Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from March, 2018

Immigration stories of Mexico border

Do you think it’s crazy?
That’s nothing, my friend.
It seems that the most modern factories of the world's walls have come to the field.
In a random order, maybe a bit shaky, I list in detail the various proposals, all avant-garde and
especially aimed at preventing unacceptable climbing.
As the motto on the official call’s text says, a crossable wall is a dead one.
The first project involves the revolving wall, a stuff of a unique innovation, the very best for practicality, and nowadays it’s certainly not a matter of fact.

Read more

Immigration Stories of World Refugee Day

"I was good," Mary proudly says, "you know, mom?"
"Well done..." she tells her, equally taken by the debate, that has also come to the precious, shared property.
For the record, in addition to the child’s parents, those interested in the valuable legacy are uncle Donald, single and tireless exotic beauties hunters - strictly under twenty-five, aunt Jennifer and her husband aka the dummy - secretly renamed such from Mary's mother, and cousin Fred, a busy engineer away to the north, granted for missing in the last years, but it's a pleasure to be here, that’s certainly not a matter of money, his exact words.
"I did as the teacher and you too always suggest," says the smallest one in the scene.

Read more

Immigration stories of citizenship

"Dirty ducks" burning others, "you are not like us."
"Certainly," someone replied, "they are ducks..."
"Buddy, are you in or what?"
"What?"
You know, dialogues were ever like that, simple and confused as the stupidest lies usually are.
"Uncivil swallows", many strung to bring common attention to the target, the only possible, "you won’t take our place."
"Infidel flamingos", shouted a lot more, "you won’t convert us to your God."
"And what is ours?" Another voice came out of the chorus.
"Surely it doesn’t look like a flamingo," said someone alongside.

Read more

Immigration stories in the news

Attack.
There was another attack, ladies and gentlemen.
Once again terrorism hit us.
Once again, the good people's enemies have smashed our peace.
There were dead, otherwise we would not be here, now.
Some very young, further reason to be.
To join the pain.
And the right indignation.
No official claims have come, so far.
However, the dynamics seem unmistakable.
So we can say they did it.

Read more

Immigration stories of borders

Once upon a time, at the beginning of everything, a world.
The world was like a sphere.
The spheres roll, change position and orientation, swing and rebounds.
Especially if they are alive .
In that case they dance and vibrate, grow and sooner or later they die.
However, the evocative and continuous movement that makes the world something breathing and dreaming, like all living things, told stories and made it live as much.
It defines horizons and causes encounters.
More than anything, it generates travels, from one cardinal point to another.

Read more

Immigration stories from Brazil

Once upon a time there was a land.
The land where we were born.
Where we lived.
Where we loved and hated.
Where we built as many lives and written stories.
Our stories, indeed, that’s an unquestionably truth, I am not talking at all about those postcards and magniloquent tales that strictly rained from above.
There were once, them.

Read more

Immigration stories of refugees

There is a place on this earth that excels among the many.
It treats refugees as human beings.
By offering them shelter and rights, options and understanding.
But the most surprising aspects are the disarming reasons of those who welcome.
“We were also refugees,” say some.
“They are us,” emphasize others.
“We are not rich,” clarify others, “but we will not certainly become putting to death the poor.”
Hundreds of thousands survive as well, thanks to the normalcy of living together.
Since, at the time that counts, nobody knows where the other came from.

Read more

Immigration stories to think about

"Dad," the child asks. "Can we make a hole?"
"Sure," the man says, trying to doze off lying on the beach towel, tired of the strenuous working
week and hoping to use the end of the latter to regain strength. "You first."
Well, where a game is satisfying and full of surprises, it is rare that a child refuses to start the dances.
Time passes, and he digs, first with the paddle and then with bare hands. He uses especially latter, because - luckily for him, he still trusts them.

Read more

Immigration stories of migrants in the news

Once upon a time there was a news.
It came forward timidly, as it had happened earlier.
Nothing new, when the race is usually won by arrogance and utilities.
It's normal that the creatures stripped by fate, so with no wallet, are falling behind.
Nevertheless, we all get at the end of the race.
What happens after can change everything, even the order on the winners podium.
There are 74 dead bodies on the beach, the press agency said.
Nevertheless, she said nothing more.

Read more

Immigration stories of children

At night, in a crowded room, somewhere in Africa...

"Guys, I have a dream for you," says Babatunde,
only five years old, but a lot of crazy ideas, rarely liked by his brothers.
"Another one?" asks with sarcasm one of them, the closest among those who try to fall asleep. "Do you never get tired?"
"This time is a good one."
"So the last time," says another kid. "Then, fortunately, you did understand that building a submarine is science fiction."
"No, this time it's all natural."
"Let him speak," says the oldest brother, "otherwise we won’t sleep tonight."
"Thanks bro."
"Don’t thank me, and hurry up, I want to sleep."
"You know the whales?"

Read more

Immigration stories from Italy

Watch the scene, despite being old, but always trendy.
There is the sea, as always.
There's the ship, the travelers and him.
The one who dies at the end and the beginning, during too.
And even earlier, in the filming.
Perhaps he was never alive.
Yes, it must be so.
Otherwise, how can you sleep at night?
More than anything, they are there, the spectators, those watching and commenting, sharing and mocking, manipulating and selling, buying and buying back, chewing and spewing all, to start again the next day.
But sorry, we have to highlight.
Fade, light and the scapegoat of this bloody farce is once again there.

Read more

Immigration Stories about Netherlands

Plop.
A drop in the ground.

The living world is now a small thing. Just an ice island, surrounded by frozen, greedy and unscrupulous waves.
The Stegosaurus still screams with deafening
verses, but it seems to hurt more his vocal cords than the others.
In the middle of the goner, white fragment, a Tyrannosaurus rotates wearily the neck and watches him just a second. Because he deserves nothing more.
He wants to give the latest looks to his wife, as well as the puppy that will remain so forever.

Read more

Immigration stories of boat capsized

One, the boat capsizes and everyone is still on board, because the wife’s magic glue worked.
Two, the boat capsizes, but also the world did, and then we are all safe, bar none.
Three, the boat capsizes and I wake up, we did not sail at all, because we never needed to do so.
Four, the boat capsizes and nets are full. We were just trying a new way of fishing, what did you think?
Five, the boat capsizes, then I am hiding and you
start counting to ten, twenty, indeed, twenty-seven, but did not find me, please, because it means that this time I really won...

Read more

Immigration stories of women: Fatim Jawara

The stadium is full, tonight.
It always happens, in the valuable games.
But today it is a wonderful exception.
Because we usually count less than less.
However, we are many, now.
Because these particular viewers are made of the same volatile substance of the players.
Negligible for most and all that is, for those who have never had otherwise.
So, enough with the waves, of living bodies rather than insensible oceans.

Read more

Immigration stories of Mediterranean

This is my first question.
How can you not want to run out of all this?
How do you still pronounce these words?
And you have said them, don't deny it, oh if you said them.
Without going too far, once you said that, at the end of the day, they deserved hell for what they did to our Lord, because they adored money, living only among themselves, not integrating.
You said also that, after all, they have made a good deal being captured and brought to the new world, because there they have suffered, of course, but who does not suffer in life? But then they got a piece of land and the sun and the water to make it bear fruits. They have found America, by the way.
You said that even them, yes, them, would anyway be bound to disappear, because the future is only for the most evolved beings.
You said that genocide, whether you look at it from above, is just one of the thousand faces of the normal natural selection.

Read more

Immigration stories of Austria wall

Walls against migration, think if we did it too, says one of the two.
It would be a disgrace, says her friend. But you know the craziest thing?
What is?
It's all a tragic, ridiculous and dull waltz, just a dance.
Of different, yet equal, time and melodies.
Once they build walls, with unwavering firmness and deep fear.
And afterwards they shoot down them, with as much vigor and pride. Certain to be at least better than the evil ancestors.
Once they massacre entire populations with unspeakable cruelty.
And afterwards they condemn even those who dare to be not ashamed of this common stain on history.

Read more

Immigration stories of refugees children

In the castle there is no room for everyone, but the prince has worked, has worked hard and eventually found a place for them.
Who dared to cross the moat filled by dark slime, challenging the fairs within.
Those are the ones who have climbed the walls, and that despite thousands loving or just traveling companions were killed along the way to heaven that really heats up, they have come across.
Where they say there is no better life, easier and longer.
But life there must necessarily be, because the other side is now running out.
Meanwhile they stand, breathing becomes normal and dreams increase in volume.
There had dreams before to arrive, let alone now.
However, this is not good, because that is how the gift of grace works: okay, I have taken out the plug from your heart, but do not you dare to bleed on the fine carpet, gosh.

Read more

Immigration stories of borders

My name is Amir and I am tired of dying. When does life begin? Can you tell me more? Because, here, we do not know anything. We are first lower pages of equally negligible books, strictly relegated to forgotten shelves.
There, where the unlabeled stories of the world live. Those that have no moral, otherwise I dare you to inform the protagonists that all that suffering has a kind of meaning.
They have only told me go ahead, you start, it is your turn.
So I went on stage, like everyone else.
And you know what? If I had known that all this would have happened, I would have remade the same steps.
I know that for many of you it is difficult to understand. If not, the gap between us would be the least of the problems.

Read more

Immigration stories from Turkey

Imagine a table.
A round table, like the one of the knights with a honest and fearless king.
Let it be told.
Let it be told and remembered that they are brave and righteous, until proven otherwise.
Now, let’s release some fantasy. Namely, let the gallop be heard. To remember that on this page, there will be always room for those who did not come in the photo on the desk at the entrance, the one that everyone looks.
Like steeds who have struggled, suffered and often destroyed back and hooves for others' glory, as the horses of Zorro and D'Artagnan, Robin Hood and Lone Ranger. No one will remember those lives, when all the dust will end to fall.
So, you may cover the round table of knights and intrepid king with a nice green cloth.

Read more

Immigration stories of Calais

I remember.
I try to remember how it all started.
Them. The very first I saw was them.
Mine.
I loved them. They have loved me too, maybe in their own way.
I want to believe that. I have to.
Then something broke. First an explosion, then a scream and after a suffering.
Therefore the plural killed the exception and the others came: explosions, screams and sufferings.
That was the time I began to hate them. The very first that I saw.
Mine.

Read more

Immigration stories: the wall

Make walls, make walls around, and forget about it. This was the suggested remedy. Simple and quick solution, with elementary words that also a child could easily understand, let alone a crazy person.
So, the man, who had seen first in the hands, his own hands, the hated enemy, did raise a wall on the wrists. Two stone bracelets that enveloped the way between the arms and the fingers, a boundary between the upper limbs and the ability to grasp but also touch, to push or, at best, caress, often to indicate, sometimes to greet.
The sleep improved, but it did not last long, because in most cases the delirium is like an insatiable drug. As soon as you deceive yourself you can handle it, here it comes under another, much more powerful mask.
The feet, the feet had become the invader, and then the man, as it seemed to have worked with the wrists, and consequently with his hands, did the same with his ankles, making them crushed by impassable walls.

Read more

Immigration stories: Denmark refugees

Hell is only one form of the latter you will give us, despite we already know how it is done.
For this reason I'm here, now.
Confiscate, confiscate as well, but you will not find any money because my parents used it to buy time for me. All you can roll out ahead like a red carpet, even if blood colored.
You won’t discovery any jewel of any value, in my mother’s case, because she exchanged it for an always open window in my heart, where I will never lose sight of the lovable memories.
You won’t detect anything, alas, you could define valuable.
If not, you really believe that I would be here today?

Read more

Immigration stories: Migrants deaths at sea

Because I know.
I know everything.
I already know what you might think.
Maybe you will blame the unwary parents who drag their innocent offspring in a one-way trip towards the bottom of the sea.
I know.
You could also say that all governments are responsible for this.
Ours, yours.
The middle ones.
Leaders who allowed this annoying invasion only able to create unjust guilt to people of good will, until proven otherwise.
I also know that you would recall your children.
Your people.
Your country.

Read more

Immigration stories from Lampedusa

Once upon a time there was a family.
A foreign family, I challenge anyone to deny it.
Dad was an immigrant, mom was a refugee, grandma was a clandestine and the child was a stranger.
Unwanted and undesirable persons from every point of view.
Above all, under every sky.
Because there are people who are luckless since the beginning.
And the worst life is for those who before this unhappy fate’s judgment do not surrender.
The foreign family was a shining example.
In fact, they decided to autonomously write their turning page: they prepared luggage and started their journey.
In the sea, of course.

Read more

Immigration stories: migrants boat sinks

The story of all stories always told the same... story.
Forgive the repetition, but I have not written the latter.
I'm just the one who strives to change it.
In the story of always the same stories, boats collapsed.
Often, not ever.
Because the unexpected happens even in the reign of noble front pages.
It happens in life.
Let alone the fiction.
A boat capsized and so far nothing new.
However, the ride of death by drowning stopped just at the climax.
Pause, still picture on the obvious impending tragedy, a moment before starting again with the usual party game.

Read more

Immigration stories of racism in Italy 2018

At the same time, limiting ourselves to the votes for the Chamber of Deputies, the most assiduous dealers of lies and delusions about foreigners - also known as Center-Right, have earned 12,147.611 votes, which corresponds to 20% of the total population. Among them, the real engine of this legalized oxymoron called civil intolerance - but you may also say Northern League, has obtained 5,691,921 votes, a paltry 9% of the population...
So, we can say that 80% of the total population, about 50 million people, are not identified in the Center-Right, the coalition with the highest number of deputies.

Read more

Immigration stories: Migrants death in Mediterranean

Only two kind of people lived in the distorted world.
Travelers and guests.
Without any other category.
Classes.
And, if you really want, you may say races too.
In the wrong world using such words would be just fine.
Wrong, I mean.
The guests were all living on an island.
Then in our world should be a limited portion of land completely surrounded by water.
But since in the wrong world it was the only mainland, was called the land and nothing more.
‘Nothing more’ is not just in the sense of a trivial ‘nothing else’, but: ‘what else you want?’
More than a land?

Read more

Immigration stories: the child in the trolley

Once upon a time there was a trolley.
A magic trolley.
Making things disappear.
And so the magic works trust is necessary.
Because when all returns.
The world must necessarily be more beautiful than before.
In the magic trolley there was a hidden child.
So far, dismay in eyes and heart.
At least in the trace of remained humanity.
But I am here to tell you that the hidden child in the trolley there was unseen another child.
A girl, to be precise.
Smaller, undoubtedly.

Read more

Immigration stories from Italy

They said.
Oh, they said a lot.
They said that once there they would have taken away a lot from me.
The name, to say some.
Replaced by a flood of epithets, most often insultingly.
In the intent, if not in the exact sense.
However, like magic, stories are always born in the intentions.

They said, really.
They said so much.

Read more

Immigration stories of people and future

On a ship. On the sea. Somewhere.
"Uncle Amadou?"
"Yes ..."
"Uncle?"
"Yes."
"Are you listening?"
"Yes I am."
"But you're not looking at me ..."
The man turns round to satisfy his nephew. "Don't worry," he says, raising his left eyebrow, "my ears work well even without the help of my eyes ..." And he turns to study the waves.
The boy, not much more than six years old, looks at him doubtfully; however, he trusts him and starts again: "Uncle ... do you know Italian well?"
"Of course, I've already been there twice."
"Do you really know all the words?"
"Naturally, Ousmane."

Read more

Immigration stories of refugees on the sea

A man emerges from the sea.
A few steps and he is on the land.
Yes, a few steps.
Because this is the true distance.
Another man is coming on the shore.
From the inside.
In an instant they are close.
Sure, instant.
Because this is the time that really matters.
"Who are you?" the latter asks.
"I am a refugee."
"Please to meet you", the other replies.
"Please to meet you? Is this a joke?"
"No, it is not. Why do you ask me that?"
"Because I never thought that..."

Read more

Immigration stories of refugees in Czech Republic

Let’s suppose this is what it is.
Let's assume that the story of migrants marked in the Czech Republic as it was for Jews in the death camps.
That's right, let’s say that the this is what refugees are living today.
A Holocaust.
Then let’s blow the clock with every particle of breath we retain in the chest for the last minute goal and for happy parties.
All together now.
Then, let’s imagine what people will say and do, one day.
As it was for the Jews.
Photos and movies will be suitably old.

Read more