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Freddie (24) is from Comayagua in Honduras. Freddie doesn’t blame his difficult upbringing for how his life turned out, but he does believe it affected him. When he was seven years old, his mum left for Spain leaving him with his alcoholic father.

“My dad hit me for pure pleasure. He hit me because he wanted to.”  

He became depressed and went looking for drugs and joined gangs where he started stealing and assaulting people.

“Crack, cocaine, methamphetamine. I used it all.”

He left home when he was 13 years old, tired of copping beatings from his dad. He went to Mexico but was deported to Honduras. When he was 16, he fell in love for the first time and moved in with the girl. But he was involved in gangs and he was using too many drugs.

“I fucked up,” he confesses. “I did something I did not have to do. That’s why she is not here anymore.”

Freddie says the police wanted revenge after he stole from them. They came to his house looking for him. Since he was not there, they killed his girlfriend instead and blamed him for her death. He fled Honduras afraid the police would kill him as well. He entered the United States and applied for political asylum. However, during that process he returned to his old habits.

“I was traumatised with psychological problems because of what happened to her,” Freddie says.

He started using drugs again and he stole to pay for his habit. He spent two and a half years in the Federal Detention Centre in Houston. The first charge was for illegal possession. The second charge was for car robbery. After that he was deported to Honduras. In prison, he had to occupy his time somehow otherwise he became stressed and nervous. He read books, worked out, or he tattooed himself. He has tattoos all over his arms and legs.

When Freddie was deported to Honduras he was scared for his life. He believes the police told his old gang members to kill him the moment he returned. He fled the country three times trying to escape a death sentence but was deported each time by Mexican immigration authorities. The last time was about a month ago. They sent him back to Honduras barefoot. Now that he walks with the caravan he feels safe from deportation.

When he was in jail in Houston, Freddie decided to turn his life around.

“I said “hell no”. This is not my life. I prayed every day for God to help me.”

Nowadays he only uses marijuana for medicinal purposes to alleviate the pain from injuries sustained while being a gang member. He says his shoulder was dislocated, he had a rib broken and he shows me numerous bullet wounds.

“I thank God for being alive. For giving me one more chance to live and take advantage of nature, life and now I’m trying to change my life again. To start from scratch.”

Freddie doesn’t intend to enter the US and he says he will only stay in Tijuana for a few days. He wants to go to Spain to see his mother. I don’t know how he thinks this will be possible.

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