Sometimes you wish you were not in such a situation. You wonder why exactly you are in a country different from your own, with a culture different from what you have known. You have to start everything from scratch. You have to learn how to speak, eat, sleep, rest, and sometimes even think like the people of the host country. You have to assimilate yourself into the culture. Your assimilation is not for the people of the country but for yourself—to make things easier.

I know you so well, my friend, because I am you. Sometimes all the efforts seem pointless. You came to France on the fifth of January 2020, on the eve of COVID-19. You had prepared yourself to leave your home country since your fourteenth birthday. Now that you are out of the country, a global pandemic has emerged. As a student, you expected to find something that would be useful to your country in the future. But what? That dream was questioned by life itself. Having no source of income because the world was shut down, your first instinct was to move back home, to the motherland, to your mom. You were ready to sacrifice all you had invested to move out, but more than that, you were ready to sacrifice becoming a man for the comfort of your home. Luckily, your mom was not willing to let you move back home. Despite all the love she had for you—or rather because of her love for you—she wanted you to face your battles and become the man you were meant to be.

You lost your student visa because you couldn’t afford your studies. Nine months later, you were given an OBLIGATION TO LEAVE THE FRENCH TERRITORY. But you chose to stay, bringing the situation before a judge. For the following three years, you lived not just as an illegal immigrant but also as someone under the obligation to leave French territory. From here, you came to see the best and worst in men—especially in yourself. Choosing to stay in France as an illegal immigrant was like choosing to remain in an open prison. For almost five years, you have not felt the warmth of a hug from your mom. The only difference between you and a prisoner is that the door of your prison is open, but you do not dare to step out. Is it courage? Or is it cowardice? Ladies and gentlemen, let us look at my friend’s journey, at my journey.

Five years in France. From COVID to now. Man, this is one of the greatest achievements of my life. I have had so many ups and downs. How lucky I am to be an illegal immigrant in this country. I never thought I could work this hard and live on my own. However, I cannot live like this forever, this is the time where everything gets solved. Or I leave.