda. Settled in Budapest for a few days with the support of the Moroccan embassy in Hungary, the two friends choose to stay in Europe. “We need to go towards Vienna and then to Germany. We are going to see if we can continue our course there,” explains the 30-year-old. Others, on the other hand, chose to return permanently. The trauma of the bombing swept away any alternative. 18-year-old Mohad, an Indian student from Kerala, wants to find his family. “I studied medicine in Kharkov. It was terrible there,” he modestly describes, burying his hands in a down jacket.
After six days of fierce fighting, Mohad and his friends managed to escape the city, which was shelled by the Russians: “We walked for a long time, took a bus and then a train to get to Zahony in Hungary.” Due to the lack of a visa, these students had to wait several hours in the cold before they could travel towards Budapest. Exhausted from the trip, Mohad breathes: “We have no idea how long it will take and we have not contacted our embassy. We just want to go home right now.”