“Is there anything you’re taking with you to Kansas now that you’re leaving?” I ask. He looks at me questioningly, “Besides my clothes?” Suddenly his face lights up. OUR Chanel Benoit, a giant of 2.05 height, rises a little from the chair on which he has somehow managed to get comfortable for some time, takes out a laminated icon of the Virgin from his pocket and shows it to me. “I’ll take this one. It was given to me by a lawyer who did procedures for me. Today she was with me for an interview, and the visa to America was approved,” he replies. Does he believe in God? “I believe there is. I don’t know how exactly. But it is there,” he says.

The 18-year-old boy sitting opposite me will board a plane to America next Friday. His final destination is Kansas, namely Bethany College for a Bachelor of Arts degree, where he will study for a scholarship due to his athletic achievements in basketball. “I will study and try to read as much as I can. And I will train. I’m fast, but I need to develop my technique. I can be a lot better,” he says stubbornly. He radiates youthful impatience. When he returns four years later, he hopes everything goes well and goes according to “plan,” he tells me. He will have a place in Panathinaikos basketball teamin the teenage academy where he discovered and developed his talent.

“Calvary”

His story is in many ways similar to that of many other children who arrived unaccompanied in Greece at the height of the refugee crisis and have since been protected: he left Cameroon alone, dogged by civil war, in 2016. A few months later and while it had not yet closed at the age of 12, it arrived at Leros in an inflatable boat. The details are shocking.

“I was an orphan and alone. I was at school and I was told that my house had been set on fire. I returned to find that everything had been burned and my parents were dead. I couldn’t really recognize them, but I assumed that the two burnt men in the rubble must be my parents. That’s what a civil war is. My aunt, my mother’s sister, hid me for two days, and then – I don’t know how she did it and how much she paid – gave me to someone to be taken to Turkey. That’s how I arrived in Constantinople.” With this narration, Chanel answered my question “why did he leave Cameroon.” In Turkey, he stayed for about six months – his age and lack of knowledge of the language did not allow him to calculate the exact time – in a house with about 40 other people of all ages, waiting for his turn to go to Greece.

Many started but turned back after being caught by the police. In the meantime, he was washing dishes to provide for his daily meals. “Fortunately, it is possible to work in Turkey even if you are a minor,” he says with a smile.

I was at school and I was told that my house had been set on fire. I returned to find that everything had been burned and my parents were dead.

He stayed in Leros for only one month before being placed in The Home Project’s hostel for unaccompanied minors in the area of ​​Agios Nikolaos. At first it was very difficult, he did not know the language, did not know where he was, and was always angry. Today, he knows that what happened next looks like the good fairy decided to play a trick on him and change his fate.

The Home Project is a non-profit organization dedicated to the protection of unaccompanied minors and provides support, protection, education and social inclusion services. To date, it has supported over 900 children and provided 170 jobs. It works closely with ACS to educate children and in this context, Chanel Benoit was chosen to attend on a scholarship. The college also saw his prowess in basketball. “I played football, but I wouldn’t say very good,” he says, smiling broadly again. In the spring, before starting his studies, he was chosen to attend classes at the Panathinaikos Youth Academy. “Everyone told me that I should try my luck at basketball,” he says.

Applications

Even before graduation, he had already applied to several universities in America asking to be accepted for scholarships, always based on his academic performance. Accepted by the three, he chose Bethany College.

Why not in France? After all, his native language is French. “Yeah, but I managed to hide my English accent, didn’t I?” His laugh is lively, sonorous. I think if his parents were alive, they would be so proud. “I want to go to France, to Paris. For every child in Cameroon, Paris is heaven. I want to see the Eiffel Tower up close, take a picture and it seems that I am in front of the tower, that I am there. But for basketball, the country is America,” he concludes.

“You are afraid?” I ask. “I’m excited,” he replies. “I’ll do my best. The university is far from the city center, so I will definitely be isolated and it will be easier for me to concentrate. No parties, no drinks. Just exercising and reading,” he tells me, looking like he is mainly concerned with himself . “I have a goal. And when I return, I will be ready to play for Panathinaikos.

He knows nothing about the rest of his family in Cameroon. “I don’t even know if anyone is there,” he explains. However, “I am not alone. I have many friends here in Greece. Greeks, Africans, Afghans, people from many countries. I wouldn’t be able to do anything if they didn’t help me. You can’t do anything on your own.”