"I can no longer sleep outside": exiles on the street in front of the Paris City Hall to demand accommodation

Barely posed, already removed. This Thursday at 1:30 p.m., the tents did not resist the police for long, deployed in large numbers on the forecourt of the Paris City Hall. Provided by the Utopia 56 association, inside are families with young children and babies, homeless. The aim of today's operation: "Give visibility to migrants who sleep on the street, and find them a dignified and lasting accommodation solution", says Pierre, an activist for the association.

Among the 250 people present, "newcomers, asylum seekers and rejected asylum seekers" who, even while working, are unable to find accommodation. "While anyone in distress has the right to a roof. It's in the law. Unfortunately, it does not apply to everyone," laments Chrystel Chatoux, co-president of Utopia 56.

Similar actions have been carried out in recent months by the association. In September, nearly 1,200 people were sheltered after the occupation of the André-Citroën park, in the south of Paris. And in July, 600 migrants had taken over the Place des Vosges, again to claim places of accommodation.

This time, at the end of the rally in front of the town hall, "125 people will be able to be sheltered in a gymnasium in the 19th arrondissement". A relief for families, but "a temporary solution, and therefore not permanent", regrets Chrystel Chatoux. Nearly 100 people remained homeless by early evening Thursday.

"I can't stand the cold"

Earlier in the afternoon, Vassadia, an Ivorian exile in France since 2010, hoped to sleep this night "warm". Despite his job as a cleaning agent in companies and a residence permit, it is impossible for him, his partner, and Macani, their two-year-old daughter, to find accommodation. "The little one has obtained refugee status, and we don't know yet. In the meantime, the three of us sleep in the Bercy district, under a tent," he explains.

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Beside him, his wife, Houleye, clings to a stroller with several bags hanging from it. Inside, "clothes for Macani", and some blankets. "Me, I only have that," says the young woman born in Mali, pointing to a thin black leggings, a jacket and flip flops, which she wears today.

"I can't sleep outside anymore, it's been going on for two months. I can't stand the cold. Twice, I ended up going to sleep in the station [de Bercy ndlr] with my daughter, explains- she wiped her tears. Often I call 115, I wait all day for an answer. And at 8:30 p.m. they tell me that there is no room for us. It's always the same story".

A daily disappointment shared by Mariam, a 33-year-old Ivorian who arrived in France three months ago. And almost as much to sleep outside, also in Bercy. "My children [aged 8 and 15] are going to start school on November 8, but we have nowhere to go. For homework, how are we going to do it?". In the next tent, fellow 31-year-old Sila sleeps outside "every night", covered only by a faux leather jacket someone gave her.

An unbroken determination

As time passes, on the forecourt, the police evacuate several members of the association and the exiles, escorted to the nearest metro station. The safety cordon tightens around the group. But Arda, who came with her two children aged 2 and 1, has no intention of leaving. This young Ethiopian is "tired of sleeping in different places almost every night". "On good days, we find refuge in churches".

The father of little Issa, 1 year old, did not think that life in France would be "so difficult". Passed through Libyan prisons and the central Mediterranean, the Ivorian migrant wants "just a simple life", and "stability". His asylum application – and his appeal – rejected, he spent most of his nights in a room lent by the parish of Passy, ​​with his wife and son.

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Two hours after the start of the operation, there are only sixty people left. The red, green, and blue tents were loaded into an unmarked truck parked nearby. The initial tension has subsided, but the exiles' determination is intact. The slogans "children on the street", "we want houses", and "we are tired" burst out, punctuated by the sound of plastic bottles colliding. The children now play together and make the scene look like a playground. Cheikh, 2 years old, pulls a small yellow car out of his pocket and rolls it gently down the square. Under the watchful eye of law enforcement.