On the chilly morning of November 11, 2024, unsettling symbols of disdain reappeared: an ajar milk bottle left next to an old forlorn Kraft container, marking a tableau of relentless humiliation outside the UNHCR office. 🥛😞

This routine of public disdain marks my ongoing captivity, evoking memories of past derisions, like a capless fruit juice bottle left similarly by my side. I grapple with chronic starvation, depleting my strength and the ability to record each affront. 🥀

The night before, in biting cold, two men in their thirties dismissed my clipboard’s plea for dignified responses, opting for mockery over empathy, leaving mere scraps and retreating unapologetically. Their reluctance to donate a mere €5 highlighted the humiliation they deemed more palatable. 😟

These indignities mount under the UN’s indifferent gaze, where I endure a tapestry of degradation amid a decade-long captivity ordeal in Greece. Will the UNHCR’s gaze remain blind to my despair? This intense cycle of inequity begs for empathy and justice, as my fractured reality yearns achingly for relief. 💔

#InvisibleCaptivity #SilentSuffering #BlindGaze #Politics #Immigration