An illegal immigant

in Calais,checking trucks for migrants being smuggled into Europe,The Unesco Courier,september 2002

The eventsare seen from the point of view of an illegal immigrant from Africa.

He had no idea where he was or for how long they'd been travelling now, since he'd been picked up at the specified point, handed over the cash and seen it counted, and been told roughly to lie down and keep out of sight, In the dark, Le Fournisseur had not noticed that he was ill, nor was he the type to care, unless it was going to stop him getting his money. The van had stopped maybe half an hour ago, and the man had said only, Dont move, and then climbed out, banging back the door so hard that the pounding in his head had got even worse. Then silence except for birds. This was not a city. He could not be in a city. Even if he was near a park he would be able to hear people and traffic. he knew even without ever having been in London that this could not be where he was now, and that the man had lied to him. The man was back.he must be standing just outside next to the van, just on the other side of this thin metal wall. There was someone whith him, another man, also French. they were talking french. He was supposed to be in London, that was what he had paid the money for. He might not even be in England. Panic hit him somewhere in the stomach with a hot, gripping rush of pain. He wanted to cry out, but only a groan came. He felt his lips.He was so thirsty.Outside ,they were talking about him .
He's ill.He can't go tonight ,he'd collapse on the road and get caught. How should i know if he was ill when we left? What's ity to me?
He can't stay here.if he can't go throught tonight,he'll just have stay in the van, there's nothing else for it. Look,you know i don't like this anyway. It's got to spot, this part of it'
Don't start , for God's sake. Look he can't stay in the van .What if he throws up or something? I've got valuable stuff in there.Come on,