It has been six months since the notorious Calais "Jungle" camp was demolished β but many people have been left behind, including kids. Under shadows cast by electric pylons, a group of young people sit on the grass near a motorway leading to the English Channel. Some play football with a stone on the gravel. Nearby are sand dunes and chemical factories, and chimneys dominate the grey skyline.
It is 6pm at the emergency distribution point in Calais, and many of the people waiting for food and other handouts are unaccompanied minors β people under 18 with no home, no shelter, and no guardians. Many are here to be given what will be their only meal of the day. Three cars from the French gendarmerie police pull up, watching. A year-old, Daniel, sits on a sandy mound, flip-flops on his feet, eating a meal of rice and stew on a paper plate.
Daniel tells me about how he tries to sleep on the forest floor at night. Like the other teenagers I speak to here, he says he's unable to. Life is bad. I want a date [to transfer to the UK]. We need freedom. Most of them are hoping to cross the heavily guarded border to get to the UK. Police one day put me in prison, one month. One time 45 days. Some of the young people in Calais have family in the UK and the right to join them. The volunteers say they hear police sometimes destroy the items they give out to the migrants.
If the blankets are not lost or ruined in the rain, they've been told, police pepper-spray the bedding. As a result they hand out around blankets every other night β far more than when there were 10, people sleeping at the Calais camp.
Beba, who is queueing up, is just 13, and says he has a sister in the UK. He says he wants to learn, have a social life and to play football. He supports Chelsea FC. He tells me his favourite player is Eden Hazard, the attacking midfielder. I lose my energy by police. Four days in prison. One of his friends has crutches. Thomas, 14, describes the home he left behind in Eritrea by miming someone holding a gun and shooting.
