Mohamed Niang was 18 years old when he first arrived in Argentina. He came from Diourbel, a town 150km east from Dakar, the capital of Senegal. Like many others, he came on his own, without money or any other plan than to make a better living. Three years have passed since then: Niang now speaks fluent Spanish and sells jewellery, cell phone covers, wallets, and belts worth $5 to $30 on the streets of downtown Buenos Aires. He says he cannot talk; he has to be alert that the police do not arrive. “They took my merchandise twice already,” he complains.
There are more than 3,000 Africans that have claimed asylum as refugees in Argentina since 2000, according to the National Commission of Refugees (CONARE). Their origin is mainly Senegal but they also come from Ivory Coast, Guinea, Sierra Leone, Cameroon and Nigeria. They are almost all men between the ages of 15 and 30, and with a basic level of education.
Nazareno Ayala, from the Directory of Human Rights (DIGHU) in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, explains that one of the reasons why West Africans choose Argentina is because its immigration laws are more lenient than many countries, especially the US and Europe.
Becoming a refugee
In Argentina, once the immigrant requests refugee status, he or she receives a provisional certificate of residency that has to be renewed every 180 days and grants permission to work. Even if the petition is denied, it can be appealed, and the Ministry of Justice and Human Rights will examine the case. If denied again, there is another appeal, and in the third instance, the Interior Ministry gets involved. If the request for asylum is still not approved, refugee immigrants can start judicial proceedings.
By that time, says Ayala, many are able to qualify for residency via a formal work contract or other means: “Lately there has been many cases of immigrants asking for their asylum request to be dismissed because they are getting married with an Argentine”.
These relaxed laws have led to a growing number of people, mostly from Senegal, claiming to be refugees just for the benefits. “The conflict of Casamace, in Senegal, that started in 1990 led to the arrival of many persons claiming to be persecuted. But then, people from cities far away from that conflict area were mentioning it, even after the peace treaty in 2005,” says Ayala.
In such cases, the request is usually denied. On the other hand, Ayala affirms that anyone from Sierra Leone, Ivory Coast or Sudan will be recognized as refugees without question.
‘Little Dakar’
The trip to Argentina is no less risky than that to other destinations, according to immigrant testimonials collected by the authorities. The most desperate travel hidden in between the containers of cargo ships, but not all survive the journey. As the boat arrives, the crew forces them to jump 300 metres from the port and they end their odyssey by swimming to shore. If customs finds a person trying to get in the country, the ship is responsible for him until he returns to his home country.
Others travel in less traumatic conditions. Like the Senegalese that mainly travel by plane to the Brazilian cities of Sao Paolo or Rio de Janeiro and then cross illegally the Argentine border, ironically, at Paso de los Libres (Passage of the Free).
Upon their arrival many knock on the door of the Commissioner for the Refugees (ACNUR), an agency of the United Nations, in search of aid. They provide, especially to the under aged, a temporary place to sleep, food, medicine and teach them a trade.
Once in the country, they tend to live close to one another, typically clustered in the neighbourhoods of Constitución or Once, known by some as ‘The Little Dakar’. “West African immigrants live and work together as a community and organise themselves by groups,” says Federico Pita president of the African Diaspora of Argentina (DIAFAR). He explains that once they arrive in Buenos Aires they usually seek help and advice from a compatriot who knows the city.
Many newcomers get together and buy merchandise at wholesale prices. This explains why they sell the same jewellery in open suitcases with red velvet interior, making approximately $500 a week depending on the weather and the season. Typically, they are located on the streets surrounding the Obelisk and in Once and have permanent spots until the police decide to move them.
“I work twelve hours a day,” says Niang. Like many, he saves money by living in a shared apartment, in this case with three other Senegalese immigrants. Rent in the neighbourhood— Constitución—is low, and food costs are kept down by eating simple homeland dishes based mostly on rice. Thanks to this, some can afford to send money back to their families in Africa.
Culture clash
Despite their guaranteed legal rights, Federico Pita, whose organisation helps African residents and Afro-argentines like him, states that many immigrants have to deal with racial discrimination every day. “The Police takes away their goods and even in some cases, torture them in police stations,” he claims. They also face great difficulties in entering the local labour market. “No one hires them because they are black”, says Pita.
In addition, relationships are difficult to develop in a society where interracial couples are still not widely accepted. Magali, who prefers not to mention her last name, found this out while she dated a Senegalese immigrant called Mike for almost half a year. She is 20 years old, Argentine, blonde and studies medicine at the Universidad of Buenos Aires (UBA). Mike is 24, has lived in Buenos Aires for four years, and still sells jewellery on the streets.
“People yelled all sorts of things at us, on the streets,” says Magali. She complains that when Mike met her after class, some people would stare, shake their heads and say: “Please, no”.
Despite these difficulties, many West African immigrants are learning to adapt to Argentine culture. Mohamed Niang, who remains single, has adopted some local customs such as following his favourite soccer team, Boca Juniors, or drinking mate, which he prefers with sugar. But although he has been living here for three years already, he still does not understand Argentine politics well. “I don’t know much, but I don’t like [Mauricio] Macri,” he says, referring to the Mayor of the City of Buenos Aires. Before leaving, he says: “We the Senegalese do not rob anyone. We want to work”.
The post La Pequeña Dakar: West Africans in Buenos Aires appeared first on The Argentina Independent.