Meet Yeussupha

A Note From the Correspondent
on Yeussupha’s Journey Story

Yeussupha was the fourth and last to speak during our roundtable interview on 29 April 2017, in Lampedusa, Sicily, and the buildup of emotion he felt hearing his friends speak before him became overwhelming. I heard scattered sniffles as I was in the midst of interviews with Prince and Destiny (Nigeria), and another sound that signifies disbelief of many people MotM works with in the migrant community who are coming out of intense periods of distress. Tsk, a click of the tongue, a small but meaningful sound, with a flick of the head, as if one could look away from the trauma in their mind.

The encounter with Yuessupha here is important specifically because we were unable to fully document his journey. It tells us the level of violence and stress was too high to even bring voice to it. I heard the tsks and watched Yeussupha’s and Destiny’s faces wince while the horrors in Prince’s story were recounted. It was an incredibly delicate situation, confused by the bright sun of the Mediterranean scenery around us.

I hoped to complete an interview with Souleman (Gambia) after Destiny had shared his remarkable, and very raw, testimony. He and Prince said Yeussupha would have to be the one to translate, since Mandinka was the common language between them, the rest of us not being French speakers—the other language Souleman spoke well.

Just as I turned to Yeussupha he covered his face, crying. I took his hand and all interviewing stopped.

“He came from prison—he came outside from prison just last month,” Prince said. “It had been one year in prison,” which he knew because he met him there.

We continued holding hands and I said we didn’t have to speak, and he began crying harder. It was a moment more important than even the mission of capturing their indispensable stories for the record.

It was a moment to witness, to help relieve pain by sharing it, to give someone love. I say a collection of things in moments like these. It wasn’t right what happened to you. You are safe here right now. You don’t have to feel shame about crying—about releasing this pain. More than anything, I set aside a moment to always remember that the things that have been done to them are not who they are. I reiterate this. He took my hand harder.

Holding Yeussupha’s hand that day was more important than any story I’ve ever recorded.

There was a drag of silence, reverence from all of us—from Prince and Destiny, and dear Souleman, who struggled as the odd guy out amidst a conversation all in English. Yeussupha caught his breath and we all took each other in. Looking at each other’s faces. Looking away at the sky.

Pedestrians were filing down the street beside us. The contrast between the sunny town square and the images in Yeussupha’s mind were too outrageously, unjustly far apart to be true. And yet, here we were.

When we began to breathe again they all agreed to pictures. Yeussupha, Prince, Destiny and Souleman posed so they could show you who they really are.

Revised: 12 January 2025