Imagine a thrilling tale unfolding in Finland, where a flurry of migrants are stirring the air with tension and anticipation. The scene is staged at the Vaalimaa and Niirala crossings; these twin doors into the nordic wonderland were briefly re-opened, like a momentary sigh of relief in an ongoing drama that powers on at the border with Russia.
Just picture it, this once serene landscape, its tranquility punctuated by the hum of movement, the shadows of changes carved not by nature’s hand, but by humanity. The Finnish government is crying wolf, casting accusing glares towards Moscow, suspecting them of channeling migrants onto Finnish soil to sow the seeds of discord. Russia, of course, refutes such claims.
Simply think of the bewilderment! Samuli Murtonen, a man whose routine day job suddenly turned into an unwritten chapter of a thriller, echoes the shock. As deputy border commander, he tells YLE, the Finnish broadcaster, “This is an exceptional phenomenon. We have never seen traffic like this before.” As we turn our gaze towards this sudden influx, the weight of his words rings true in our ears.
Understand the complexity of this situation. The Finnish Border Guard, in their stoic, measured demeanor, note the arrival of migrants sans proper documentation at both crossed thresholds. The Finnish government swiftly responds, though, shutting the entries again by Friday, 8 p.m. An interlude in the incessant tale of border crossings.
But let us breathe life into this story's backdrop. Last November, Helsinki took a drastic step, shutting off the theatre’s stage - a staggering frontier spanning 1,340 kilometers. Their worry - Moscow playing puppeteer, using migrants as chess pieces in a sinewy game of 'hybrid warfare.'
Gaze upon the numbers that fuel this narrative. Nearly 1,000 wanderers reached this boundary, scattering their tales from August to the end of November. The fingerprint of this human tide – close to 900 of them marked out in November alone - hinting at an unusual surge. The accusations volleyed towards Russia, painting a picture of a puppet master nudging these asylum seekers towards the heavily patrolled border.
As our storytelling canvas stretches into the cold winter night, the only light piercing the darkness is from the cargo train’s checkpoint, left alone in the sea of eight shuttered passenger and vehicle crossing points. A solitary beacon, mirroring the lonely journey of the many migrants who walked this path.
The souls braving this chaos hail from distant homelands - Syria, Somalia and Yemen. Each carries their dreams and hopes, seeking sanctuary in Finland, an unsuspecting protagonist with its 5.6 million residents standing as a bulwark of NATO's northeastern flank and serving as Europe's northern guardian.
And so, the story unfurls, echoing the global pulse of migration, a symphony of movement that is as heart-breaking as it is hopeful, changing the face of our world one step, one border crossing, at a time.
