“I will take you back 40 years. I will take you to a beautiful country and to a beautiful family that lived in the countryside,” says Galina from Ukraine with a sweet smile like you have when you start to tell a fairy tale. From fairy tales without a name – or rather, from fairy tales, where everyone “sees” their own name. “Mom and dad are working. When they return, mom starts doing all the housework. We also had animals, she also took care of the animals,” she says, giving away that she is talking about her family, about her memories. At that time he would have been five years old. “Dad was always happy, always rested, played with us. Our mom doesn’t. I don’t remember him ever asking us, “How are you at school?” She has always been very busy with her work. I helped her too, stoked the stove, removed the ashes, brought coals. All this because I was a girl.”

Galina pauses to take a sip of tea. I am watching the omigiri, a group of women of all ages from all corners of the world who have gathered on the Migrant Bee Network to talk about their own experiences on the occasion of the International Day for the Elimination of Gender Violence, an initiative of psychologist Thalia Network Orange. Most of them smile meaningfully. In all languages, “because I was a girl” means the same thing.

Wing Solidarity

A woman from Ukraine continues the story: “We always had a lot of food at home. When mom cooked chicken, the leg always went to dad. I ate the wing, and my mother ate the neck and butt,” he laughs. But he is absolutely serious. “We didn’t need a leg. We knew it wasn’t for us. Years passed, I left home, started my own family. When I share a chicken, I give my husband one leg and my son the other. I always keep a wing behind me. I want her. But no one says “take it too”. And my mom too. Even now that daddy is dead, she’ll save the best part of the chicken for someone else, not for herself. I do it too, a lot of women do it because that’s how we grew up.”

And again the company unites in comradely solidarity. Wing solidarity.

Women from more than 50 countries passed through Melissa, knots of the same thread. “Some come from countries where there is war, others from homes where there is war,” said Network co-founder Nadina Christopoulou. “The cycle of instability continues in travel, often peaking in ‘safe’ countries.” We know about this vulnerability, we all face it,” he says. Razia from Afghanistan takes the floor. “I remember my mother wouldn’t let me go to school. At the age of 9, she considered me old enough and was afraid that there would be boys at school. I was upset. I really wanted to go to school, as did my brother, who was younger, only 6 years old.” But he was a boy.

Years passed, Razia grew up, looking for happiness abroad. Married. Today she is raising two children, and in the evenings she goes to a Greek evening school. “I am going to school for the first time in my life. I’m very happy”.

Mahbube sits next to Razia. It could be her sister, but she’s from Iran. “I have had a very difficult life,” he begins almost in a monologue. “My country had very strict rules for women. Only men had the right to vote, women could not choose anything. They believe that women are not capable of anything without a father or brother. I stayed and wrestled for 13 years, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I came to Greece, I came to Melissa, the best school for me. This is where I learned to deal with violence. When someone yelled at me, I remained silent. Here I learned to protect my body, to protect myself. Here I do everything myself. I bring money home, I’m strong. I’m happy that Greek culture wants women to love themselves. Now I have the courage to break the violence. Fuck it,” he says to applause.

Rape and guilt

From the other side of the room, Emma from Gabon gets up. Silence immediately sets in, it seems that he wants to share something important. “When I was raped by someone very close to me, a friend advised me to tell my mom. But I was afraid of how he would react. I finally went. He started crying, started yelling at me, hit me, made me feel guilty. I have never been able to explain her behavior, but today I can say that I understand her. She was a single mother in Africa with no outside help. Today I have two sons, and it is not easy, although I have the help of Melissa, the help of a psychologist. This was not the case in Africa. That’s where I found my strength. Whatever they told me in the past, I kept it to myself. Now I say no. I know who I am, I am a strong woman. Yes, women can feel like men too. And women can feel empowered.”

At the end of the discussion, the people of Melissa give the signal for the distribution of food. Musk cakes, pies, sweets, Egyptian pine nut pilaf, handmade spring rolls, Filipino noodles – and what not on this table. First of all, it has warmth, it has security. A little later, as I approach the car, I turn and look at the building. Is it a coincidence that there was once a maternity hospital here?