Volunteering with No Name Kitchen in Bihać, Bosnia

I spent two months of my long vacation volunteering with No Name Kitchen in Bihać, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Our work was both humanitarian and political: supporting those who lack safe pathways into the European Union and collecting testimonies to denounce the systematic use of institutional violence at the borders. The movement is structured horizontally, offering the team on the ground a great degree of autonomy which enabled dynamic responses to constantly changing patterns of movement and tactics of border violence.

Across Europe, the dominant political narrative of migration searches for solutions against an ‘invasion,’ illegalising the movement of people across and within Europe. One of the current ‘solutions’ to the problem manufactured by far right and racist narratives, which positions the movement of brown and Muslim people as an existential threat, is widespread and systematic pushbacks. These are informal expulsions across borders which violate both the 1951 Geneva Convention and the European Union’s own legislation by denying individuals the right to protection from threats to their life in their country of origin. Nevertheless, pushbacks have become an unofficial feature of the EU’s migration regime.

Bihać is located on the Bosnian side of the border with Croatia. This makes it the last town which many people pass through on their way into the EU. The Croatian state is engaged in a systematic process of pushbacks, wherein its borders are heavily patrolled and surveilled. If caught, people moving through Croatia are nearly always pushed back to Bosnia. They face physical beatings, being threatened by guns and attacked by dogs, as well as having their phones, money and clothes stolen. This rampant violence, enacted by the Croatian state on behalf of the EU, demands resistance and is the context within which No Name Kitchen operates in Bosnia.

The day-to-day work was multifaceted and varied. As a team, we would work to distribute clothing, shoes, food, backpacks and phones to people who had lost such items along their journey. We would reach them through our hotline, through encounters in Bihać or nearby the border. We also regularly undertook squat assessments, in which we travelled to abandoned buildings where people were staying temporarily, distributing items as needed, providing clean blankets, showers and scabies treatment. Twice a week we also held ‘parties’ which were social gatherings for people to relax, play some games and enjoy music. These were spaces for building human connections wherein we sought to bring moments of relief from the immense hardships faced. Alongside these activities, we would document testimonies of those who had recently faced push backs and wished to tell their story.

Personally, I was also the logistics focal point, which meant that as well as engaging in the work with the team, I was responsible for the organisation and tracking of items in the warehouse. As a result, I spent some of my time sorting incoming donations, ensuring that we had enough food and keeping the warehouse in order.

My time in Bihać was both physically and emotionally exhausting, but I am very grateful to have had the opportunity to work alongside many incredible people, struggling for an end to the barbarity of the European border regime. I learnt a great deal about political organisation, as well as the bitter realities faced by so many people. My experiences will inform me as I go ahead with my studies, and as I look to write a dissertation on migration experiences in the coming long vacation. More importantly, the violence conducted by the Croatian state and numerous other European and adjoining states against people on the move needs to end. Documenting these unofficial practices is of great political importance to ensure that they may be recognised as systemic, raise awareness and pressure the European Union into ending the violence along its borders.