During a visit to Belgrade’s train station in February, men and boys, layered in blankets to ward off the freezing cold, emerge from dilapidated buildings next to the historic station as commuters hurry to their buses and trams. As I watch refugees cross the roads alongside locals, it is clear they have become invisible to those around them. Among them are hundreds of children, some of whom appear to be as young as 9. By May, however, even the refuge of Belgrade’s warehouses at the station would cease to be an option for the asylum seekers biding their time to cross the last border to Europe. Serbian authorities evacuated all the men and boys from the premises, claiming the warehouses were a health hazard and exposed inhabitants to the risk of trafficking and abuse.
