A Colombian journalist travels to the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic to meet the embattled people struggling against a 50-year displacement from their homeland
It’s three in the morning on the outskirts of Tindouf, the biggest city in southwestern Algeria.
The plane, flying in from Algiers, touches down in the middle of darkness. As the aircraft doors open, the dry air sticks to our faces like permanent makeup. The Sahara desert’s 32-degree heat rises up through the soles of our shoes, turning them into bona fide firepits.
The Algerian official looks at our passports with disdain and, in rough French, orders us to quickly fill in the immigration forms. Less than a metre away, at the same table, the Sahrawi official smiles and clarifies in Spanish that not all Algerians are this tiresome. “Welcome to the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic (SADR)!” he says.
