Lamarana was born in Liberia, but after his father's death his mother decided to return to the village of her birth in Guinea. As his mother's only child, Tierno, who was six years old at the time, had to help with work on the family's farm. During those years he also attended the village school and gained a good command of French - quite an admirable achievement under such conditions. In light of his achievements, one of his uncles from Conakry, the capital, suggested that he go to Egypt to continue his studies. Tierno jumped at the opportunity and went in the summer of 2004.

Cairo was a first disappointment for him. "We are Muslims, too, and I didn't know that Arabs hate Africans so much," he related in an interview at the prison last week. "They told me that Egypt was a good country for someone who wants to study, but I discovered that for someone who doesn't have money, it is not at all a good place."

He studied in a kind of preparatory course offered by the Union of African Students in Cairo, and received monetary help from that organization. After his studies he worked in a market. After seven months the organization encountered financial difficulties and the assistance stopped coming.

A person Tierno met in the market suggested that he immigrate to a neighboring country, Israel. Tierno, who until then had never heard the name, inquired as to what kind of country it is. That is where the Al-Aqsa Mosque is, said the man. Tierno assumed that it is a Muslim country. The man took all his money, $250, and in return drove him to Sinai, where he gave him over to three Bedouin.

"They held me there for a week, with another youth from the Ivory Coast," he related. "The Bedouin demanded more money, but we didn't have any. They stripped us and searched us, and they were very angry when they didn't find any money. They said, 'You are in our hands and we will not release you until we get the money.' Sometimes they hit us and threatened to kill us."

After a week, the two took advantage of an opportunity and ran away, escaped through the barbed wire and crossed the border. They came to a road and hid in the bushes alongside it, until they heard a car approaching. The driver, who spoke Hebrew and Arabic, told them that they were in Israel.

'Call when you get out'

June, 2005: According to his birth certificate, Tierno was born in 1988 and is therefore being held in the minors' wing at Tzohar. The minors get more attention at the prison, but their release is contingent on finding them a guardian - an adult who will be responsible for them. Most of the other youths held at the facility at present are from Ghana, Nigeria and Ethiopia. Tierno wants to know more about the country in whose prison he is sitting. He tries to communicate with the other youths, but he does not speak much English.

July, 2005: The television is full of stories on the preparations for the disengagement. Tierno sees how, one after the other, the Ghanaians and the Nigerians are being released. Adults from their countries are coming to the prison and are promising in writing to serve as their guardians; the youths write down telephone numbers for him and depart with "Call when you get out." When they release the young man from the Ivory Coast who crossed the border with him, Tierno is certain that any day now he, too, will be released. When after a week he is not let go, he begins to lose hope.

August, 2005: Tierno remains alone in the minors' dormitory at the prison. Every day they take him outside for an hour. The heat of August reminds him that in his country it is now the rainy season. He wonders whether anyone is helping his mother, and thinks how much she must be worrying about him after not having heard from him for months. At night he sits on his bed in the dark and cries. He is afraid that he is going to lose his sanity.

September, 2005: The minors' wing is filling up again. This time, among the new detainees there are people from his country, who were apprehended at the border or in Tel Aviv. When volunteers from Moked - the Hotline for Migrant Workers, arrive at the prison, he almost begs: Get me out of here. Send me back to Guinea or Liberia, just get me out of here. The volunteers promise to act toward his release, but because of a series of mistakes - the first of which stemmed from a similarity between Tierno's name and that of another detainee who was not a minor - he misses at least one opportunity to leave the prison. When the mistake is discovered, the state refuses to release him without a guardian, as can be done for adults.

October, 2005: With the help of two Bedouin youths from Sinai, Tierno finds out the exact date of the start of the Ramadan fast. At first he is afraid to tell the police that he is fasting, but one day an Arab policeman asks him about it and Tierno admits that he is fasting. From that day on during the holiday, they serve him one meal a day, at the end of the fast - better and more festive food.

December, 2005: A refugee from Liberia volunteers to serve as his guardian and take him out of the prison, and Tierno is filled with hope. This is truncated when the judge at the Guardianship Court disqualifies the Nigerian from serving as a guardian. Tierno remains in prison. Now the days are cold, but he barely notices.

"In prison all the days are the same," he says. "You get up in the morning, you eat something, you play cards or watch television, you go outside for an hour, you go back to your room, you play or watch television. Sometimes I think about what I could have done with the time I have lost."

Veteran prisoner

January, 2006: The prison is inundated with minors from Guinea who have been caught crossing the border. No one has time to deal with the most veteran prisoner, Tierno. Some boys from Guinea go on a hunger strike in protest against the long time they have been incarcerated. The Immigration Administration calls in representatives of the Red Cross to talk to them. Tierno tells the Red Cross representative that he wants to return to Guinea and she promises to help him and even gives him pocket money - NIS 100. He never hears from her again.

May 18, 2006: Tierno marks a year in prison. On this day, he says: "I thought about that I've been in prison for a whole year now. Others, who like me entered Israel illegally, have come and gone, and I have remained here like the seeds at the bottom of the sack, which rot from not being used."

At the end of the month the Immigration Administration says it is transferring the minors to its prison in Hadera. For Tierno, the move only exacerbates his despair. "I feel as though the prison is changing and only my life is remaining the same."

July, 2006: Hotline for Migrant Workers volunteers again request his release and even arrange for a place in a residential facility in the center of the country. But exactly at that moment, after more than a year during which Tierno is imprisoned as a minor, the state decides to examine his palm, in order to confirm his age. In the examination conducted last week, it was discovered that he is apparently older than the 17 years that are registered in this birth certificate. On Monday he was transferred to Maasiyahu prison, which is for adults, and is his third prison in Israel.

He is back to zero again. "In any case I feel like an old person who is only waiting for his death," he says. "I am sitting here without knowing why and without knowing until when I'll be sitting here. If one day they take me out, the first thing I will do is to walk for one kilometer without stopping, just to know that I can do it. More than that I don't know. I don't think about the future, because I have no future."