***
My brother, Bereke Kesete, was born in the year 2000 in rural Eritrea, into a family of farmers. We grew up in the countryside, rooted to the land and to each other. Some of my most beautiful memories are of him as a little boy riding on my shoulders while we worked our rich farmland with joy, laughter, and love.
In 2017, Bereke left Eritrea. He went first to Ethiopia and stayed there for a year, then continued to South Sudan, hoping to finally settle and build a safe life. But when instability followed him there too, he made the agonizing decision to keep moving toward Libya, crossing the dangerous Sahara Desert all for a glimpse of a future.
For five long years, he lived a life of hardship and uncertainty, a life of purgatory in Libya. Still, his hope never dimmed. Again and again, he tried to cross the Mediterranean Sea to Europe, not because he wanted to leave home, but because he wanted safety, dignity, and a chance at a simple life. Many times he was stopped and detained. Many times his dreams were postponed. But his spirit, that stubborn, beautiful light inside him, refused to surrender.
On April 26, 2025, my beloved little brother disappeared in the Mediterranean Sea together with 45 young Eritreans. There has been no trace of him since.
The last time I heard his voice was one day before his journey. We spoke on the phone. His voice was a fragile mix of hope and fear, yet still clinging to faith. That voice—his voice, lives inside me now. It echoes in my heart.
Bereke, you were so much more than a word like “migrant.”
You were a farmer’s son. You were my brother. You were a child of the earth, a soul radiant with its own gentle light.
We shared a childhood of simple, profound joy in our rich, red fields. Those memories are a part of me; they will never fade.
You are forever in my heart, my beloved brother. Gone from this world far, far too soon. I will remember you always. Your life mattered. It truly, deeply mattered.
With all my love,
Hadgu, your brother
Rest in peace, my dear Bereke Kesete.
***
