Lesbos, Greece – In the middle of the burned remains that were once the Moria refugee camp lies a notebook left behind by one of the thousands of people who rushed to save their lives when fires tore through the sprawling refugee camp on Lesbos. On one page, a few basic sentences. The book had belonged to an Afghan refugee trying to learn English, as they attempted to start a new life away from war. “What is your favourite sport”, “My favourite sport is football”, “What do you do in your free time”, “I usually study book”, “What is your nationality”, “I am Afghan”.He or she is likely one of the thousands of people who are now left searching for answers on the streets of Lesbos. Since the fire almost a week ago, which left about 13,000 people without shelter, thousands have been sleeping on roadsides and petrol station forecourts. A temporary camp nearby has been constructed to house some of the former Moria residents, but there is concern over plans for a permanent reception centre for refugees and migrants on Lesbos. Why is it the narrative is always about the poor migrant, why is the poor bastard living in the host country never mentioned??