Rare view of Libyan role in ending migration
Panorama has returned to West Africa to once again pick up the trail of migrants who are willing to risk everything for the chance of a new life in Europe.
Following on from my work in Destination Europe in September 2007 and Destination UK in January 2008, I have kept a travel log of the team's experiences.
Over the weeks leading up to our programme,
- which was broadcast on Monday, 14 September on ´óÏó´«Ã½ One - I blogged about everything from the palpable emotion of a cave that was once used to process slaves being shipped to America, to the delicate negotiations of dangerous border crossings, to a treacherous trip through the barren Sahara that claims the lives of desperate migrants on a near-daily basis.
My work on this topic continues, with Panorama's next installment of the story, Migrants, Go Home! due for broadcast on ´óÏó´«Ã½ One on Monday, 5 October. In this programme, we examine the Libyan role in halting the flow of migrants to Europe.
The Libyan border and the armed people's region.
There are footsteps on the sand near a common crossing point. The Libyans employ desert nomads who can read tracks like this. "Six o'clock this morning," they say, "three men".
We drive further, and the dunes are like none I've seen before. We ask four of the pickups to drive towards them, thinking the foot of the dunes is about 400 metres away and it'll make a good shot. They head off, and keep going and going until they're almost gone. They are tiny ants on the dune.
It's difficult to film. If you shoot a close up, there is just a wall of sand behind them and you can't tell how vast the dunes are. If you shoot a wide, the vehicles are so small you can't see them at all.
Such is the scale of the Sahara.
In the afternoon there is a radio message. Another unit has made a discovery. We race off again and there on a plain is a group of Africans.
They were caught crossing the border. There limbs are pipe-cleaner thin and they are being given water by the Libyan border patrols. They say they are farmer from Niger.
One of the men looks like a grandfather, with folds of skin around his throat and over his eyes. I ask him how old he is, and he shows me an identity card. He is 41.
It's unclear whether any of them were heading for Europe. They are so exhausted all they can do is sit and wait for the trucks which will take them to a Libyan detention centre.
We have been given rare permission to visit one of these detention centres before we return to Tripoli.