Ordinary people from France share their experiences of Muslim Migration

On the website Bare Naked Islam people from all over the European Union were invited to share their stories about how the flood of Muslim migrants affects their lives.

BNI invites women and men in the European Union to post their stories about the Muslim invasion and how it is affecting your lives. NO NAMES will be revealed, just countries. The media will not post your stories, but your warnings must be heard before it’s too late.

The response to the sites invitation was so enthusiastic that I decided to post a separate article for each country. Today we will focus on two stories from France. This is the truth as seen through the eyes of French people who are not reading about Muslim migration through the lens of the MSM but are experiencing it personally.

NOTE: These were posted before the terrorist attacks in Paris.

fran-MMAP-md

 Date:25/10/15

 I have a story I want to share with you, I own a hair salon in Lyon, France and I used to have a muslim client – a 32 year old woman – one day in may her husband showed up in my salon and told me that if I styled his wife hair or polished her nails or dyed her hair again he would strangle me and burn my house and salon then he called me (and my clients) whores, kicked a magazine rack and left.

I went to the police station and he was charged with death treaths but only spent one night in the cell! I hope this site reports a bit more about what is happening here in France, the muslim violence is suffocating and omnipresent.


 

Date:26/10/15

I’m a middle-aged woman who lives in Normandy.  3 weeks ago in early October I was in the Gare de l’Est on a Friday afternoon traveling alone from Paris to Strasbourg. The train station was packed with travelers.  I noticed an African man, a Somali or Eritrean, strolling through the station wearing filthy torn clothes – it was obvious that this was one of the recent “migrants” to Europe.

As I was entering a shop near the platforms to purchase a gift for the person I was visiting, this “migrant” bounded up from behind me, stabbed me in the back with a sharp pointed object, and just kept walking.  I immediately screamed at him at the top of my lungs “Hey you! What are you doing??!! (actually with profanity)” I looked around and the literally dozens of travelers all around me waiting for their trains but all pretended to have not seen or heard anything.

I dropped my bag and started feeling around my own back to see if I was bleeding. There was no blood, as I had been stabbed with a blunt object like a tactical pen. I was trying to examine my own back literally 50 centimeters away from a Frenchman who had witnessed the incident but did not offer to help me. The shopkeeper had also witnessed the incident but didn’t offer assistance or call the police.

I walked to the Police office in the Gare de l’Est which is covered in mirrors. If there was a way to enter it or a door, it was all so well hidden that I finally gave up trying.  I finally found a station security guard, and told him that I had been assaulted.  He immediately became very upset with me and told me immediately to go to the police station. He couldn’t be rid of me fast enough.  He did not offer to escort me or find a policeman, and I didn’t bother telling him that I’d already tried finding the police with no luck. I was almost crying.

I had just 20 minutes until my train left and I had to eat. In the restaurant I picked, there was a table of several American students behind me.  I explained what happened and asked them to examine my back for me. So there I was pulling down my shirt in a restaurant in a Paris train station to get my stab wound looked at – which the students confirmed was red but wasn’t bleeding.  I warned them to be on the lookout for “migrants” and to be especially on their guard as they were all young women.

When I got to my host’s place that night in Strasbourg, I was able to finally able to get the wound disinfected and discover that my attacker had assaulted me with a fork as there were 2 parallel red holes in my back. I tried to see a doctor in Strasbourg, but all the doctors were on strike that weekend, and I didn’t want to waste my short weekend running all over the city and waiting in line. It has been over 3 weeks and my wound still hurts me, though there is no infection.

I’ve been noticing African migrants showing up in our town in Normandy all summer.  They never pay for the bus or the tramway, they sit down in packs in the places reserved for the elderly and the pregnant women.  I often see them travel in groups of 4 men.  On 2 occasions this summer, they have approached me to me to see if I speak English, and I pretend that I don’t.  I heard one migrant say that he was so f*cking angry that the French only speak French.

I’ve starting thinking about what weapons I can discreetly carry with me when I go out, and I must admit that I’ve been dealing with lots of stress and anxiety about going out alone in public since this incident.

-barenakedislam.com

 


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