By Jacob Axelrad
On the main drag in Oujda, a border city that most Moroccans have never visited, a neon sign hanging from a balcony reads “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas.”
But for thousands of migrants who wash up here, life is anything but fabulous. One of them, a Ghanian who calls himself Afro, sits in a restaurant called Mr. Smith, under the neon sign. Sipping water, he talks about life as an undocumented migrant in Morocco.
“Without any documents my life here is broke,” he says. “If the police pull you, the first thing he will ask is, ‘Where are your papers?’ But I don’t have any papers. So I can be attacked by the Moroccan authorities.” (more…)