In a sleepy Bosnian town, barely five miles from the border with the European Union, a crumbling old water tower is falling into ruin. Inside, piles of rubbish, used cigarette butts and a portable wood-fired stove offer glimpses into the daily life of the people who briefly called the building home. Glued on to the walls is another clue: on pieces of A4 paper, the same message is printed out, again and again: “If you would like to travel to Europe (Italy, Germany, France, etc) we can help you. Please add this number on WhatsApp”. The message is printed in the languages of often desperate people: Somali, Nepali, Turkish, the list goes on. The last translation on the list indicates a newcomer to this unlucky club. It is written in Chinese.
Bihać water tower was once used to replenish steam trains travelling across the former Yugoslavia. Now it provides shelter to a different kind of person on the move: migrants making the perilous journey through the Balkans, with the hope of crossing into Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina’s neighbour in the EU.
