The legacy of the Jungle

I've been to The Jungle in Calais several times to help with the refugee crisis. What I did was almost nothing, and yet alongside thousands of others who also did almost nothing, it all helped.
But this extraordinary woman was in it for the long run. I met her on my first day when she showed me around and told me how things worked. She led the warm-up and daily briefing for volunteers.
Her testimony reminds me of what I saw. The unexpected blossoming of love and beauty in the jaws of degredation and barbaric humiliation. She and dozens (hundreds?) like her gave all they had. And to witness such selfless giving from another moved me in a way I had never imagined possible. She will pay for that gift for the rest of her life. No one should see what she saw.
Don't imagine this is over. The goalposts have moved for sure. But refugees are still risking daily arrest and a beating just for surviving, in hiding. Volunteers now risk fines for handing out food.
Watching this video makes me weep although I'm confused as to why. Do I weep for her pain? Do I weep for the pain of the refugees past and present? Do I weep for those who lost their lives fleeing something worse? Do I weep for our occluded humanity, that discussing whether a banana is bendy enough can be more important, demand more media coverage and attract more spending, than desperate beings living in hell on our doorstop ?
I have no answers. Nor does Cécile. But if you have two minutes, I commend her to you.

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