After attending an event in Bonn about Balochistan in April 2022, we stopped at Lützerath on our way back. Lützerath was a resistance camp—one of the first efforts to block the RWE coal mine, which had become a focal point for Germany’s rising climate change resistance movement. The entrance roads were blocked with cardboard, branches, and stones. Treehouses were built to slow down the inevitable evacuation. Workshops were held daily, and strategies were crafted to counter police invasions. It wasn’t just a protest against a coal mining company anymore; it had evolved into a global resistance hub. The court had already ruled in favor of the mining company, and it was only a matter of time before the police would evacuate the place. The activists were determined to fight—one last attempt to save the villages that were doomed to be destroyed.

For me, it was an escape from my own traumatized mind, entangled in German bureaucracy, my asylum case, the atrocities in Balochistan, and the exile that feels like a chronic disease for those of us who can never return home. Lützerath felt soothing, like my village. Firewood crackled in the air, and the smell of food cooking brought a sense of comfort. People were sharing spaces, connecting with each other, and finding solace in this community.

My interest was a selfish one; I saw it as a good place to retreat for a weekend. After waiting over six years for my asylum application, I was unable to think beyond my immediate need for peace.

Not long after, there was a protest in Lützerath. It was there that I first met Sulti.

Sulti was a young, energetic activist........

© Balochistan Times