We are quietly seated around a table and Ahmed decides to tell us his story in detail. He comes from the South of Somalia and his city of origin is a few kilometres away from the borders of Ethiopia and Kenya. His family – father and mother, two sisters and a little brother – are still there, waiting for Ahmed to reach his destination. He is the eldest son, and is sixteen years old. He talks raising his head and large eyes and articulating his sentences in a sharp English. He wears his red hat, the one he reserves for special occasions, the one he wouldn’t wear when sleeping on the station floor, waiting to cross the border.