Abdelaziz Abdelrizack is among more than 500 refugees from Syria who have made the long journey to seek shelter in Nouakchott, capital of Mauritania.Geoffrey York/The Globe and Mail
With a wary eye on the undercover police at a nearby table, the Syrian refugee lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. Then he attempts to explain his anxiety. "We came from a dictatorial place, and we're all paranoid," he says.
The refugee, Abdelaziz Abdelrizack, is among hundreds of Syrians who have made a remarkable journey to a fragile haven in one of the most remote corners of the Arab and African worlds. More than 500 have found shelter here in Mauritania, an impoverished land on the edge of the Sahara desert, and more are continuing to arrive, fleeing the war that has devastated their homeland.
They came because Mauritania is the only Arabic-speaking country where they could arrive without visas. An entry visa, in other countries, can be impossibly expensive or simply impossible – leading to desperate journeys by boat, at the hands of human smugglers, and often leading to death by drowning.
But the voyage from Syria to the far western coast of Africa is a marathon one, first by road and then by plane. And most of the refugees remain fearful here today, knowing that Mauritanian President Mohamed Ould Abdel Aiz has been a close ally of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad's regime in the past.
"The President of Mauritania was one of the last presidents to speak to Assad at the start of the war, and they are very friendly with each other," says Mr. Abdelrizack, a 52-year-old pharmacist with a cheerful but nervous demeanour.
He fled his Syrian hometown, Daraa, in early 2013 as the war escalated. Countless family members and friends have died since then, he says.
The United Nations refugee agency, UNHCR, has given refugee status to about 110 of the Syrians, allowing them to qualify for medical and education assistance. But most of the Syrians are afraid to register with the UN. They still have family members in Syria, and they are worried that Mauritania's authoritarian state could co-operate with Mr. Assad's agents.
"They can't publicly say they are refugees because they could have problems with the Syrian embassy here," Mr. Abdelrizack says.
"We grew up in a state of permanent fear," he says. "You had no choice. You had to support the regime or you would be killed. In the war, most of us saw people killed in front of us."
The Syrians who reached Mauritania feel fortunate in comparison to those who suffer in vast refugee camps in the Middle East, or who risk the hazardous boat journeys in the Mediterranean. But they still face hardships. Jobs are scarce and the cost of living is expensive in this sparsely populated country. Even in the capital, Nouakchott, business is slow and sleepy, and the potholed roads are filled with donkey carts and drifting Saharan sand.
Most of the Syrians have found work as waiters or cooks, but those jobs are temporary and insecure. Those who need specialized medical treatment for cancer or other illnesses are unable to travel abroad because of the visa problem. "We are blocked here," Mr. Abdelrizack says.
Many of the Syrians dream of resettling in Canada or Europe, but their efforts have failed so far. In the meantime, a few have managed to travel overland to Morocco and then reached Spain on the boats of smugglers. Two Syrian families tried to reach Algeria through the deserts of northern Mali, but they were caught and sent back by Algerian border guards, Mr. Abdelrizack says.
Most, he says, won't risk the smuggling routes. "We're not that desperate," he says. "Our situation isn't as bad as other Syrian refugees in the world. Compared to them, we are very lucky."
Geoffrey York