While I was queuing the posts for the rest of the month of the “European Union Undocumented Death Toll Calendar”, I was confronted with how many of the dead remain unnamed. Just N.N bodies found, discarded or drowned or crushed by engines, sometimes just scattered body parts washed ashore. And this lack of naming also implies the lack of emotions that come with a name, the lack of affect that can only be given by a name, by a relatable convention of humanity.

And of course, I was reminded of the N.N graves, growing up during the dictatorship, when the military wanted to achieve exactly that: no names, no grieving, no identifying with the victim. But that was the dictatorship and this is Europe. Though the unnamed remain eerily close in origins.

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