"Europe is for Christians only; go back to Muslim countries."
M.Q.*, a Sudanese refugee, says these were the words a Croatian police officer shouted at him before he was "beaten, robbed of his phone, passport and money, and forced to walk barefoot back into Bosnia" after trying to seek asylum in the European Union.
His account echoes years of reports recording allegations of violent pushbacks at Croatia's border. Human rights organisations, journalists, and monitoring groups have documented repeated allegations that Croatian border police use such practices to deter irregular crossings and prevent people from accessing asylum procedures.
EU law is clear on asylum rights. The 1951 Refugee Convention establishes protections for people fleeing persecution, while the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union guarantees the right to asylum. EU asylum rules require protection claims to be assessed individually by the competent authorities.
But M.Q. says he was never given the opportunity to apply for international protection, despite fleeing El-Fasher, the capital of North Darfur, after war broke out in April 2023 between Sudan's army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), triggering widespread atrocities, including killings, sexual violence, looting and mass displacement, particularly in Darfur.
"I left my country because I feared for my life, or I never would have done it," M.Q. stresses while drawing the Darfur flag on a piece of paper.
He is sitting in a field next to the woods, where the NGO No Name Kitchen distributes clothes and organises activities for refugees staying at Lipa Camp.
The container-built compound is the main temporary reception centre near Bosnia's border with Croatia, located 23 km from Bihać, the nearest major city.
This location leaves refugees and asylum seekers without transport and without access to shops where they could, for example, buy a phone after it has allegedly been confiscated or stolen during pushbacks, according to their testimonies.
Endless limbo
Here, many now wait, stranded and trapped in an endless limbo.
This story is common among M.Q.'s compatriots. A.D.*, a 25-year-old refugee from Nyala, South Darfur, has been pushed back four times.
"The last time I paid smugglers and travelled by car. They caught me at the official border, but I was lucky," he says, sitting on the roadside between the Izačić border crossing and Lipa Camp.
"There were too many people watching, so they couldn't beat me."
The walk back to Lipa Camp takes around nine hours. By then, many have spent days without proper food, clean drinking water or sleep, making each step more punishing than the last.
Their only hope is to cross paths with Red Cross outreach teams patrolling the border. The humanitarian workers distribute food, water, first aid and other essentials to people returning from failed crossing attempts, often providing the only respite before the long journey back to the camp.
The outreach teams set out from Bihać at dawn and patrol the border until nightfall.
On some days, they encounter between 10 and 50 people making the long journey back from the frontier after failed attempts to cross, many exhausted, hungry, and in need of urgent medical attention.
"I told the border police I wanted to ask for asylum in Europe, but they wouldn't let me speak," A.D. continues. "They just sent me back to the other side. There were three of us in the back of a truck."
They were collectively pushed back by the Croatian border police and denied their right to international protection, A.D. shares, adding that he has been in Bosnia for over two months, and during his previous attempts to enter Europe, he was not so fortunate.
"The first three times we went through the woods, and the second attempt was the worst. We walked for three days in the cold, crossing two watercourses," A.D. recalls.
One of those crossings was the Korana River, where several people have died in recent years while attempting to cross the border.
"When the Croatian police caught us, they beat us, tore off our winter clothes and left us half-naked in the border woods. It was night," he says.
The most recent pushback took place in April, when temperatures in the area dropped to around 4-5 degrees Celsius at night.
"I thought the hardest part was over when I managed to leave Sudan," he says. "But my journey of more than three years had only just begun."
Borders and brutality
From Nyala, one of the first major cities in Darfur to fall under RSF control, he crossed into Chad and Libya, where he suffered violence at the hands of militias.
He then sailed on a small boat, spending three days at sea before reaching Greece.
From there, he travelled through North Macedonia, Kosovo, Montenegro, and finally Bosnia and Herzegovina — for most of the journey, he walked.
"I thought I could find relief and shelter in Europe, but all I found was beatings and Islamophobia," he shares.
Beyond the Sudanese diaspora, thousands of people attempt to reach the European Union through irregular migration routes every year, with the Western Balkans remaining one of the main corridors into Europe.
Germany, one of Europe's largest destinations for asylum seekers, received 113,236 first-time asylum applications in 2025.
The largest groups of applicants came from Afghanistan (23,972), Syria (23,256) and Turkey (9,801), reflecting major displacement crises and migration pressures affecting neighbouring regions.
However, official asylum statistics record people only after they submit a protection claim and do not capture the full journeys they undertake before reaching European countries.
Many people travelling through transit countries remain absent from official data until they reach a destination country or enter an asylum procedure.
This gap is particularly significant along the Western Balkans route.
According to Frontex , the European Border and Coast Guard Agency, 13,987 irregular border crossings were detected along the route in 2025.
These figures represent detected crossings, rather than the total number of people attempting the journey, meaning they capture only part of the movement along the route.
These figures are not only conservative but deeply misleading, largely because of the invisibility of people on the move, who are often detected only at the starting point and then disappear from official records until they reappear in their destination country.
Nevertheless, allegations of violence by Croatian border police have been extensively documented by NGOs and international organisations.
"We witness people bitten by police dogs, sometimes with deep wounds. The testimonies we have gathered tell us about the use of tasers, batons and pepper spray," says Silvia Maraone, Bosnia coordinator for the NGO IPSIA, which also operates inside Lipa Camp.
"What we find particularly alarming is that these practices are used against everyone: men, women and children, regardless of their vulnerability," the humanitarian worker explains.
In 2025, Save the Children documented the continued vulnerability of children travelling along the Western Balkans route, highlighting cases of unaccompanied and separated children affected by violence, exploitation and alleged pushbacks at the Croatia-Bosnia and Herzegovina border.
The organisation has warned that children are among those most severely affected by violent border practices and gaps in protection services along the route.
In addition to her work in Lipa, Silvia coordinates and works at the only centre for unaccompanied minors along the route.
The safe house welcomes children travelling alone, many of whom report severe trauma and allegations of violence at the hands of the Croatian authorities.
I.T.*, a 17-year-old boy from north-eastern Syria, first attempted to cross the border at age 15.
"When he came to us, his jaw was broken. The Croatian police had struck him so hard with batons that he had to undergo surgery to repair it," Silvia explains.
The fear and terror in his eyes are evident as he recounts his story. One detail he often returns to is the theft of his passport.
"After the Assad regime fell in late 2024, I considered going back to Syria or reuniting with my family, who are now in Turkey," I.T. tells The New Arab.
"But the Croatian police had stolen my passport, so I couldn't go back unless I travelled alone and on foot."
After everything he had been through, that was no longer an option.
*Real name not used to protect identities
Annaflavia Merluzzi is an Italian freelance journalist covering Africa, the Middle East, and West Asia, with a focus on human rights, migration, and conflict. She has reported from Palestine, Lebanon, Kenya, Morocco and the Western Balkans, and her work has appeared in national and international publications
Follow her on Instagram: @annaflaviamerluzzi_
Giovanni Morgavi is a photojournalist focused on crisis, migration and conflicts. He has worked in Egypt, Italy and the Balkan region
Follow him on Instagram: @gianni_morgah