#spanish refugees
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
africanrefugeeswelcome · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
This is beautiful, this beautiful Spanish woman has been dating this Gambian man for 5 months and is already expecting his child, I love this good news
Spain🇪🇸 ❤️ Gambia🇬🇲
🧔🏿‍♂️🤰🏻👶🏽
54 notes · View notes
letsunity · 1 year ago
Text
With Thunder Comes Lightning
Summery: Peter and MJ tried again, but the spark wasn't there; they stay as friends to raise their soon-to-be daughter. Everything was going great until evil goop and a spooky vampire guy fall out of an orange portal. Little does Peter know that the biggest pain in his ass and future mutant best friend has landed right at his feet.  
Tumblr media
art by @gryphll
Chapter 4 - Appointment
Doctor appointments weren't MJ's favourite thing. She had a phobia of needles and other medical garbage. The smell of sterile stuff made her ill.
Of course, Peter has to be the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. For her safety, MJ had their new buddy.
"It's just a checkup. Everything's going to be fine," MJ told herself, biting her lower lip. "I don't feel fine. Ok. Can I have some encouragement?"
"I've never been to a hospital, so I can't accurately assure your safety," Miguel stated, the coldness of it concerning her. "I'll kill whoever comes too close. Does that help?"
"You're trying. That's helpful enough, tough guy."
"I suspect you're infantilising me."
"I have a baby growing in me. Everyone is an infant to me now. And you're, y'know, a decade younger than me."
His little grumble was cute.
MJ might not know how to make a portal watch or swing webs, but she could see when someone was hurt.
The entire situation hurt her best friend; Peter was a good man with a titanic heart, and it weighed heavily on him. She wanted to hug and tell him it was ok, but she couldn't lie to his face. She didn't know how this would turn out.
He cried himself to sleep last night. He was grieving the loss of his friends alone. He tended to put himself on an island when in pain, not wanting to put the burden on others. It was a selfless part of him she used to love, but now she worried.
Her best friend was in pain, as was her new friend.
"Is there anything that they can do here to help you?" MJ asked, her blue eyes wandering up to meet those dark sunglasses.
"There's nothing to help in my universe. I doubt it'll be any different here."
"You never know. They might have something for those allergies and the light thing."
"No."
"Hmm, that sounds like self-harm."
"It's not undeserved."
"What is it with Spidermen and being all self-sacrificing?"
"We have the power to do something. We can do enough to make a significant change. By sacrificing ourselves, the people we protect can rest in peace. That's what it means to be Spiderman."
"Almost sounds like a quote."
"It was. From the Spiderman of my universe before me."
He was from the future, but MJ didn't even consider there might have been a previous Spiderman. Was it like Peter and Miles?
It's exciting learning about other universes.
"What was he like? The one before you?"
"I never met him. He died long, long before I came to be. When Klyntarus ruled our universe, there weren't any heroes or anybody with the power to do something - I'm... still alone on that front. But he was a good man from what I understand."
At least Peter had co-workers, allies and friends.
She was sad knowing that Peter had died there. All of the other heroes, too. It wouldn't be surprising if Klyntarus had something to do with that.
It's sweet that he was inspired by the original Spiderman, though.
He's right, though. If you can make a change for the better, you should.
The creed of Spiderman is to put others before yourself; it's a heavy burden but an honourable one. She respected it.
"I'm glad that he inspired you."
"Gracias."
MJ didn't like the smell of the hospital entrance. It was messy, sterile and also tainted with puke. Thankfully, she wasn't alone in her disgust.
"Oh, mierda. Huele como una morgue horneada," he hissed, cringing.
"No idea what you said, tough guy, but agreed."
She didn't enjoy having to sign in. The receptionists weren't interested in being helpful, mostly ignoring MJ. They only started to pay attention when Miguel growled; it reminded MJ of a pissed-off cane corso.
Having a giant buff Latino vampire proved helpful. He's like a bodyguard, scaring people into listening to her. She used to do that for Peter when people ignored him for being a nerd.
She loves nerds. They've got so many interests and know many intriguing things. They can never bore you.
With the giant having kidnapped their attention, MJ was finally able to get things moving. All they had to do now was linger in the cesspool of stench until her doctor could be assed.
MJ's not happy about sitting on a warm chair surrounded by sick people, all looking as pleased as her.
She hates hospitals.
"How's your first hospital visit?"
"Mierda."
"Agreed."
Although MJ didn't have spidey sense, she had bullshit sense, courtesy of being a little redhead spitfire. She could detect something akin to one of those space wizards in those movies that Peter enjoyed.
There is a foulness in the force.
With some scouring, MJ spotted the source of the foulness. It was a woman glowering at her and her friend, paler than carved marble; she must be anaemic.
MJ's been around long enough to see one of those people.
She's not standing for it. She might be eight months pregnant and a shorty, but MJ had a spider's spirit.
Hopefully, she could distract him from that witch.
"If it's not rude for me to ask, is Nueva a Spanish version of new york?"
"No. It was destroyed in the calamity of 2038 and was rebuilt by Hector Nueva, soon named after him. I'm just Mexican. A little Irish, too."
"You're a damn big leprechaun."
"Very funny. I'm more like a Chupacabra, anyway."
"And here I thought you didn't like vampires."
"I don't. Vampires suck. Chupacabras are cool."
"They do suck."
"You're worse than Parker."
"I take that as a compliment, thank you."
Peter will feel much better knowing that she's not alone. She's got a buddy guard to protect her from any ominous sludge.
All Miguel has to do is sit in the corner and be spooky.
She was due measurements, weighing, blood pressure, a quick ultrasound, and possibly a pelvic exam - she hated those. It's so awkward and invasive.
While MJ should want nobody else in the room, she doesn't get a pervy vibe from Miguel. He didn't react when she came out of the shower, not bothered or even interested. He didn't have a single care about that sort of thing.
Her bullshit sense often intertwines with her gaydar. He's not straight; she knew that much. If she were a gambler, MJ would put her money on asexual.
Does he know what that is? She might ask later.
"MJ."
"Yeah?"
"We need to leave."
"Wait, is it him? Is he coming?" MJ questioned.
She was scared of being too close to that monster. It's hurt her friends so much, and she hasn't even seen it.
MJ didn't get to ask more as a roar echoed from outside.
Before she knew what was happening, she was facing the pale ceiling, bright orange webbing keeping her there. Several other people were up as well, but not her surprise roommate.
A suited Miguel was beneath her in the waiting room, his hands gripping the thick horn of nonother than Aleksei Sytsevich, also known as the Rhino.
Something was wrong, though. His thick hide was burned and scorched, ooze dripping and refusing to mix with his blood.
His face, usually mixed with rage and bloodlust, was full of fear and anguish. Most of his face was gone, reduced to burned bone. He only had a single eye, but she doubted he could see from it.
"Помогите мне кто-нибудь!" Rhino roared, his voice bloodcurdling and terrified. "Обжигает! Обжигает!"
MJ didn't understand Russian, but she knew he was in agony.
A black sludge ripped from his spine, red eyes scowling at Miguel.
"2099! What a coincidence! Such a little universe, hmm?" Klyntarus cackled, forcing Rhino to push forward. "Such weak little bodies. Can you imagine how it feels to be a flame sailing a sea of kerosene?"
"Eres toda mía, perra mocosa!"
"I look forward to you trying."
She winced as Rhino cried again, begging for help that couldn't come.
Klyntarus rammed into Miguel again, pushing him through the empty reception desk. People were running in panic, terrified.
MJ scrambled for her phone, texting Peter as quickly as she could. As soon as he realised she was there, it would go to ultimate shit.
Pick up your damn phone, Parker!
Tumblr media
Peter hopped past Morbius' claws, finding them far less impressive than Miguel's. Honestly, the vamp had nothing on Peter's roommate.
He didn't have Miguel's power or claws; even Miguel's fangs were much more intimidating. The red of his eyes had much more potency than Morbius'.
"You are depriving some village of their idiot!" Morbius sneered, trying to pierce Peter.
"And Twilight is missing one of its vamps!"
Peter jumped on the ledge of a balcony, cracking his aching back.
He wasn't sure how to feel about Morbius now. He was somewhat interested at the beginning. After ten years, though? it got old.
At this point, Morbius was the villain of the week.
Weirdly, he felt like a knockoff compared to his fellow spider. He didn't have the same energy or vibe.
He can't put it into words exactly, but compared to Miguel, Morbius is nothing.
"That movie is an insult to what makes vampires so-"
"-Lame?" Peter finished, uninterested. "Are you going to sparkle now?"
"Insolent brat!"
"I'm almost forty, dude."
"You're younger than me, so you're a brat!"
Man, so this is how Miguel felt.
He's still going to annoy him over being younger. What friend would Peter be if he didn't?
When Morbius pounced, Peter jumped onto a nearby roof, feeling his cracked phone buzz. He should ignore it, given he's fighting a "mighty" foe, but his senses demand otherwise.
Peter looked at his phone, seeing a missed call from MJ. Was she done with her appointment already? That was quick!
The text, however, told him otherwise.
Fuck Peter with a salty menorah. He's there.
"I've got a thing. Debate movies with you later, Mikey!"
"Darn you, Spiderman!"
"Whatever!"
He wasted no chance racing towards the hospital, and police were already surrounding the chaos. He landed upon a police car, fear dancing in his bones.
Peter's spidey senses were screaming to run away, but he couldn't. His friends and baby were in there.
As expected, Jameson was still kicking, talking to news cameras, no doubt blaming Peter for this, somehow. He's glad he quit working for that asshole; it was such a toxic environment.
Whatever, he's too old to care about what Jameson's whining about.
Peter swung inside, smelling the rot already. He's here alright. It disgusted him that Klyntarus was attacking a hospital, but he was already vile; Peter shouldn't be shocked at his evil.
There were glowing, orange webs on the ceiling where MJ's text said she'd been. He couldn't see her anywhere, so he would have to go looking. The trail of bloody melted viscera and rot was a good indicator.
The hospital looked like something out of a horror movie; it was decayed, in ruin. It's been infected by Klyntarus.
He was scared that he would find her and hurt them. He was terrified of being a father but even more afraid of losing his child.
Fuck, how can Miguel cope with losing his daughter? Peter hadn't even met his kid and was scared for them.
Peter crept through the ruins, cautiously stepping over suspicious mounds that stank of death. He relied on his spidey senses, but they were overwhelmed by that monster's presence.
Something big had barrelled through the hospital, almost like a torpedo or tank. It would take ages to fix this place up if that were even possible.
Klyntarus destroyed everything around him. It's likely that wherever he goes, it's inhospitable.
He saw some glowing web, a sign of his teammate. He followed it, finding a deep hole that ran so far down that Peter couldn't see the bottom. It appeared to reach the under levels of the hospital; there should only be a basement, though.
Another buzz from his damaged phone - a text!
Peter stared at it, analysing the three dancing dots that eventually became a message. His heart was tachycardic with worry and fear.
The older Spiderman ran, looking at the fading numbers on the doors he passed. He paused at 16B, the one that MJ's number indicated. Despite knowing it could be a trap, Peter broke the door open, scouring the room.
MJ was sitting beside a gurney. She was in shock, afraid and alone.
A recently deceased young man lay not far from her. He was horrifically burned, and most of his left leg was reduced to sludge. He died slowly; Peter knew that as soon as he spotted him.
He quickly came to his best friend's side, checking her for injuries.
"He had Rhino's body," MJ whimpered, shaking from the ordeal. "He was crying for help, Peter. Rhino. He was in agony."
That explained why the hospital had a giant hole in it.
"Come on, let's get out of here," Peter said, bridal carrying his close friend. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
"No. No, Miguel distracted him so we could run out. Something went wrong, though. The bodies didn't stay -"
"Parker!"
Peter twisted to the deceased man, who was now sitting up, black fluid running from his orifices. His eyes were empty, devoid of life, but something was in there, puppeteering him.
He was close to tightening his grip but knew it'd hurt MJ. He wouldn't do that to her.
She clung to his body, hiding her face in his chest.
"He will reign long, and your friend will be far too gone!" the corpse cackled, rotting at an astonishing rate. He melted to bones before Peter's eyes. Not even his clothes survived the rot.
As cryptic as that was, Peter knew what it was implying.
Peter had to get MJ outside first, however.
He made his way out of the hospital, feeling that fear fade with each step. The further from Klyntarus he was, the more confident he felt.
Did Klyntarus' very presence rot your soul? It seemed so.
"Keep her safe," Peter ordered a surprised and confused police officer, turning back towards the building. "And don't let anybody else inside. I mean it."
"It's the same thing that killed those heroes, isn't it?" the officer said, removing her jacket to cover MJ. "Don't die in there, Spiderman."
"I don't plan on it."
He couldn't make any promises.
So, fear growing in his chest, Peter returned to the leftover Walking Dead set. He wouldn't be shocked to find Rick Grimes' room where he was somehow untouched in a coma for a year.
That entire show was a fever dream; he was sure of it. After Glenn died, the only fun left was, ironically, Negan. He'll have to make Miguel watch that.
When he arrived at the suspicious hole, Peter jumped. His knees complained when he landed, cracking in all the wrong and unsatisfying ways.
The fear of Klyntarus was far more potent than before, suffocating Peter in an aura of fear and death.
He's not looking for that thing, though.
Peter quickly spotted the entrance to a tunnel that shouldn't exist.
Rhino's body lay mangled and twisted at the entrance like a macabre decoration. Instead of being melted, it looked like a savage beast and tore the poor bastard apart. He didn't want to be on the backside of whatever caused that.
He walked down the tunnels, listening out for his friend.
His senses went off, sending a tingle down his spine. He turned around, annoyed to see Morbius had followed him.
"Not the time, Count Lame-ula. Ugh, that sounded better in my head. Whatever, could you go and haunt some little kid's birthday party? I'm in the middle of something."
"What horrors could have created such strife?" Morbius asked, both in awe and horrified by the situation.
"An extradimensional genocidal evil Symbiote that decays whatever he touches. You should go before you eats you, too."
"I don't believe you."
"I don't care."
"You're trying to deceive me!"
"Not everything is about you!"
"Fool! I am the reincarnation of the great Count Dracula!"
"Sure, and I'm the reincarnation of Link - see my little fairy, Navi? We're on our way to rescue Zelda," Peter sighed, rolling his eyes behind his mask. "Just go bother someone else, alright?"
Vampires suck.
Peter paused, feeling something else was down here. It wasn't Klyntarus, but it felt similar and yet distinct. He could feel it was nearby and dangerous, but not the precise position.
That "something" was coming and fast.
Of course, Morbius acted like a child and attempted to attack Peter while distracted. He wouldn't get the chance to get close, however.
A blur of red and dark pounced upon Morbius before he could reach Peter, his senses screaming at him to run. He couldn't see what it was but could hear the rabid rage and terrified cries.
Peter webbed the mysterious form and pulled it away from Michael, hearing a dog-like grunt of annoyance and frustration.
A pair of deep, red eyes stared back at Peter. They were similar to Klyntarus'; they had his unique shade, but Klyntarus didn't have pupils or irises. The eye shape was far too human to be Klyntarus, even if he tried to make a human body.
The eyes were what Peter was focused on at first, but then he saw what the rest of the red was.
A suit.
"Miguel?" Peter questioned, realising what, or rather who, he was looking at.
His pupils were so thin they were almost non-existent. He was shaking, breathing heavily and hunched over, foamy drool dripping onto the ground.
While Miguel didn't exist to Peter's spidey sense, this did. It wasn't the same as Klyntarus, but it was similar enough.
Miguel was swallowing air. It's like he was in a scary trance, trapped far away.
His claws were out, ready to scratch something that wasn't there. His fingers were shaking so much.
Peter felt like he was looking at a werewolf, pure instinct and consciousness battling for control, and the former was dominant.
Morbius shifted into shadows, reforming behind "Miguel". It was a stupid idea, for Miguel turned and bit Morbius' arm.
Having seen what it could do to Klyntarus, Peter grabbed his friend. The stupid villain was clawing at Miguel's face, trying to make him let go. Glowing blue was dripping from Morbius' arm - the venom was already being delivered.
"Get it off me!" Morbius yelled, turning his vampiric claws to Miguel's neck. He wouldn't let go, eyes staring at something that wasn't there.
It was clear Miguel wasn't there. He couldn't hear Peter, stuck in this bizarre and scary trance.
An idea came to Peter.
He took out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it directly into Miguel's eyes.
The trance version of his friend yowled, letting go to cover his eyes. While Morbius had left deep scratches on his face, the photophobia forced him to let go.
Morbius stumbled back, his arm shaking horribly.
Ignoring the vampire, Peter grabbed Miguel's shoulders, trying to figure out what was happening.
His "buddy" dropped his arms loosely, glowering towards Peter, but it didn't seem directed at him.
"It's me. It's Peter, alright?" Peter said, trying to get through to him. "How about we sit down? Does that sound good?"
He knew Miguel was much more powerful than him, but Peter's faster. If he needed to, Peter could stick to the walls or ceiling.
Encouraging his distant friend to sit down, Peter watched him, paying attention to his eyes.
Without any stimulation, he watched the redness in his eyes fade. When the red left, some awareness returned, replaced by confusion.
"What happened?" Peter asked, glancing at the groaning Morbius still clutching his arm.
"Había mucho ruido," Miguel muttered, rubbing his eyes. "He tried to take me. Estúpido bastardo."
The corpse's warning.
Did Klyntarus trigger a flight or fight response, only instead of Miles' invisibility, Miguel went rabid? It could've been a PTSD thing, too.
"Where's MJ?"
"She's safe," Peter said, feeling Klyntarus' presence growing. "We need to go."
Peter grabbed the taller man's side, feeling his broken ribs. That never seemed to stop him.
"I can move."
"I don't doubt that, but you still seem out of it."
The possession attempt had an impact, as he was still spaced out. It was like he was stoned or drunk.
"Happens sometimes," his friend grunted, a noise that did things Peter wished it didn't. "I didn't hurt you?"
"No. All I'm hurting from is arthritis."
"I always hurt someone..."
He didn't like hearing the sadness and regret there. And Peter couldn't say that he hadn't. He attacked Morbius and must've killed Rhino, though that seemed to be a mercy.
"Indeed."
Peter scowled at Morbius' body, watching "his" head tilt. While Peter was focused on Miguel, he didn't even realise Morbius got snatched.
He didn't like the guy, but Morbius didn't deserve that fate.
The kidnapped body was already starting to decay.
"I'm going to take everything from you, Peter. I'll break you in ways you didn't think could be broken. And I'll have him, too," Klyntarus vowed, tilting Morbius' head too far to the right. "I'll let you play with my toy for now. It'll make it all the easier to break him after I've shredded your soul."
"What's to stop me from walking over there and ripping you out of there?"
"Because you're like all the other Parkers I've eaten. You don't kill, even when you want to. You won't kill me while I'm in someone's body. It's cowardice I thankfully bred out of my true body." His friend hissed, but it only made Klyntarus smile. "You've come so far from the fragile ball of flesh I ripped from that whore wetback."
Peter can't kill. It's his greatest strength and his weakness. How is he meant to beat something that'll only stop if it's destroyed?
He needed to get Miguel out of here and look after MJ. He had to find somewhere safe for her to stay.
Regardless of how his friend felt, they needed help. They were going to get the X-Men for backup.
"Until I find a more suitable temporary vessel, Parker. Farewell."
Peter shot a web at Morbius' possessed body, but he vanished into shadow.
Another day where he could've done something but didn't have the balls. That was a theme he was getting angry at.
"Maldito cobarde."
"Yeah, to whatever you said, pal."
Xavier's going to have a field day over this.
Special thanks to spider-the-bat for the borders!
114 notes · View notes
agelessphotography · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
A group of 17 Tunisians wait for assistance on board a precarious wooden boat near the Italian island of Lampedusa, Santi Palacios, 2021
24 notes · View notes
lem0nademouth · 2 days ago
Text
so i thought the “Palestinian refugee status extends to descendants of refugees” was a bad faith misinterpretation of refugee policies by people with anti-Arab motivations. i was wrong! that’s literally the policy. more specifically it applies to the patrilineal line. so here’s a completely hypothetical but still technically completely possible scenario according to the UN’s policy on Palestinian refugee status.
Palestinian man obtains refugee status in the US in 1946. Marries Mizrahi Jewish woman, herself a refugee of the Farhud (couldn’t find info on whether she’d be granted refugee status though), they have a son in 1947. Son is Jewish by default, but for the sake of argument let’s say he’s also raised Jewish. Son marries Jewish woman, they have a son in the 1970s and make aliyah. That son marries a Jewish woman and they have a son in the 1990s. That son marries a Jewish woman and they have a son in the 2010s. That son - who is four generations removed from his most recent Palestinian ancestor - is eligible to receive refugee status. He is, in the eyes of Israeli right of return and the strictest beliefs on membership to the tribe, a Jew, born and raised in Israel, and because his paternal great grandfather was a Palestinian refugee, HE is considered a Palestinian refugee.
this particular scenario is entirely made up. it is made to show flaws in this policy. Palestinian suffering is real and it matters — we do not need to artificially inflate statistics in order for that to be true.
7 notes · View notes
rpfisfine · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
i need every single one of my boy boy followers to experience aleksa's old couchsurfing profile right this instant
22 notes · View notes
lemuseum · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
8 notes · View notes
cosmogyros · 10 months ago
Text
.
#went out on the town tonight to the so-called sketchiest area (i find it delightful)#met some friends at a café and then we strolled for a while#ended up at a cute french bar and drank orange wine#then headed to a famous noodle place and bumped into some other people they knew who joined us#the five of us ate noodles and i had an intense conversation with a mexican woman#we were discussing the way the complaint about 'immigrants not learning the language' can be understood two ways#as an american i'm very sensitive to that phrase because i'm accustomed to it being used as a subtle indicator of anti-immigrant sentiment#and here in germany it's unfortunately often used that way too so i always look closely at anyone who says that#but she pointed out that in mexico you kind of just do have to learn spanish if you want to live there successfully#so when she hears germans saying 'immigrants should learn german' she just thinks 'well yeah of course we should'#and i said yeah fair point#i think two important distinctions are 1) why did the immigrants in question come to a different country#and 2) how do we treat them when they don't learn their new country's language very rapidly#because i may be a hypocrite but i'll be honest:#i feel very differently toward a rich white american who comes to berlin 'because it's just so cool'#and doesn't put much effort into learning german 'because everyone speaks english anyway'#than i do towards a refugee who comes here fleeing death and already speaks e.g. both arabic and english#i'm inclined to give the latter a lot more leeway#sure they should do their best to learn german soon if they're planning to stay here for good#but i personally refuse to judge them in the slightest if they take a little while to make that happen#cosmo gyres#personal#language#immigration
2 notes · View notes
quotesfrommyreading · 2 years ago
Text
Spain underwent a civil war from 1936 to 1939, setting the stage for World War II. A band of military leaders headed by Franco rose up against the democratically elected Spanish government in 1936. Three violent years later, these fascist-leaning insurgents won the war, and Franco was installed as dictator.
Spain’s allegiance with the Nazis began with the Spanish Civil War. Hitler sent Condor Legion planes to bomb the northern city of Guernica—an event memorialized in a famous painting by Pablo Picasso—in 1937. Hitler also helped arm the military uprising against the democratic government throughout the civil war. Just a few years later, during World War II, Franco would return the favor by sending raw materials used to produce weapons of war to Hitler.
In the spring of 1939, half a million refugees streamed over the border from Spain to France to escape the violence, including hundreds of thousands of veterans who had fought for Spain’s elected government in the civil war.
Forced into refugee camps with little access to food and clean water along the beaches in southern France, they were given a choice: return to Spain, where they would be met with Franco’s violent revenge, or fight the Nazis.
Thousands enlisted as soldiers or manual laborers for the French Army. Others joined the French Resistance.
When France fell to the Nazis in 1940, Franco disowned the Spanish refugees he considered traitors. Germany deported 10,000 to 15,000 Spaniards to Nazi concentration camps. The Nazis killed about 60 percent of these Spanish refugees.
  —  Spain's Oft-Forgotten Nazi Ties
7 notes · View notes
daschaoscaro · 1 year ago
Text
I´m confused
Does it work like this? Am i now just sceaming into the void? will anyone see this?
5 notes · View notes
a-modernmajorgeneral · 1 month ago
Photo
La Güera (Arabic: الڭويرة al-Gūwayra; also known as La Agüera, Lagouira, El Gouera) is a ghost town on the Atlantic coast at the southern tip of Western Sahara, on the western side of the Ras Nouadhibou peninsula which is split in two by the Mauritania–Western Sahara border, 15 kilometres (9.3 mi) west of Nouadhibou. It is also the name of a daira at the Sahrawi refugee camps in south-western Algeria.
It is the southernmost town of Western Sahara. La Güera is situated south of the Moroccan Wall, and is technically abandoned.
The name La Güera comes from the Spanish word Agüera which is a ditch that carries rainwater to crops.
Foundation and settlement
La Güera came into existence in late 1920, when Spanish colonizer Francisco Bens (who had earlier taken possession of the Cape Juby region as a protectorate in 1916), after negotiating with tribal chiefs of the zone, established a fort and an air base on the western side of the Ras Nouadhibou peninsula, just a few kilometres away from the French settlement of Port-Étienne (now Nouadhibou) on the eastern side of the peninsula. (In the 1912 Convention of Madrid, Spain and France had agreed on a border between Mauritania and Spanish possessions that ran down the middle of the peninsula.)
In 1924, La Güera was incorporated into the Spanish colony of Río de Oro. During the short period (1920–1924) that the town was ruled as a separate part of the colony it released its own postage stamps.[1][2] The town was served by La Güera Airport until the 1970s.
Western Sahara War
In 1979, when Mauritania withdrew from the war, La Güera's population was estimated to be 816 inhabitants.[3]
By 2002, it had been abandoned and partially overblown by sand, inhabited only by a few Imraguen fishermen[4][5] and guarded by a Mauritanian military outpost, despite this not being Mauritanian territory.[5]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
La Agüera, Western Sahara. From The Act of Remembering, Spanish Sahara, Heba Y. Amin
325 notes · View notes
tearsofrefugees · 7 days ago
Text
0 notes
africanrefugeeswelcome · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
She is pregnant again, it has already been proven that African immigrants tend to have more children with their wives, and these men can save Europe from demographic disaster. Thank you african immigrants
Spain 🇪🇸 ❤️ Guinea 🇬🇳
61 notes · View notes
kathylbrownwrites · 5 months ago
Text
Jonathan Rose: An Author Interview
New author interview at The Storytelling Blog: Jonathan Rose writes fiction and nonfiction. Publication in both English and Spanish. Latest book, After the Flames: A Burn Victim's Battle with Celebrity. A true story. #AfterTheFlames
Jonathan Rose, author of both fiction and nonfiction books. His latest work is After the Flames: A Burn Victim’s Battle with Celebrity from Dundurn Press. Today the Storytelling Blog visits with writer Jonathan Rose, author of several books, both fiction and nonfiction. We talked via email about his books and writing process. (And Weird Al Yankovic!) Follow Jonathan on Instagram and…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
elarpa-stuff · 5 months ago
Text
The Troublesome Irish Refugees in Spain
This is the story of the troublesome Irish Refugees in Spain. Immigration and refugees are two interlinked concepts that seem unmistakably modern. Continue reading The Troublesome Irish Refugees in Spain
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
1 note · View note
head-post · 5 months ago
Text
Spain arrests suspects for sexual exploitation of Ukrainian refugees
The suspects lured Ukrainian victims with promises of refugee visas, financial support and jobs, Europol reports.
Spanish police in May this year arrested 5 suspects, identified 14 victims, and searched 5 locations. Two luxury cars, cash, electronic equipment, service employment contracts and various other documents related to the club where the victims were exploited were seized.
The criminal group, operating since 2020, recruited their victims online, mainly through social media, posing as managers of a recruitment agency. Victims were lured with offers of hostess and admin jobs. The alleged traffickers then exploited women, mostly Ukrainian women, but also citizens of Belarus, in a prostitution club in El Ejido (Almeria), Spain.
The victims were selected on the basis of their nationality and brought to Spain on tourist visas and promised legitimate work in the entertainment and tourism industry. Upon arrival in Spain, they were instructed to apply for temporary protection due to the war in Ukraine. The victims were then granted residence permits in Spain. The young women were promised work benefits related to this protection.
However, the suspects deceived them. The victims did not receive any labour contract and then they were exploited through prostitution. The criminal group made huge illegal profits by exploiting a large number of women. The victims were housed in three houses provided by the same person who ran the nightclub. By isolating the victims from the rest of society, the traffickers tried to minimise the risk of the women being detected by the police or escaping, which allowed them to contain, control and fully exploit the victims.
Europol facilitated the exchange of information and provided ongoing analytical support to the investigation. On the day of the operation, Europol deployed an expert to the site to cross-check real-time intelligence and provide experts with possible leads and technical support.
Read more HERE
Tumblr media
0 notes
cyberakasaka · 1 year ago
Text
ok so since here no one knows me i can say i actually send some money every month to help refugees BUT THE THING IS the people who are in charge keep calling me and I DONT KNOW WHY like i’ve heard they were trying to say thank u and ask me some stuff but baby i suck at social interactions and i’m a a evasive/evil person!!! just take my money!!! 🤺
1 note · View note